G'day Australia

25 degrees ... perfect blue sky. In Healesville. Sitting on a veranda. Cracking open the third VB of the arvo. Eating a sausage in bread. Smelling burning gum leaves from the burn off. Listening to the Melbourne cup. A dog humping my leg. As first days back in Australia go, this one wasn't bad!

It is now been just over a week since we arrived back, and I must say, it's very good to be home. Leaving Italy was a bit sad, and felt just a little premature as we sat on the train heading for the airport. To be honest though, since coming back and embarking on the "Aff'n'Chris magical tour of South East Australia" as we say hello to family and friends, it's really good to be home. The two most common questions Aff and I have been asked by people are: 1. How was Italy ? 2. What's it like to be home ? Question 1 is difficult to give anything like a genuinely correct answer to, at least in the time frame that the person asking the question would probably want. Aff and I seem to be giving different answers every time we get asked it, so clearly we are not quite sure "how Italy was" either. Our short answer at the moment is: Italy was good. The second question though, is my favourite. The answer to it also gives some hints to our answer to the first question as well.

"So what is it like to be back?" I hear you ask. The wannabe worldly traveller in me wants to say how much I miss Italy, how much I miss the culture, the travelling, the food, the language, and of course, the people. To be honest though, the prevailing emotion at the moment is one of relief and comfort. To be back in my own culture, speaking my own language, driving my own car on roads I know, through the familiar dry Australian country-side almost feels like a luxury. In many ways for me, coming home is one of the best parts of the travelling experience. Of course the novelty factor will wear off soon enough, and my daily routine will resume. I expect it will be sometime after this that my thoughts will drift back to Italy, and start to really miss some of the things we got familiar with over there. I will certainly miss the good people we met over there (I already do), the food, the ability to travel so freely. I think Aff and I will both miss the language as well. We both made progress with it, and I felt like I had discovered a whole new part of my brain I had never tapped into before. All these things I expect we will miss more and more as time goes on, and when the memories of all the difficulties we also had to face fade.

So, for the moment at least, it feels good to be home .. very good in fact. As for Italy, to say "it was good" is a gross understatement .. it was a lot more than good ... it was amazing, and I am so lucky to have had the chance to live there, if only briefly.

Arrivederci Italia! Ci vediamo a presto!

What a week! Sitting here at an "internet point" in Rome, being charged €3 an hour for the priveledge, doesn't really provide the ideal time (or environment) to post a summary of all the events that have taken place. The short story is that Aff and I have successfully managed to extract ourselves from our Genovese life, and are now in Rome with three days left in Italy before we head back to Melbourne. As expected, the days leading up to yesterday's departure were as hectic as ever.

We have sent a shipping container of crap (well, maybe not all crap ... my €5 leaning tower mug from Pisa is pretty precious) back to Oz, and packed the rest of our humble belongings into 5 of the most unsuitable bags for travelling (we ditched the suitcase because it weighs too much). No doubt we are still over the weight limit, but there is not much else we can do.

Certainly, the highlight of the last week in Genova has been the goodbye celebrations with friends we have made here. Saturday night was a pizza dinner, followed by drinks at our favourite bar in Genova, Le Lepre. It really felt a bit like an episode of "This is your life (in Genova)", with so many of the people we have met here in Genova, there to celebrate with us. Needless to say, I had a bit of a biggy (I don't know what was in that last cocktail you bought me Richard, but it was the killer punch!).

Sunday was an understandably quieter day, although Aff and I, along with some friends, did manage to finally get to the soccer to watch Genoa fight bravely against the much stronger Fiorentina (from Tuscany) in Italy's Series A. No goals were scored by either teams, but I am very glad we managed to get to a game before leaving. It truly is an Italian experience worth making time for (photos to come) .... and completely safe by the way !

Finally, on Tuesday night, after a somewhat exhausting day spent saying my goodbyes to people at work, and finalising the hand over of my work, we had one final goodbye drinks session at Le Lepre. I must admit, after rushing home from work to pack, and after Aff's exhasting day of organising the mailing of our belongings home, and the cleaning of our apartment (I think I had the better deal to be honest) , both of us were thinking we may have been a tad ambitious organising one last drinks session. After arriving at Le Lepre however, I instantly felt like it was a very good decision. There is nothing like a few beers (in my case, about 6 pints from memory), to get over the awkward goodbyes, and just let the emotions run free. There was hugging, and kissing (on bith cheaks of course), and at one point a rather unexpected grope (not even sure who from). It was the kind of goodbye that truly made me feel like we have connections in this town, and some friends that we will really want to keep in touch with.

This, in fact, has been a realisation I have had over the last two weeks leading up to our departure. As the day got closer, my keeness to get back to Australia seemed to diminish substantially. Of course, Aff and I are both very much looking forward to getting home and seeing everyone... but with unfinished PhD's, and house hunting awaiting us, it's not exactly an enticing prospect. Once the initial excitement of being home fades (probably sometime after our 2 week whirl wind tour of SE Australia, when we arrive back in Canberra), I expect a significant slump in our moods to occur. There is a lot to miss here (but equally, a lot to gain back in Australia). So yes, I expect we will miss this place a lot, but I equally expect (hope) that as we get settled back in Canberra, life will start to feel normal again. Who knows? ... it's all part of the adventure I guess, and if there is anything I have learnt from my time in Italy, it is to expect nothing, and be ready for anything!

Arrivederci Italia!! Ci vediamo a presto!!

l'ultima settimana a Genova

And so begins the last week in Genova. This time next week, we will most likely be on a train, heading south to Rome. Well, actually, it's equally likely that we will be standing on a platform, waiting for our train to Rome, which will undoubtedly be running an hour late .. but that's all part of the adventure. To be honest, with no pressing schedule in Rome, I wouldn't mind if the train were late. More time to soak up this place.

With 7 days left, so begins the week of "lasts". Today, for example, is my last "Mercoledi`" (Wednesday) here at work. Ahh Mercoledi`, I'll miss you! I'll miss the evening Italian lessons you gave me, and the volleyball.

Far more significant than last goodbyes to days of the week, however, is last goodbyes to friends I have made here. Last night was the first, where I said goodbye to Ryo, a Japanese researcher who has just embarked on a two week trip to Taiwan. Today I say goodbye to another good friend, Enrico, who is off to the States for a month or so.

I don't pretend to have made a whole lot of life long mates here in Genova. For a quiet guy like me, these sorts of friendships usually take at least 6 months to develop. Having said this, I have met a few people (like the above mentioned people), who I know I will keep up with, and most importantly, I will see again at some point. It makes me feel good to know I am going home with these genuine connections to Genova. It makes me feel like I actually did live here, if only briefly.

I can't say I am one for goodbyes. Quite frankly, I find them a little awkward and tiring. If it were socially acceptable to just leave a note, and jump on a train, I probably would. Not because I don't want to say goodbye, just because that would be easier, and less awkward. I never know what to say, and anything I do say makes me cringe when I think about it later. Of course, we won't just leave a note and leave! Aff and I will do something, probably smallish. Whatever we do, I am sure it will be a nice send off, and a great way to finish our time here in Genova.

Ridiculous!

Like most people, I have made some pretty ridiculous decisions in my life. Perhaps none more so than yesterday's decision to play soccer with a bunch of Italians. It was, in fact, my third time playing, although it had been some months since I last played. I am not quite sure what improvement I expected to magically appear in my game after three months, but whatever ability I thought I had, was instantly nullified in the first 2 minutes. There are few sweeping generalisations one can make about Italians (or any culture for that matter), but it would be fair to say that Italian men are generally pretty good at soccer ... and a fair percentage of them are really good. It would also be fair to say that 9 out of the 10 blokes from my workplace here in Genova, who played soccer last night .. were really good. The other bloke, me, filled the role of the awkward Aussie, introducing his own unique brand of football - randomness. After the first 10 minutes, I realised that my best tactic was simply to let the ball bounce off my legs, rather than to try and kick it.

There was noticeable frustration from my four team mates, who prior to my late arrival, were up, 6 : 3. We lost the game 7 : 9. And no, the 7th goal had nothing to do with me (unless you count the fact that I stayed well away from the ball when the goal was kicked).

It truly was a ridiculous idea .. but another "must" on my list of Italian experiences.

leaving and returning

It is always a bit of a strange feeling in the weeks before leaving a place you have spent a significant amount of time in. That is certainly how it feels at the moment. The "mixed feelings" cliche` seems to fit pretty well. I am as comfortable and familiar with my environment as I have been since arriving, which is not so surprising. On the other hand, my head is already half back in Australia, and ticking over the many tasks, challenges and choices that await Aff and I when we get back. I, of course, am trying to keep my mind in Italy as much as I can. I want to soak up as much of this fascinating place as possible. Since arriving, not a single day has gone by that I haven't looked around and just wondered how the hell my life managed to rock up here. Craziness! This daydreaming is usually interrupted abruptly by the sound of a scooter passing me within a couple of inches, forcing me to suddenly side step into three day old dog shit which, next to discovering 13th century gothic churches down dingy alleyways, is another common "experience" in Genova. Maybe not a particularly nice one, but all part of the experience nonetheless.

Of course, while trying to take these things in, the realities of going home are hard to ignore. Practical issues such as packing and sending things home, not to mention the million dollar/euro question of "where the hell are we gonna live ?", can quickly overwhelm. Inevitably Aff and I talk a lot about these issues in the evening, which always feels a bit strange and foreign after a day spent in such a different place as Genova. On the other hand, these same thoughts are a source of excitment as well. Aff and I are looking forward to coming home. Our existence in Italy has been an exciting one, but also a temporary one, and the desire to "get on with things" (whatever that means?) has grown over the course of our time here. In someways I see this as the most significant change in me over the course of my time here. I don't really know why. It could equally be attributed to being married. I suspect it's a little of both.

It's difficult to express these thoughts because there is always the risk of exagerating the importance, and significance of such experiences. In the end, we've spent 7 months in Italy, seen a lot of different things, met a lot of good people, eaten a lot of pizza, and drank a lot of vino ... not so different to home really! but it sure feels like it is.

from Verona to Venice

With three weeks left, Aff and I have become tourist machines. In the last month we have taken in Lucca ( a beautiful little Tuscan town, near Pisa), the Vale d'Aosta (Italian alpine country, up in the North West corner), and we have just returned from a 4 day trip that took in Verona and Venice. Trying to keep up with all this on the blog has been quite simply impossible. So, for the moment at least, I pick and choose.

Our trip to Venice was quite deliberately timed to be one of our last hoorahs in the North of Italy before we head south, and home. With Terry flying in from London, this was also the last chance to see my best mate before heading back home. The trip was an absolute highlight of my time here.

Verona was beautifully tranquil, although not without it's fair share of tourists. Verona's two biggest claims to fame are it's famous Roman ampitheatre (the Arena), which plays host to a much anticipated out door Opera season every year, and Shakespear's choice of Verona as the city in which Romeo and Juliet was set. I'm sure it has plenty of other claims to fame as well, but for the travel weary (which I must admit, I am a little), much of these details get missed.

And then Venice. Nothing I can say can do it justice. The photos are coming, I assure you. It is quite simply stunning. You pay for it of course, particularly if you stay on the Island as we did. Even so, to have had three uninterrupted days of playing in this maze of canals and lane ways felt like a luxury worth paying for. Don't believe anyone who suggests you can do Venice in a day. Two days at least!

Venice is like a medievil playground. You just wander around, get lost, eat, drink wine, and take a sh%@ load of photos while you're at it. Sure, you can do the whole Gondala thing, if you have 70 euro to burn, but just watching these boys do their stuff from the side lines is impressive, and satisfying enough (though I must admit, I was a little tempted).

And on top of all this, the company. Venice is best enjoyed with your partner, or good friends. I therefore had the best of both world's, with my wife, and my best mate to play with. It was a great trip, and a fanastic way to start the count down to our final three weeks here in Italy.

Notte Bianco - un'altra bella festa

The festivals just keep on coming, each relentlessly offering more opportunities to sample new food, drink more wine, and soak up more cultural experiences. Last Saturday Genova had it's night of nights, the "Notte Bianco" (white night). There is no deep historical story, patron saint, or crop harvesting that motivates the Notte Bianco, it's just a big street party - and big it was. At midnight, over 700,000 people were apparently packed into the streets of Genova. That, in itself is impressive enough, but it's even more impressive when you consider that Genova's population is only 600,000. Of course, mention this to a Roman, or a Milanese, and they will waste no time in telling you how small and pathetic this is in comparison with their own notti bianci. In any case, Genova's capacity was well and truly exceeded, to the point of rediculousness at times, so 700,000 pathetic attendees seemed like more than enough for me.

Aff and I met up with a few other friends from my work, and spent the night wandering the streets. Many of Genova's most significant piazzas played host to all kinds of entertainment, from medievil reenactments, to the all too familiar sounds of cheesy Italian pop (thank God Italy doesn't enter eurovision .. it just wouldn't be a fair contest). We watched fire works down at the port, danced in the streets, all the while keeping ourselves well and truly at cruising level with molta birre, e rum con red bull. The idea, after all, was to party all night.

One of the more interesting, and unique opportunities of the night, was the possibility of visiting one of Genova's main tourist attractions, The "Acquario di Genova" (the Aquarium). Open until 5.30am, and offering half price entry, and a free breakfast at the end of the night, this was very high on my priority list. Aff and I had not visited the Aquarium, much to the disgust of locals we dare admit this to (though we attempt to disperse this disapointment by explaining that we haven't even visited Melbourne's aquarium). As such, a half price, 5am visit to a major Genovese attraction seemed like a perfectly good idea. Leaving ourselves a questionable 45 minutes before official closing time, Aff and I said our "buona notte's" to our friends (who didn't seem to be as keen on a late night aquarium visit), and joined the back of a queue of around 20 or so others. The line was moving steadily, and all seemed perfectly in place for us to cap off a great night among the fish - that is, until 5am, when we had reached the front of the queue, only to watch the shutters of the ticket window close before us. And there we stood, along with our fellow queue dwellers, staring in bemusement at the closed window.

There are many things I admire about the "Italian way". None more so than there complete self assurity and belief that there is always a way to achieve something, despite all evidence to the contrary. Sure, the ticket window was closed, and there was not sign of an aquarium employee to be found, but this did not stop them (and by association, Aff and I) from walking from the ticket booth, to the stairs leading up to the aquarium. A security guard awaited us. It was pretty clear that the security guard was under strict instructions to not allow anyone in. It was equally clear that the security guard had no clout with the establishment, and was not going to be able to fight on our behalf. This, however, did not stop some of the more vocal Italians in our group (about 18 of the 20 of us) from explaining at length, and with full Italian hand gestures at work, what injustice this was to shut us all out. Interestingly, the security guard did seem to be quite happy to engage in the dialogue. Aff and I watched, waiting to see if we were about to witness some great insight into the way Italian society works. Would the people have there way ? Would we walk gloriously into the aquarium, see our fish, and devour our well deserved free breakfast ?

About 10 mninutes later, the police turned up, and we were asked to leave, and so we all did.

After a sneaky kebab from our favourite late night out kebab shop, and a 10 minute walk home, Aff and I were nicely tucked up in bed by 5:45am.

Un'altra bella festa in Italia!

Now for some photos. You may get a sense that the evening had two distinct phases...

"Festival delle Sagre" in Asti

Italians do like a festival or two, and will seemingly organise one for just about any excuse under the sun. On Sunday, Aff and I decided to make the journey to Asti (pop 80,000, about 90 minutes train ride from Genova (on the way to Turin). We had originally planned to make the trip to Turin, but after reading that the second Sunday of September is Asti's day of days, The "Festa della Sagre" (basically means the festival of the town), we thought this might be worth a visit.

Asti didn't dissapoint!

Having just caught the 8am Intercity train from Genova, we managed to arrive just in time for the start of what must surely be the world's longest parade. Asti is a regional centre to a whole bunch of villages in the area, most of which have strong connections with the local wine industry (they mostly produce "Spumante", that sickly sweet sparkling wine so many of us became aquainted with early in our drinking careers), as well as corn growing (for polenta). As a result, most of the parade consisted of elaborate floats, paying tribute to the production, and consumption of food and wine (which I guess doesn't really distinguish it so much from other Italian festivals). There were other floats, dedicated to landmarks, and historical events from the region, but it didn't take long for another float to go past, depicting a bunch of old Italian blokes drinking vast amounts of vino rosso .... they played the part quite well ... if indeed they were playing the part at all.

After the parade, which took no less than 2.5 hours, including no less than 40 different represented regions, the real fun began in an adjacent car park lot, where around 40 food stalls lay waiting with many different local foods, and wines to taste. Without a moment to lose, thousands of Italians, and two not so well informed Australians, made their way on mass to the food. This event really did sum up everything I love, and hate, about life in Italy. The food on offer was amazing, and the prices next to nothing. The wine also it's usual high standard, and was virtually free once you purchased your 50c glass. Italians know, probably better than most, how to put on a town festival. These festivals seem to embody the pride of the region, particularly with respect to their food and produce. Nothing is expensive, and everything is top notch. On the downside, at least for us Australians used to a little more space, and order, is the enormity of the crowds, and the crushing "queues" one must endure to obtain the popular dishes. "Festival queueing" in Italy is an art form in itself, and requires a special kind of assertiveness, tolerance and endurance ... and that's just to get your food and wine tickets, then you have to line up seperately for each item you wish to take. Of course, none of this is helped by the constant defending of your place, and the hot north Italian sun baking the bituman surface below. To be fair, things did get consderably easier as the day went on, and the length of the queues lessened. Aff and I managed to visit a number of stalls, and sample a reasonable amount of the local wine (well, perhaps I sampled a little more than Aff did ). Like I said, they virtually give their wine away at these festivals. I can't imagine what kind of a mess such an event would end up being in Australia ... the Italians, to their credit, generally keep their consumption of alcohol to moderate amounts, which allows events like this to remain enjoyable for all.

Now for some photos. First, the parade, for which I unfortunately cannot add much of an explanation. There was an announcer, but my Italian wasn't quite up to understanding what the hell these floats were all about.

Yes, it's a cow!

Now for the food....


yes .... it's a little fried fish
(I thought they were chips)

yes .... the wine was plentiful!

yes ... that's a dog at the dinner table.

and yes ... I may have had a few.

It was a great day!

Summer in Genova

As usual, the frequency of posting on my blog is inversely proportional to the busy-ness of life at the moment. With internet access only at work, and a growing need to actually do work, while at work, it has been difficult to find time to post much. The short summary of life at the moment is, things are good. It's summer time, and even better, it's vacanza time! It's an interesting time because Italian cities really do seem to just empty out. In Genova, the traffic conjestion normally associated with Genovese people trying to get to work, is replaced by traffic conjestion in the opposite directio, normally due to those "f%&^ing" Milanese", as one friend told me, who come to Genova in their thousands to catch ferries to Corsica, Sardegna, Tunisia, Spain, France ... probably Australia for all I know.

It's a good time to be in Genova. With so many people on vacation, things feel calmer and more comfortable for people like Aff and me, who generally crave the quieter life. It's also good because I think Genova enjoys the best weather of any Italian city in summer. I was told that Genovese summer's can be quite brutal - particularly because of the humidity, which was described to me as stiffling. Things might be a little muggy here, but I really have not experienced anywhere near the discomfort that people told me to expect .. but then again, having spent some time in Singapore, I may have a slightly broader scale on which to assess humidity. In truth, Genova's weather is close to perfect. While the rest the country swelter's in 35+ temperatures, Genova seems to stick to the high 20's. At night it dips down to the low 20's - just cool enough to get some sleep.

As for travel, Aff and I have chalked up quite a few destinations over the last month. Lake Como, Cinque Terre (yes, again -- our 4th visit I think, but it is only an hour away), and Florence. All deserve there own report, or at least some photos (to come, I promise).

Aff is currently away in Sardegna on her own adventures until next week. After that, both of us take off for 2 weeks to London, Paris and Switzerland. Perhaps not typical summer locations, but with half the population of these places heading our way, they seem like good places to go.

living or visiting ?

Life is pretty frantic at the moment. In fact, the last four weeks have been down right exhausting. Things are good, but much like Italian drivers, Aff and I could probably do with a slight easing of the foot off the accelerator. It's difficult though. We have 6 months (well, 4 months now) in this city. Since the moment we arrived here, I have realised that this is really quite an awkward time period. Is 6 months in a city considered "living" in it ? or is it just an extended visit. I think Aff and I both believed we were coming to Genova to live for 6 months, rather than just visit. I still think this is true, but I have since come to realise that with only 6 months here, perhaps the "visiting" mentality isn't such a bad thing either.

The biggest challenge I have faced is of course the language. It is difficult to live in Italy without the language, and if you are living here, then it is difficult to not feel obliged to learn it - and fair enough I guess. If you are visiting though, I don't think too many Italians would expect this, beyond perhaps a few basic phrases to buy milk, and get an all day bus ticket. So which category are Aff and I in ? When I arrived, my thoughts were, "I must learn the language if I am going to make friends with people here". When I mention this to Italians I have met, their first response is usually, "why? you are only here for 6 months". After hearing that response a few times, I realise that in the eyes of those who actually live here, I am very much a visitor.

While this might sound like something to be disappointed about, I have actually found releasing myself from this need to feel like I am living in Genova quite a weight off my shoulder. Much of the franticness of the last few weeks has been motivated mostly by my personal need to be meeting people and making as many friends as I can. In my mind, to say no, or not attend something is to risk missing an opportunity to get to know people better. Of course, this might be true, but why do I care so much if I am only here for 6 months anyway. Why do I need to be best mates with every single person I meet ? why do I feel like I need a best mate at all ... particularly if I am just visiting ? Even if I was living here, I doubt I would easily find this in my first 6 months.

This doesn't mean I shut up shop, and not talk to anyone. Nor does it mean I quit my language lessons. Both these things have been the most rewarding parts of my experience in Genova so far .. but also the most stressful. Perhaps viewing these things not so much as ends in themselves, but rather as bonuses along the way is the better way to go. Aff and I have many priorities to balance while we are here, and while our time here has been good so far, I think we have both probably sacrificed a few things in favour of learning the language, and constantly trying to make new friends .. the worst of these probably being spending time with each other, and just taking in where we are.

With four months to go, I am happy that I am starting to work these priority conflicts out now. I suspect life will always feel a bit frantic while we are here. Genova is a pretty frantic place. At least with some realistic perspectives on what it means to spend 6 months in a foreign city, I am starting to work out what I am actually here to do, and what really matters .. something that will probably also be useful to me when I get home as well.

The Italian Stallions

"another satisfied guest at casa Aff'n'Chris"

T and C at Spianata Castelleto (Belvedere Montaldo), the obligatory first stop for all guests of casa Aff'n'Chris

taken 09/06/2007

Three Aussies and a Russian walk into a bar ..

"and that's the way we all became the brady bunch"

A night out with T (and our new Russian amico Tim) at Porto Antico, Genoa
(taken 08/06/2007)

Dees win first game of season - Genova goes wild!

"after nine rounds of dissapointment, Genovese fans errupt at the news of Melbourne's first win"

Piazza De Ferrari, Centro Genoa (taken 10/06/07)

As I stood watching this spontaneous street party errupt in Piazza Deferrari last night, I couldn't help but think that this may in fact be the closest I'll ever get to seeing the Melbourne colours, red and blue, being marched triumphantly down the main drag of my home town. Of course, the red and blue colours had nothing to do with the Melbourne Football Club, but rather, the triumphant promotion of the Genoa Football (i.e soccer) Club to Serie A in Italy's Lega Calcio.

No less than 5,000 people (according to this morning's paper) crowded into Piazza De Ferrari (more or less the city centre) to celebrate the fact that Genoa, after 12 years in "Serie B" (second division), have just been promoted to Serie A after a nill all draw with Napoli. This may not seem like a big deal, but in soccer mad Italia, if your not competing in the top division, your not really competing. Clearly the loyal Genovese fans were pretty happy to hear that next season, they will be competing again.

I must admit, I was quite oblivious to this event at the start of the day, although I did note a little more red and blue being worn around town than usual. It wasn't until the late afternoon, when I heard a sudden burst of beeping horns, and cheering, that I realised there was something going on. In a flash, I grabbed the camera, and went on the hunt. This is what I found:




Aff and I stuck around for almost 2 hours, and the party never really looked like stopping. We decided to leave when someone shot a firework rocket through the window of one of the adjacent buildings. The fire brigade arrived not long after, just as smoke started to pour out of the window. I truly haven't seen anything quite like it, and I can only imagine what it was like when Italy won the world cup.

Interestingly, the similiarity between the Genoa and Melbourne football clubs go further than their choice of colours. The full name of the Genovese soccer club is "The Genoa Cricket and Football Club", which was first established in 1893 by a bunch of poms living in Genoa at the time. Of course, the Melbourne football club also orginated from the MCC (Melbourne Cricket Club), and still holds close ties. It is also interesting to note that the Genoa Football Club uses the English spelling of Genova (i.e without the 'v'), again as a result of it's English roots.

Needless to say, with the red and blue colours, and now a place in the top division of one of the world's best soccer competitions, I have well and truly jumped aboard the good ship Genoa C.F.C. Of course, you can never really call yourself a fan until you buy a team flag, which I did:

Tiramisu for Sabine!

Hi Sabine - this one's for you.


"Tiramisu alla Affrica - molto buorno!"
taken 30/05/07

It's a tough life ...

...but someone's gotta do it!

Nervi beach, 7km East of Genoa (taken 27/05/07)

Via Garibaldi

"Sure .. Nice palaces, but can someone tell me where I can buy milk in this neighbourhood ?"
Via Garibaldi, Genova (taken 30/04/07)

aye aye captain!

It is often said that Italy is the centre of style and fashion. In fact, if there was one repeatedly given piece of advice I can remember before coming here, it was get ready to feel very under dressed. With this message well and truly engraved in my mind, I rid myself of almost half my tired, warn out wardrobe, in anticipation of a whole new world of fashion.

Now I'll admit, Italy does have style, and yes, fashion - but as Jeff from Lismore, a guy I met at the pub the other night pointed out to me, "yeah, there's a fair bit of fashion, but don't you think the blokes here look a bit puncy?"

He had a point. If Italy is where men's fashion is heading, then God help the humble, true blue, she'll be right, Aussie bloke. I can't say I could picture either Jeff, or myself, in a figure hugging, blue and white v-neck sailor shirt with tight 3/4 length jeans, designer mullet and "Thorpy" stubble.

As an observer, this look is quite fascinating, and can even start to rub off on you .. that is, until you go into a clothes store and try on something. The are few things more disturbing than seeing yourself in a horizontally striped, figure hugging, v-neck sailor shirt. Like a contour map of the Alpine National Park, the stripes provide an unforgiving portrayal of ones mid section. Thankfully, more conventional clothing does exist, and with some searching, I have discovered clothing more to my taste.

Who knows what I look like to the locals. Who knows what I will look like to Australia when I return. The problem with taste is that it changes unconsciously, and without objectivity. Having said this,the day I look in the shop window at a blue and white stripy v-neck sailor shirt, and think "that might just work", must surely be the day I book my ticket home.

Our new home ..

"Italian Mumma ... on speed"

Our apartment, Genova (taken 02/05/07)

Ciao Genoa!

"medievil sprawl "

Centro Storico - downtown Genoa (2 mins walk from our appartment)
taken 30/04/07

Musing in Manarola

"macca musing in Manarola"

Manarola, Cinque Terre (taken 22/04/07)