Piazza Banchi, Genova

I think one’s art goes as far and as deep as one’s love goes. I see no reason to paint but that.
Andrew Wyeth.

Exploring the depth of my love for a place seems like an inspiring reason to take photographs too.  There is more passion, more depth and emotion, when you turn your camera on something you love.

Piazza Banchi, the place where I buy my pink flowers when in Genova.  Taken one winter's night, January, 2012.

(Note: this was taken after the sun had gone down.  I spun my Canon EOS 5D MkII's ISO up to someplace around 6000 (thank you to Canon for this option) then handheld the camera to see what I might get without a flash or a tripod.)

Antica Drogheria di Canneto, Genova

I met the loveliest man, via Francesca, when she was searching for Lupini ...

We decided they were surely something to do with my beloved flower, the Lupin, but the photograph on the bag of beans showed this enormously strange and beautiful tree.  Google-searching tonight, Francesca ... it seems we were right.  All photographs in the search pointed to the Lupin I know.

Anyway, I wasn't carrying my photography gear and Francesca asked if I might wander back along Via di Canneto il Lungo, to number 54R, for a photography shoot.  The lovely man said, 'Si'.  So here's a small glimpse of the magical drogheria where you can buy all kinds of everything.

He tried some of his English and I appreciated it immensely but here, you can see him chatting with Karla Verdugo, a favourite artist friend of mine.

Genovese Days ...

It's been up and down and all over the place ... but then again, that's the reality of my wandering life.

I love wandering.  It's been a passion since forever.  I must confess though, it's not all easy and fun.  And just like the good days, the bad days are kind of extreme. 

Saturday was sublime.  Sunday was spent out at Arenzano with the lovely Francesca, her children and Ashley, a New Zealander.  The sea had real waves, just like New Zealand, and the company was grand.  I'm hoping I convinced Ashley to come stay with us in Belgium at some point in the near future.

It was a delicious day that ended well.  Monday, I woke from nightmares and my mouth was sore.  I decided to walk them off.  I called in to buy salt from Francesca at Le Gramole, as I passed by on my regular walking route, and she was like this lovely ray of sunshine in my day.  Much-needed, although she gifted me the salt which was very kind ... on top of the whole making me smile thing. 

The first walk done, I returned and realised my usb modem, purchased 3 months ago, was about to run out of hours. Life without the internet ... incomprehensible.

I raced out again, all the way down the hill towards the harbour, weaving through the caruggi like an expert ... so proud until I realised I was in the wrong place.  Eventually I arrived at the right TIM shop and voila, they were closed on Monday mornings.

Back to the house, a quick shower due to the humidity here and the fact it's warmer than I'm used to at this time of year here in Europe.  I was meeting Francesca G for lunch and we wandered some more.  It's always lovely to spend time with Francesca.  She is my translator in this world but more than that, I consider her the loveliest friend.

Enroute in search of metal detectors for sons and lupini, we called by at TIM and I picked up a short term recharge on my usb modem for 9 euro.  I love TIM and their service.

Well, I arrived home about 6.30pm and realised my usb modem just wouldn't work in any way that was satisfactory.  I looked at the clock, wondered how late they were open and set off, at a brisk pace.  They were open and I can't say enough good things about the TIM assistant who worked for an hour, getting my usb modem up and running.

Dinner was cereal and yogurt because I'm terrible here.  And I worked late into the night.

Today ... the weather.  You probably cannot imagine how glorious a day can be here in Genova, Italy in the middle of winter.  I think it was about 17 celsius at one point, deep blue skies and sunshine forever. 

I could prove this, had I packed the card reader I need to transfer my photographs to my computer ... even if I had packed a spare usb cable but no.  All images remain safely here on my camera. 

You see, I don't have my everyday laptop with me.  I decided that the life of a sherpa was not for me, and I packed light.  I am regretting it but my body appreciated it on the long haul here.  The everyday laptop has everything I need on it.  This little travel laptop has very little ...

I spent a lovely few hours catching up with Karla, a friend and artist who lives here in the city.

Dinner tonight is pizza from the exquisite Pizzeria Ravecca.  The same as the one pictured in this post.  I'm kind of stuck on this one.

Things are going well ... well, except for the train strike scheduled for Friday.  That would be the day that I need to get from Genova to Milano for my 7pm flight.  It's 2 hours on the train from Genova, then another 50 minutes on a second train to the airport.  We shall see how that goes.

So ... a short round-up of news here in Genova.  I have some truly delicious news in the days ahead but let me get it all set up before I write of it here.

Ciao from Genova!

A Winter Sunday in Genova

I woke before 7am, to the quiet that is this small street on a Sunday.  The shops and cafes take a day of rest and almost no one was stirring ... or so few that I could sleep again, in the time that passed between suitcase wheels running over the huge stones of the street.

I woke to grey clouds but it's not cold.  This I discovered on venturing out in search of my Sunday focaccia.

The sound of the fountain in Piazza de Ferrari filled the air, owning the entire piazza in a way I had never noticed before.  It was a powerful presence, in the Sunday-morning-quiet of the old city.

Walking, I discovered that the artists of via San Lorenzo were already out and unpacking their paintings.  Amedeo came over to greet me, and I walked back up to his car with him, to help with his work.  He bought me an espresso.  We exchanged slightly ashamed confessions regarding our failure to learn each others' language since our last meeting.

(I need an Italian teacher based in Antwerpen ... does anyone know of someone?)

I stayed a while before continuing on my search for focaccia, came back to share but he had already eaten and so I strolled home, via Piazza de Ferrari again, unable to resist visiting the fountain.

And as I strolled, I realised that even this early on a Sunday morning, there are good people out on the streets, people to talk with, and that there is so much beauty that it fills me with a peaceful joy that I don't take forgranted.

Buongiorno, from La Superba ... otherwise known as Genova.