Tag Archives: Experiences

The holiday – beaches, food, drink and a day-trip to Portovenere

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Well, if you’ve been following, most of my holiday posts have been about the books I was reading (am still reading).

But that wasn’t really the whole story. I mean, we did things other than me sitting on the beach and reading.

I picked Best Mate (BM) up from the airport on the Thursday evening. We spent the night in Milan and then drove down to Carrara the next day. F had already gone down with the dogs.

We spent the weekend together and then F came back to Milan on Sunday afternoon as he was working.

Time with BM was great. She did spend a lot of time sleeping, especially on the beach, but that was OK and expected.

One night we went to Sarzzana (unfortunately the antique fair that fills the narrow streets wasn’t up and running until the following week) and had a lovely time (apart from the worst pizza in the world – see previous post).

Another night was Carrara itself. But, apart from going to the beach and eating, that was about it. It was relaxing and lovely. The following Friday, we drove back to Milan, leaving the dogs in Carrara. We made a stop to see F who was working in Fidenza Village (one of those outlet villages where they have a shop) as he was on his way down to Carrara to stay with the dogs. The next morning, early, I took BM to the airport and then drove straight from there back to Carrara.

Most of the time we spent on the beach (during the day) apart from a couple of days when the weather was bad and one particular day (last Saturday) when one of F’s friends, A2, drove us to Portovenere.

Apart from the time with BM, this was truly the highlight of the holiday. Portovenere is a small town on the Ligurian coast. It is typically Italian, the harbour lined by houses painted in the reds, yellows and oranges one would expect in Italy. We left early (around 8 a.m.) so that we would get there early enough to find parking.

We (well, A2) drove to La Spezia, a large harbour town that receives cruise ships (there were 2 docked) and from there we followed the twisting road around the coast to the town of Portovenere.

We parked the car and then walked onto the harbour to find somewhere to have breakfast.

After that we strolled up towards the church, sited seemingly precariously on top of the headland overlooking the straits between that and the island opposite the harbour. But, instead of going to the church, we cut off just before and went through an archway onto some rocks in a small cove. Now, here’s the thing about Portovenere. It does have a couple of very small beaches located within the harbour but, like much of Liguria, so I’m led to believe, most of the bathing takes place off rocks. The advantage this has is that the sea is not “polluted” by drawing up sand into the water.

We found a place to lay our towels on the flatter rocks and went swimming. The water was warm and so, so clear. It almost didn’t feel like the sea at all. But, although I can swim, I’m not what you would call a confident swimmer. Plus, I have a real problem with getting water in my eyes, even normal tap water. If water gets in my eyes, I just cannot open them again until I can dry my lids. As a result of this, I don’t like going out of my depth. And this was not gradually sloping sand but rocks so, one minute OK, the next not. I didn’t stay long, to be honest – it was just a little bit scary for me. And, yet, beautiful to swim in.

We lay on the rocks, the sun breaching the walls behind us. The cove became packed and, about 11 or so when we decided to move, people couldn’t wait to take over our place on the rocks.

We went up to next to the church where we could look out from the top of what looked like an old fort (or, maybe the roof of the church?) Then we walked back through the town. F wanted to buy some pesto since he loves it. He chose a shop with the idea that we would come back later. It was really quaint. Narrow streets, as you would expect with a small harbour town built on the hillside. We reached the square from where we had started in the morning and then walked along the harbour to pick somewhere for lunch. Lunch was simple but nice. By the time we had finished lunch the place was really packed. That afternoon they were closing off the channel (by the church) to water traffic and allowing people to swim across the channel. Every space on the rocks was taken, people (mainly young adults) waiting for the signal that the channel was open.

But F and A2 weren’t so keen on staying. To be honest, I’d have like to see it start but, at the end of the day, I had enjoyed the day so much, I wasn’t going to let a little thing make it bad.

So, we walked back into the town and got the pesto and then walked to the car and came home. All day the sun shone and I have to say it was one of the nicest days I’ve had for a long time.

F realised that I had enjoyed it. “Next year, we’ll go for days out like this,” he said. “Maybe a couple of times a week.”

I told him that I’d like that even if it was only a couple of times during the holiday.

I’ll try and put some pictures up tomorrow of Portovenere.

3 restaurants and a funeral (or really, really bad pizzeria)

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Well, over the three weeks of holiday, there were, notably, 4 new restaurants. 3 excellent and 1 which served the most dire pizza that I’ve ever tasted – and that includes all those not in Italy!

But, first, lets cheer ourselves up with the good ones.

The first was in Carrara, called Il ReBacco just off the central square. A bit expensive but the food was very good. But, when it came to the sweet I chose, well, it was to die for. It was a chocolate mouse but so divine. Best Mate, who was with me, really liked it. If I had known how much, I would have given her mine and had her cheesecake. After all, she doesn’t come that often and I can always go back there!

And I would go back – if only for the chocolate mouse!

We had an antipasto, main course, wine and water and, of course, dessert – it came out around €50 per head. We ate outside as the weather was so good so I don’t actually know what it was like to eat inside but, from the entrance, it looked nice.

The second was in a place called Partaccia which is the next “village” to F’s “village”, so really close and easy to get to. We were taken there by T, the local vet who also has a place on the beach near us. Since her son is a chef who has moved to London, the talk between us, on the beach is often about food and restaurants. And so, she suggested going to a couple of places. Agilulfo Osteria was the first place she took us to. This is in the middle of a holiday area but this restaurant, just off the main road is anything but some kind of seaside food joint. It wouldn’t be amiss in the middle of some of the trendiest areas in Milan. With prices to match, of course.

The food and the presentation were divine. I should have had the Agnello di Zeri but I didn’t because I thought we were going to eat it later in the week. Actually, I can’t remember what I had, sorry. However, the place was pretty, the tables arranged into some sort of constructed court.

My only criticism would be the portion size. It was OK as I wasn’t hungry (for the whole time of my holiday) but, if I had been hungry, it might have left me needing more. But the quality made up for the quantity, for sure.

Thirdly, again with T, we went to Castagnetola and a real trattoria – Trattoria Da Emma. This couldn’t be further from Agilulfo Osteria if it tried. This is “home” cooking from Emma herself a lady who looks like someone’s grandma. This is NOT expensive but the food is wonderful. We had gnocchi fritti to start with – lightly fried squares of pastry which expand (like Yorkshire Puddings) so, when you cut into them, they create a kind of envelope. We filled this with some delicious prosciutto and eat it with your hands. I had the pasta with beans and everyone else had the ravioli (tordelli, here) which I also tried and it was all delicious. F had the Fritto Misto – deep fried fish (sardines, prawns, squid, etc.) whilst I had a pork chop. We also had chips which were, quite obviously, hand made – like everything else.

Such a lovely place and such nice food. We had the table just before the entrance, in a small corner, under grape vines. It made it all very special. Worth the trip. Apparently, apart from the gnocchi fritti and the tordelli, the other dish “not to be missed” are the deep fried sardines. If they have them, you can have a plate of those instead of what F had.

Unfortunately, the title of “worst pizza, probably in the world” goes to a restaurant/pizzeria that I don’t know the name of. I will try and hunt out the receipt to get the name of it. I didn’t pick up a card as it was really so dreadful. The base was soggy and they used so much oil that there was hardly any taste except that. This was a place in Sarzzana. It’s in the Piazza Matteoletti, right at the top end, where it narrows, on the right hand side. Dreadful, dreadful, dreadful. The waitress was lovely and we thought (Best Mate and I) that it would be good as there was a queue of people waiting – it was so full – but either we were unlucky with our choice or these people were just visitors who knew nothing!

And it is proof that you really can get crappy pizza in Italy. Avoid this place like the plague!

Another one bites the dust.

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Vary sadly, The Bookstore.co.uk, from where I have been buying my books (not wanting to grace Amazon with my custom) has ceased trading.

So, I went on the hunt for another bookshop to buy from. It’s not easy. At first I tried Hay on Wye but the only bookshop that had what I needed priced everything in US dollars and I couldn’t find a way to change it to either Euro or Pounds.

Eventually, I found one in Liverpool called News From Nowhere.

They had all the books I wanted (from my “saved list” at Bookstore.co.uk) and so I entered them and, to try it out, bought 3 books. In theory, they will be with me when I come back with Best Mate from our holiday.

Still, Bookstore were truly great and I shall miss them. I’m sorry that I couldn’t buy more (if that would have helped to keep them alive). Further, it’s a shame that another independent bookseller has hit the dust.

Mice, men and plans.

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Mice, men and plans.

“Maybe we can leave early?”

I have work, so it can’t be really early. But, as in less than two weeks, I shall be staying at work a little later (rather than go home before picking up Best Mate), I could leave half an hour earlier.

So, in order to be at home as quickly as possible today (Friday), last night, I went to buy cigarettes rather than, as I usually do, on Friday. And I bought that long-life milk to take down with me. That would mean that the only thing I would have to do on Friday night, on my way home, was fill up with petrol.

But, the best laid plans ….. etc., etc.

Of course, it was first mentioned, a few days ago.

“They can’t deliver the new furniture until Saturday.”

This is for the shop. Since he’s responsible for the layout, it’s important that he’s there. It was due to come this week, during the week but for some reason, can’t be done until Saturday. I ask if he has to stay and he says “no” but I’m not convinced. His boss has also told him he doesn’t have to be there. But I know he’ll feel responsible.

So last night, I met him and some of his colleagues for a drink. He tells me two things. 1. His brother (and girlfriend) will be staying at the house from next week (his girlfriend’s house got flooded and is being “worked on”) and, 2. he has to stay in Milan for Saturday.

Whereas I’m not really surprised, I’m disappointed (and very disappointed for him) on two fronts. First that his brother will “mess up” the tidy, super-clean house that he spent about a week doing, ready for our holiday and secondly that he can’t come down this weekend.

He’s quite angry and frustrated. With his brother and with the furniture thing.

I shall still go down tonight but it’s not really so important to leave early. My heart’s not in it. Without him it’s really not the same. But I’m going down because it will be so hot over the weekend and going down is so much better for the dogs, poor things. But, I think this year, we’ve actually travelled together only once. And, even if he annoys the hell out of me (switching off the air conditioning from time to time and not wanting me to smoke when I want and lots of “be careful”s or sharp intake of breaths because he thinks I’m not driving slow enough, etc.) I much prefer that he’s with me. In fact, I much prefer that he’s with me most of the time and this year he hasn’t been.

And, then, maybe, the weekend after, his brother will still be there so probably we won’t go down, which is a shame, mostly for him.

But let’s see. He wants to buy out his brother from the house. If his brother won’t give up his half, he says he will push to sell the house and then buy one of his own.

He’s angry and frustrated, I’m just disappointed. My plans were for nothing.

Express Train

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There are just 2 weekends to go and then it’s almost our holiday. I say “our” meaning mine, since F won’t be with me the first week.

Instead, Best Mate will be.

I am just so ready for this holiday. The problem is that I know that the holiday will also pass like an express train so, although I can’t wait for it to come, I also don’t want it to come, if you see what I mean. For as soon as it starts, it will seem to end.

There is also the weather. As usual, it is incredibly hot. It is July and this is normal. The problem is that last year, the end of July also triggered a significant change in the weather, for the worse. I’m hoping this year is not the case.

People are, as usual, complaining that it’s too hot – although the temperatures are only in the mid-thirties °C (although the temperature felt is closer to the forties.) The rain which my forecast keeps promising is due in the next 10 days (for about the last three weeks) has failed to materialise – but today does seem as if it might rain.

Over the next couple of weekends, we’re going to try out a few restaurants nearby, so that I have places to take Best Mate who will be with me for just over a week. Obviously, we have some – Bati Bati (lardo and asparagus pizza), Venezia (fish), La Brace (meat) – but we need more. I have also thought that, maybe, one night we do a barbecue in the garden. We’ll see how it goes. I’m very easy-going about it all tbh.

So, only 17 days to go until I pick BM up from the airport and start my hols! Yeah!!

Books, beach and stuff

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Well, my last book, finished just this evening (Saturday) was Elizabeth of York by Alison Weir. It’s taken me about 5 Days, so more than Dickens’ Bleak House!

It’s not that it wasn’t Interesting, it was just a bit overfull with facts rather than story. Hilary Mantel, you have a lot to answer for! ;-). Weir made a good case for her being quite powerful, behind the scenes and for her and Henry VII having a loving marriage but, still too Many facts (how much money she gave and to whom, bills paid and for what – essential, I know, for trying to determine her actual life but not easy to read.)

So now on to Ali Smith’s How To Be Both, winner of loads of prizes – which is why I have it – notably, the Bailey’s Woman’s Prize.

I am alone at the beach full of people. F got loads of the small blisters yesterday And the chemist said to avoid the sun, so he’s at the house with the dogs. Later, we go back to Milan without him. He has another week here and I have another week of 35 degrees and getting up at 5.20 every day. I am already exhausted by the very thought of it!

But I’ll survive. I lay in the sun for a bit but was sweating like Niagera (spelling?) Falls so, after about 10 minutes, I was back In the shade of the umbrella.

I miss F but couldn’t stay at the house as he was going to “clean a bit”!

So, I sit typing this and, after I post this, back to my book.

Hope you have a lovely Sunday.

Hang on in there!

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Hang on in there!

I am exhausted, to be honest. The holiday, in a little more than 4 weeks, can’t come soon enough. It seems I never stop.

Take last night. I rush home from work, park the car, walk to the supermarket, momentarily forgetting that it’s about 34°C and therefore walking down the street with full sun on my back rather than a slightly longer way, mostly in the shade. I buy the minimum of stuff and walk back home down the shady streets.

Arriving home, as soon as I step through the door, having stopped “doing something”, I do my Niagara Falls impression. I put away the milk and stuff, change out of my suit (I had customers at work), put on shorts and a T-shirt. Within a second my T-shirt is soaked but there’s not really much I can do. I need to take the dogs out as I need to be back by 7.

I take them out. We do a slightly shorter walk in the heat. It’s too hot for them. I get home and Niagara starts again. Half an hour later, I change my T-shirt as the Falls have stopped (thank God) but the T-shirt is completely soaked. I could manage it better if I didn’t have to rush – but I have no choice but to rush.

After my appointment, I get to read the document that someone has sent me to look at. It seems serious. I text to say that we need to talk. She asks if now is possible and I agree (I shall be busy tomorrow and I want to pack for the weekend) so we meet at Bar Blanco, the nearest bar to my house. I tell her how bad it could be but that I’ve managed to find someone who may be able to help. It’s going to cost her anyway. She is grateful, for sure, but we end up having a drink which means I’m late taking the dogs out and so late to bed.

With less that 5 hours sleep, I feel like shit. But, I feel I have to help her and cannot just walk away.

But, it costs. The cost being my tiredness.

I don’t really need the appointment tonight but it has to be. Then pack. Then the dogs. Then bed – early, I really hope. I don’t want to drive all the way down there and then spend the whole of the weekend asleep! Not that I CAN sleep on the beach, but “sleepy mode”, if I’m tired, can mean a subdued and exhausting weekend.

But, F is being “made” to take 2 weeks holiday. That’s fair enough, since for over a month he has been home for about 4 days in total. He, too, is exhausted. He is with his mother for this time, with us going down for this weekend and next.

But it’s hard for me too. I have to do everything and there’s no time and the heat means I can’t take my time – although I much prefer this heat to the cold and, if I could just take things more slowly, I’d be fine!

But, only just over a week to go before he’s back home and we can share the dog walking. And just over 4 weeks an I shall be with Best Mate AND on holiday.

Hang on in there, I tell myself.

A night at Blue Note and the thoughts in my head; downloading a video from Facebook

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I can’t help but stare at him.

He’s young, probably about 25. He has that “floppy” hair that seems in favour, certainly with the gay people, here, in Milan, and he has a “kind of” beard. He plays the violin.

I stare at him because of the thoughts in my head. They race through, from one thing to another.

How lives are different; when I was his age; I could have been in this world; I’m envious that I’m not in this world; how fascinating to be creative; I wonder how much he practices; assuming he’s gay, I wonder what his boyfriend’s like; or maybe he has no time for that; always practising; up late every night performing; no money; no, I couldn’t have done that – no willpower to keep practising; how much do the whole band practise; he doesn’t really fit in with the rest of the band, they are much older, like “this is where not-famous musicians go to die”; but he’s too young for that – he has still to “make it”; so why is he here on stage with the oldies (none of them will be under 40); I wonder what his life’s really like; does he really have another job and this is only a hobby he wishes were something more; I wish I could do something creative; but I’m good with people; but that’s not really creative, is it; I wonder if I could do something creative with that skill; I would like to be on stage again; how did I get here – listening to this, in a foreign land, in a foreign tongue; am I lucky and will it always feel strange?

And so on, and so on.

That’s one thing.

There’s another.

We are at the concert of a “friend”. I mean, she’s not really a close friend but a friend of one of F’s colleagues, I. And she is a florist. And she sings. Good enough to have the stage at Blue Note in Milan – the kind of jazz/blues venue. And she was a student of mine once, for about 6 lessons.

We, in the audience, are a group of 5. There’s I, another girl, S, who is a very close friend and also works in one of the shops, and E who I’ve never met before. But they all know R, the singer. We don’t have a great place to see, being at the side of the stage but R has to walk past us to the stage and gives F her mobile asking him to take some pictures.

So, during the whole thing, F, E, S and I are taking videos and photos with her phone and theirs and then checking the photos and checking with each other for the best photos.

About the second song into the set, I am struck by the fact that, if I look around the place, everyone is watching R sing – except all the people in our group, who are, instead, checking their phones. OK, so R asked them for some photos but, really, even if all these people are friends of R, how come our world is now only really seen through the small screen of a telephone?

I find it a shame, really. People, as last night, are so busy with the technology, they forget to enjoy the experience.

I ate almost the whole plate of chips. And had two beers. And, after the concert, we went for an Indian. And, after a while, R and the entourage came too. But without the guy I mentioned at the beginning.

Of course.

Anyway, I’ve found out how to download a video from Facebook – that is, 1. Open the video in a new tab; 2. Change the part of the url from “www” to “m” and press enter; 3. As the video is playing, right click and “Save target as …..” which will save a copy to your hard disk.

Unfortunately, it seems the video doesn’t work (on this page – although I can play it on my desktop).  Damn the problem with browsers not supporting certain formats, etc.  Still working on it though.

In the meantime ……

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It’s not that I haven’t been writing.

It’s just that I haven’t been able to finish anything.

I don’t know – it’s a strange time. F has been away for almost a month now. I was joking with people the other day that I didn’t know who he was. Of course, the side-effect of this is that I have been incredibly busy, since I have to do everything at home. I don’t mind that, of course, but it all takes time.

There’s also another thing. Since I moved the blog and went through all the posts to delete some and ensure links still worked, I’ve become a bit more aware of the better writing and the boring stuff (this would go under the heading of “boring stuff”) and there’s a part of me that doesn’t finish the posts simply because I realise it’s not good writing or it falls into the category of “boring stuff”.

Of course, I should get over this. I can always delete posts later if they are really boring – like I did when I tidied things up after the move.

Also, because I’ve been so busy, there is also much less angst than usual and, as you will know, angst results in better writing. So, too busy = less angst = worse writing. A no win situation.

There have been many things that I’ve wanted to comment about, from the news, from life – but nothing really “strong”, nothing really important.

I am well. The dogs are well. F is stressed and tired but well. Summer is coming (it’s reasonably warm here if a bit temporal.)

So, that’s another thing – nothing is really happening.

Still, there ARE posts I want to finish so, who knows, maybe I will finish them soon.

In the meantime, apart from this post, I’ve been posting songs 8as you may have noticed) as a temporary stop-gap. Sorry.

Not first, last nor everything

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Not first last nor everything

2nd June is a national holiday here.

It is also the date that I met V all those years ago. Of course, I don’t forget that. He remains a significant part of my life even if a “past” part.

But as the years go on and my relationship with F becomes fuller with memories that we have of our own, the date itself becomes less important (although it will always remain significant.)

During my trip back to Milan I had several calls and texts. I don’t answer them as I am driving and really don’t want to be distracted when I’m hurtling along the motorway!

So I looked when I got back home.

And one of them was from V.

Obviously from an English phone. But it’s too strange. The things that are written are as if we are still together. Except one sentence:

I hope you feel comfortable to think of me and us on this very special day

Well, yes, of course I’m comfortable. I had already thought of it, of you – but it’s memories now and not the here and now. Here and now I’m on the beach, soaking up the sun. This is my life now.

One thing was a bit unfortunate although it may have been a slip of the fingers on the keyboard – he said it was 28 years ago – whereas, in fact, it was 27. I couldn’t resist pointing that out. Was that bad of me?

But, anyway, I’m afraid I can’t reply in the same way as he wrote. I told the truth which is that I don’t forget and am grateful I met him 27 years ago. For, as I’ve said before, I wouldn’t be here now without him. I wouldn’t have been lying on a beach on the Tuscan coast if it weren’t for him. But, I’m afraid he’s not “my first, my last, my everything” as he put. He was but now he isn’t.

And, anyway, given his modus operandi, the stuff he writes or says aren’t always exactly the truth. And if it is the truth, this becomes lopsided relationship since it isn’t reciprocated. It’s not that I don’t wish him well, nor that I don’t have love for him, it’s just that he isn’t my everything (nor even my first or last).

He’s someone who was a big part of my life and because of whom I am here, with F and for that reason he remains a part of my life. But only a part.