Coughing is all I do these days ... since 25 October, to be precise.
Well, the cold, not the coughing. The coughing is the last of it, I’m hoping.
I’m horrible at looking after myself.
And I don’t like taking medicine. I never have. Try not to do it.
But last night, I was awake and coughing for most of the night.
I don’t speak Italian well enough to describe my symptoms. And I have this HUGE imagination which needs a native language, or a native language listener. I tell complicated stories when I describe things ... in my New Zealand English which, to some ears, is an excruciating kind of English.
I now have 3 different kinds of medicine from 3 different Italian pharmacies, medicines that I will probably never take because I’m not quite sure what they are.
So, a huge thank you to Paola and Simon who gifted me an exquisite collection of ‘happy birthday’ red wine bottles that have entirely replaced all medicines.
Tonight’s Fret, Barbera D’Alba ... superiore 2008, was truly divine.
I had to miss my jazz/cooking evening. I couldn’t go out. Last night I didn’t sleep much between attempting to cough everything out. Tonight finds me quietly destroyed, with big black rings under my tired eyes.
And I know ... how can you sympathise with me while I am here in Italy. I understand.
But anyway ... a smiling ciao from the kiwi, loving living here in this exquisite Italian city.
The photograph below ... a reflection discovered between the cobblestones here in Genova. If only I didn’t have to look quite so odd when taking these photographs. I’m that foreign creature, stalking reflections in puddles in Piazza de Ferrari.