Category Archives: Outside Italy

Things that happen when we travel outside of this Bel Paese

When “hot” doesn’t mean “hot”

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I’m not talking about the weather. No. That is as cold as the tip of an Eskimo’s nose. Winter is arriving, for sure.

No, I’m talking (again) about differences between Italians and the English.

If you live here, can you remember the last time you had a really “hot” meal cooked by an Italian? I don’t mean “spicy” hot but hot hot. More like boiling hot. So hot that you had to cool it down by blowing on each forkful.

No, I didn’t think so. Meals, here, are regularly served on cold plates – the food itself hardly piping hot. The only exception to this is, sometimes, meat, served on a sizzling hot plate or, at one restaurant where they used to serve thinly sliced Branzino (Sea Bass) on such a hot plate that they had to warn you about it.

At the weekend, in partial preparation for a move, I was cooking stuff from the freezer. I found a Mincemeat and Apple Plait that I had made to use up the last of the mincemeat I had and some of the apples that we always buy at Christmas (and then leave to rot in the fruit bowl). I thought F might like it. And I made custard to go with it. Not a lot because (I thought) F doesn’t like custard.

I cooked the Plait and timed it just right so that it was ready to come out as we finished the main course.

In fact, F did want custard – and as much as I could give him – which was a bit of a bastard as it meant that I had much less and, if I had known, I would have made a full pint rather than half a pint :-(

But, he wouldn’t eat it.

He put it outside, on the windowsill, to cool down. I was quite shocked. I asked him why. He told me that he can’t eat hot deserts and had I not noticed that Italians don’t do hot deserts which, now that he had mentioned it, was true!

“But why can’t you eat it when it’s hot?”, I asked. Apparently, it’s bad to put hot things in your stomach. Who knew that, all my life I have been doing something so bad for me? And why wasn’t I ill more often?

And then, today, as I was eating my lunch in the canteen, I bemoaned (to myself, obviously) that everything is served fairly tepid on cold plates and, so, you don’t actually eat “hot” food. I was eating cauliflower which was almost cold. Partly because it was only tepid when served and then because the plates are actually cold. And that’s true (with the exceptions I’ve mentioned above) in restaurants too!

Perhaps it’s a climate thing? It’s certainly a cultural thing. And, again, we come back to the weird beliefs Italians seem to have about your health and what is good or bad for you.

In the UK, serving anything it was expected to be on hot, or at least warm, plates. And if it were piping hot, then that was better. But not here. Or, having just spoken to my colleagues, not for many people and, certainly, not for F.

Having spoken to my colleagues, I find that there are a few (but only about 3 or 4) sweets that are served hot. Unlike in the UK where, apart from during the summer, nearly all sweets are served hot.

And on warm plates so that they keep warm.

Sometimes, I miss certain things. This is one of them.

Italians are a strange bunch!

Things are OK now; A trip that I didn’t like; And relax.

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Well, just to keep you updated, the problem that was, is “was” and is no more. Or, at least, not for a bit and, soon, possibly not forever again.

So, that’s good, isn’t it? Yes, it is.

Today has been a holiday but some work came in unexpectedly, yesterday, and today was doing that. In between, under the bloody rain, I did lots of things including picking up jeans that were having a new zip, taking stuff to the dry cleaners, food shopping and going to get F’s main present. I didn’t feel I could leave that until the last minute. Just far too risky.

So, now, apart from food shopping for Christmas and he last minute things and wrapping presents, I am done.

And relax!

But I just wanted to talk about Israel. Before I went, last weekend, for work, many people told me how lovely Israel is and how great Tel Aviv is, etc., etc.

Now I’ve been before. I wasn’t all that impressed last time. This time even less so. I just don’t get it. I obviously don’t see what everyone who’s been there sees.

Let me describe to you my feelings on Israel and, in particular, Tel Aviv.

it is a dirty, messy hole. I wouldn’t go and live there for all the money in the world.

And then there’s the people. Arrogant doesn’t even come close to describing them. A bit like the Italians (but much worse), everything is done much better in Israel, apparently. Except it isn’t. And they always want something for nothing. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t deal with them. They are, as we say in the UK, a nasty piece of work.

And let me just add something that is a bit controversial.

Let me first explain that what Hitler and Mussolini did in the war (and their people) to the Jews was horrific and inexcusable. It should never be forgotten and we should always be watchful that something like this doesn’t ever happen again.

If I were Jewish, and lived in Germany or Italy, it would have been possible that my grandparents would have been killed. So it’s not that far away from me, if you see what I mean.

However, whilst never forgetting about it, I do feel it’s time to put it behind one and move forward. I don’t want to hear about it every day.

You see, I wasn’t hungry. The first day we had a very large lunch and then a very large dinner, provided by our hosts. By day two, I really couldn’t eat much.

I had a little bit of the appetiser, declined the soup and the first course. The jerk just opposite, to the right said, “Oh you can’t be Jewish”. Stupidly, I ask why not. He replied that, if I had been Jewish I would have eaten because, due to the Holocaust, all Jews feel they have to eat everything!

Well, for one, I don’t believe that and for two, excuse me but FUCK RIGHT OFF! That’s not an excuse for you to be a fat bastard and, even if I were Jewish, I would also have some pride about my fucking appearance which, quite frankly, you obviously don’t. And stop relating everything to the Holocaust! I guess, of course, that they can’t leave it alone because, I imagine, their parents constantly reminded them of it – but leave it alone now. As I said, we should never forget, none of us, but it should not be mentioned every fucking five seconds!

And, can I say that the hotel was the very worst hotel I’ve ever stayed in. And I really do mean EVER – in all my time staying in hotels (which is a lot of time and a lot of hotels). The Diaghilev, LIVE ART Boutique Hotel will NEVER see me there again. I was a little worried when I saw all the reviews so positive – but quite recent reviews. I should have stayed with my gut feeling. Cold room, no hot water, no decent service, no breakfast the first morning. Dreadful, dreadful, dreadful. My review is on TripAdvisor but the reviews are, generally, full of people posting their first ever review who think it is the best hotel ever. So mine will be lost down the list, which is shame for the real travellers who will be so disappointed when they stay there. Next time, I shall be more careful with TripAdvisor (and I had thought I already was!)

There were two good things about the trip. The first was Turkish Airlines – on time, food good, service good (we flew Milan to Istanbul and then to Tel Aviv). The second was the meal we went for (just me and my colleagues) to < href="http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Restaurant_Review-g293984-d4793435-Reviews-Tapas_1_Tel_Aviv-Tel_Aviv_Tel_Aviv_District.html" target="blank">Tapas 1 where the service was great and the food superb!

Anyway, enough of all that.

In the meantime, I am, almost, ready for Christmas and so I say … BRING IT ON!

What do the Tardis and an Antarctic Hut have in common?

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Sorry I haven’t been posting but there have been “issues”. It’s still not quite finished yet.

In the meantime, for you delectation, here are a couple of things I’ve been meaning to post.

The first is Google Maps’ inside view of Dr. Who’s Tardis.

The second is Captain Scott’s hut in the Antarctic.

In the first case, you are inside and can “walk around”. Be aware that if you go outside it will “vanish”, of course.

In the second case you can go inside the hut and walk around a bit. You can’t, however, go far from the hut.

Still, I liked them and have been meaning to put them up for ages.

Art – not so black and white

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I’ve read a couple of articles recently that made me feel a little uncomfortable but, perhaps, not “normal uncomfortable”.

There have been many times when, for example, societies have burned books. Each time this is done, there’s an outcry. And the outcry is right, after all. I mean, literature is literature and it’s an art. There was also the recent “haul” of Nazi-looted art from some reclusive guy. Paintings that hadn’t been seen (or, in some cases, were unknown) were “recovered” and may, in time, go back to their rightful owners.

But, that latest report is about who owns the art and not about destroying it.

Some years ago, however, the West was shocked to learn that the Taliban were destroying ancient sites – ancient works of art. So, one would think, the West is more enlightened. In the West we would not destroy art just because we didn’t agree with it any more.

It would seem true if you read the article about the fake Madonna and Child that turned out not to be fake.

What an amazing piece of art! Of course it shouldn’t be destroyed.

Should it? But there is a problem with this piece. It is in ivory. That is to say, the tusks from elephants. These days, ivory is (rightly) an “unacceptable material”. So much so that, recently, a lot of it was destroyed. So, what to do with this piece? In theory, it should be destroyed, surely? But it is a valuable piece of historic art and, apparently, beautiful. In the comments section of the first article, there are some suggestions that it should be destroyed. But is that not the same as the burning of books or the destroying of ancient places – just because society, at that moment, think they are wrong in some way? At the time this Madonna was carved, society did not see that it was wrong to use ivory.

It’s not an easy question to answer. And I’m not giving an answer here since there is no correct answer to this paradox.

And then I remembered reading this piece on Saturday where there was some disgust and cries of racism and calls for the offending piece to be covered up. Again, this is art. It may not be to our “tastes” now but does that mean it should be done away with? If it’s in the setting of a primary school, does that make it worse? Or are we projecting our adult consciouses onto children who will see (probably) nothing in the picture?

I collected the Robertson’s Golliwogs when I was a kid. And I’m sorry but, for me, they weren’t a depiction of “black people” but, rather, dolls (or badges or figurines). Cabbage Patch Dolls weren’t real either. Nor were Barbie or Ken even if Barbie and Ken had some resemblance to real people. And whereas I agree that we should not, in general, have golliwogs available now, to cover up a piece of art is a different thing.

At the end of this, do we have the right to determine what art should be seen? Do we have the right to destroy art from a previous society just because it offends our existing morals? Or, if we have that right, does it make us mere Western-Taliban or Nazi-like? Who do we think we are that we can permit this to happen?

It disturbs me that we think we can have the right while, at the same time, condemning other societies for doing the “same thing”. It’s not so simple – not so black and white.

Who’s reading this?

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The headlines read:

Migrants contribute £25bn to UK economy, study finds

and

How migrants from outside Europe leave a £100billion hole in the public purse: Amount taken in benefits and services is 14% higher than money put back

They come from different newspapers, of course.

In the detail, compare “Other immigrants [from outside the EU] paid about 2% more than they received.” with “Immigrants from outside Europe have taken £100billion more in benefits and services than they paid back in taxes, a major study revealed yesterday.” Why the difference?

The first statement looks at the 10 years from 2001 to 2011; the second over a 16-year period.

And, “Recent immigrants were 45% less likely to receive state benefits or tax credits than people native to the UK and 3% less likely to live in social housing” but “According to the data, migrants are 20 per cent more likely to be claiming work tax credit than Britons. One in seven people claiming the benefit is a non-UK national.”

Hidden towards the end of the article in the second newspaper is “Professor Dustmann and his colleagues said: ‘Immigrants arriving since the early 2000s have made substantial net contributions to public finances, a reality that contrasts starkly with the view often maintained in public debate.'”

Of course, it’s all spun according to the main viewpoint of the newspaper and their readers. Let’s be honest, most people just read the headline and maybe the first two paragraphs – which will confirm what they already believe.

Personally, I’d call it “manipulating the facts”. From both of them.

Why I was in the UK – NOT ignoring friends, exactly.

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It isn’t that I meant to snub all my friends but this is inevitable when you go “back home”.

I mean, I was going back for Best Mate’s 40th birthday. She hasn’t been so well over the last few years and, although I intended to stay for the weekend, I didn’t know how she would be and whether I would a) be with her the whole time or b) if she was up for “nights out with friends”.

So, I couldn’t take the risk and chose not to tell anyone I was going back. If I had, I would have had people trying to make arrangements to see me – which, in other circumstances I would have loved, but, in this case, would have just been hassle, particularly, possibly, for her.

In the end, I spent the whole weekend with her (also her kids and her Mum and Dad). We met one mutual friend in passing in Hay-on-Wye and sat and had a drink with her and chatted for a bit, which was lovely but, it was Best Mate’s birthday weekend so, for me, anything she wanted was what we did.

And it was really lovely. She seems much better now and it was so good to spend some quality time with her.

As we discussed (and have discussed many, many times before), there would appear, on the surface, to be no good reason why we are best friends. Nobody ever really understood why we were and since we don’t really understand either, it’s difficult to explain. And yet, within about half a day of our first meeting all those years ago, we had a “connection” and, even if we don’t speak or see each other so often, the moment we are together again it’s like we’ve never been apart from each other.

It’s all so easy and we can just relax in each others company.

And I like that. A lot.

I’m hoping she is on the first steps to a full recovery and that, maybe, I can see a bit more of her in the future.

In any event, to me she has always been and will remain a star.

Some English words. Well, not really but, as they say, you learn something every day.

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You see, being in a foreign country, I’m actually learning more English than I would if I were still in the UK.

Take one of those words.

Lacksidaisical. Great word, isn’t it. Meaning lazy/not paying attention.

Except it’s not. I’ve used this word so many times over the years. Pronouncing it lack – see – daisy – ical. No one has ever said, “no, you’ve got it wrong.” Of course, I’ve never actually written it down as I’ve never had to use it when writing but, if I had, I would have spelt it as I did above.

Today (courtesy of Lola) I find that after 40-odd years of using it, I would have spelt it wrong if I had written it and, worse, I’ve been pronouncing it wrong all this time! It is, of course, lackadaisical. There is no “see” in it at all! In fact, neither in the spelling nor the pronunciation is there an “s” after the “lack”!

And then there is the word “cutch”. We used it in my family a lot. “Give me a cutch,” we’d say, meaning give me a cuddle or a hug. Or, “cutch up to me” – cuddle up to me.

Of course, we lived on the Welsh border and so, I suppose, it was inevitable that we would “borrow” some Welsh words. And, previously unbeknown to me, this is a Welsh word and, in fact, the word is cwtch (the “w” sounding like an English “u”).

So, all this time, I knew some Welsh words (I think there were others that we used but don’t remember them now).

Do you have any words like this?

Neither here nor there?

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I wrote a post just over a month back about the feeling of not belonging in Italy..

Last Thursday, I went back to the UK.

Well, I say the UK. It actually felt like I had stepped into some sort of theme park – and not in a good way. I would call it the “Daily Mail Land”.

Of course, there’s nothing I could put my finger on, exactly. I mean, the countryside was as wonderful as ever. The beer was great. Some of the food was wonderful and I miss that. It was all much “tidier” than Italy, which was nice. But I think it was the people. As if all joy had been squeezed out and it left a miserableness that couldn’t be hidden by the falseness of the shop assistants over-friendliness, the bar staff trying to make you feel that you were the most important customer in the world, etc.

It was like everyone had just come off a Customer Care course but it just felt like “let’s pretend”. None of it felt “real”.

I don’t belong there either. So, if I don’t belong there and I don’t belong there, where do I belong?

And I missed Italy. Not just for F and the dogs. I missed the food, the life, the enjoying of life. And, more than ever, coming back felt like coming home.

I bought lost of things. Too much to fit in my suitcase and so Best Mate will be posting it to me.

And the time I spent with Best Mate – just hanging out – was fantastic.

But,in spite of that, it get’s harder to go back each time I do it. Next time, it’s for a wedding party and I go with F. So let’s see if that is any better.

ACT/OR – Will it become reality or not?

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Having “successfully” backed 2 films and one book on Kickstarter, I thought I would like to try again with another one.

But, which one? For me, it would have to be another film or a book but there are so many and to try and to read all the blurb and watch all the videos on each one, I’d need about 2 weeks, by which time, there would be a load more available.

But, then, in the Guardian I saw a link to some program that was created that works out the likely success/failure for each project.

The website is called Sidekick.

This, supposedly, lists all the currently live projects on Kickstarter and gives the probability of it being a success along with other information such as how much time is left, how much is required, how much is pledged, etc.

And, by clicking on the headings at the top of the list, you can order the list in almost any way you want. And you can select a particular category.

Amongst the things that I found amazing/strange/weird was the fact that there an awful lot of projects for the category “Board and card games”. I mean to say, in this digitally-frenzied age, who’d have thought that people would still be making up card games, let alone board games?

Anyway, I found something to pledge for and it’s a short film that goes by the name of ACT/OR.

According to Sidekick it has a 97% chance of reaching its target – but with only 11% of the required target in and only a couple of weeks or so to go, I find that a little difficult to believe. So, let’s see. Visit the site and see if you like the idea of it? Maybe you’ll even pledge something?

Unbelievable!

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I’ve always found it somewhat amazing that, when someone finds out their partner has been having an affair, that person often attacks the person who has been with their partner and not their partner.

I don’t understand.

You can’t blame the “other person”. If your partner has strayed then the problem is surely with either your partner or your relationship or you or all of the above. Therefore, to attack the “other” seems quite stupid and unproductive.

I’m reminded of this by this morning’s online Daily HateMail. It suggests that the Guardian were wrong to print details about the NSA story and even more wrong to allow the “sensitive personal details” of UK agents to be carried across borders. In fact, it is calling for the Guardian to be prosecuted.

And, to me, this is a little like “my partner’s having an affair so I’ll attack the other person”.

If any prosecutions were to be made let’s go to the source of the problem.

The Guardian got the data from Snowden. Snowden was a contractor working for a company that was employed by the NSA. In fact, many, many contractors work with the NSA. If one of the contractors took some information, surely the responsibility for that lies with the NSA. The NSA have the responsibility to make sure that everything they do and everything they hold is “secret” – i.e. not available to the public. That’s their job, isn’t it?

So, whether it’s right for them to obtain this data in the first place is not the point. If their job is keeping secrets safe, and some of those secrets got out, it makes them:

a) crap at the job they’re doing and
b) responsible for the leak.

So, surely, they’re the ones that should be sued?

But, of course, the British Government can hardly sue the secret agency that the British secret agencies are helping. I mean that would be stupid, wouldn’t it?

However, bringing it back to my analogy, surely one should be looking at the “relationship” and trying to fix the problem with that!