Some stories from Genoa ...

I haven’t been writing much.  I am still tired from last week’s cold and, somehow, so very slow at digging into my usual creative space here in Genova.

But anyway, delightful things are happening despite this slowness in me and, today I wandered out to Boccadasse.  It soothed my kiwi soul, as always.

Meanwhile, yesterday, while trying to convince myself that getting out of bed was a good idea, Shannon smsed inviting me to join her for breakfast in the city.  I thought it a lovely idea and managed to shower and dress in time.  I took her to my favourite coffee and aperitivo bar here in the city - Bar Boomerang

We talked, and then we talked somemore as we walked.  I pointed out my favourite pizzeria and the fabulous forno as we wandered and she introduced me to some new twisting turning alleyways and streets nearby.  It was a lovely morning.  Grazie, Shannon.

Shannon is an American who moved to Genova via New Zealand.  We found each other via the blogs, of course.

I returned to the kitchen table, here in the apartment, and worked for a while before wandering off to have coffee with Lorenzo, and to catch up on his news.

This morning there was another delightful sms.  This time it was Stefano and he succeeded, yet again, in introducing me to new and delicious Genovese food.  It was good to catch up with him and he lifted my mood from flat and tired to curious and ready to wander.  He went back to work and I picked up my camera and headed for Bus 42 - destination Boccadasse.

I don’t know how I stayed away from my favourite place so long, as I’m at least 5 days into this visit.  It was so good to visit that part of the coastline again.  I would love to live there, in one of those houses located on the side of the hill.  There, even if you can’t see the sea, you can smell it.

Later, I was delighted to discover silverbeet at the supermarket (Jessie tells me it is also known as Swiss Chard), and in Italiano, it’s called bietola.  I picked up a bunch, a tied bunch and put it in a plastic bag to take home.  Mmmm, and added some carrots to my basket, then thought about some kind of omlettely thing (ignoring the fact that eggs really dislike me).  I threw in all kinds of good food ... inspired by the silverbeet to take the path of adult cooking instead of my Traveling Subsistance- Style.

Then! at the counter, I became one of those dreadful people who hold up queues while sprinting off to weigh some forgotten item.  I was so sure my checkout lady was wrong and in the spirit of bad-karma-for-doubters, I reached the scales - out of the supermaket, back into the supermarket - and couldn’t remember the name of the silverbeet.  The clock was ticking.  And yes, there were photographs identifying the vegetables on the scales but I knew she was wrong ... that it wouldn’t be there.

Blind panic eased and voila, I found it.

I sped back and had my return to the head of the queue obstructed by this fierce little fur-clad elderly woman who wasn’t letting any pushy foreigner past her.
Oh god, I’m not made for confrontations.  I’m a photographer, I like to quietly slip through life most of the time, unless telling stories, and especially at moments like this.

A lovely elderly gentleman heard my ‘permisso’ and smiled, then eased the little woman out of my way. 

It’s so universal ... all of that waiting at the checkout but usually I’m not the big delay.

So I have all this good food ... well some.  I forgot to buy a personal chef at the supermarket.  And so I made soup.  The simplest kind, as I don’t have ingredients here but Mum and Dad always had silverbeet growing in the garden and I haven’t had it/seen it since leaving New Zealand.  It was a soup of silverbeet, white onion, carrot, water and salt ... and it was delicious.

Ciao from beautiful Genova.