Returned to Rome...

Turkey bound

Piazza di Spagna Roma ...a great place to people meet and watch 

I love Rome.

I just love the chaos of it, the fact that in just a few steps you can hear a dozen different languages, that everywhere you go fellow travellers are standing on street corners map in hand looking lost and that no matter how many times I come here I find something new.

  

Because I arrived without accommodation, I put my luggage in storage for a few hours while I looked for a place to stay.

It takes a few hours of walking in the nearby streets off Via Marsala and Giolitti but finally I find a room at Hotel Marisa right across the road from Termini Railway Station. For 60 euros, it is clean and convenient. It has a tiny but functional bathroom, hot water and wifi (5 euro extra) the breakfast ends up being pretty grim but the good location is hard to beat.

There are literally dozens of hotels, b and b’s and hostels located around Termini, particularly on and off Via’s Marsala and Giolotti which run alongside either side of the station.

After a hot shower, all is right with the world again and I walk in to the Spanish Steps where I have arranged to meet the girls. I can’t resist a home made gelato along the way!

This time I am pretty busy organising onward flights and accommodation and deciding what to do with my second small piece of luggage which is proving difficult and costly to haul around with me, so my Rome time is spent  walking each morning and meeting Lil and Ang (my young meditating buddies)for drinks and dinner each night.

A friend’s Mum kindly agrees to “bag sit” for me and even comes to pick it up as I have made a big mistake and booked 2 flights to get me to Cappadocia online for a day earlier than I thought and before I know it, I am sitting on the Pegasus plane waiting for take off, Turkey bound!

Some tips for Rome

If you arrive without accommodation, the tourist information booth located at Termini (go down platform 24 about half way down turn right near the car rental booths) will have a list of accommodation in the area you are interested in. Their friendly and knowledgeable staff (at least they were the times I was there) speak about 4 different languages each.    

There’s a luggage deposit (Deposito Bagagli) at Termini, downstairs also near Binario (Platform) 24. It costs 4 euro per item for the first 5 hours and is open from 6.30am to 11.50pm. You’ll need to show your passport to leave luggage.

Train to Fiumicino Airport

Tickets can be bought from the station or tobacconists nearby. They cost 14 euro for a 1 way trip and need to be validated in the yellow machines on the platforms. There are 2 platforms dedicated to this service, currently platform 27/28. Walk down platform 24 (located at far right of the terminal as you are looking at the trains) until you get to the end and turn right. Fiumicino train leaves approx every 30 minutes and takes 30 minutes to get to the airport.  

Talk soon

Mon x

Released from the "retreat"

Antonia and Terziglia are sisters in law. They live next door to “Paradise” on a property that has been in the family for generations. I met them the other day and was so thrilled when they invited me to have a coffee and to hear a little bit about their life.

Antonia’s husband died 3 years ago, after they celebrated over 60 happy years together. She misses him terribly and even though her 4 children and grandchildren visit regularly she often feels lonely. She proudly shows me a photo of him as a handsome young man in military uniform and another of them together, just newly married.   

She is a small but physically and mentally strong 83 year old, used to looking after herself and although she admits to a few aches and pains occasionally, she is grateful for her mainly good health.

Terziglia lives next door with her husband Bepe who has Alzheimer’s disease. The small man lying on the couch in the near foetal position bears no resemblance to the man in the photos above him celebrating his 50^th wedding anniversary with his wife and 4 children. For the last 5 years Terziglia has cared for him at home, on her own. She admits that it is hard at times as he doesn’t recognise anyone now, but he is a good man she tells me and he is gentle.

We sit outside in the sunshine overlooking their fields and the retreat house which was part of their family land before the Davis’ bought the property, while Antonia makes coffee and Terziglia shows me some newly hatched chicks.

They tell me about the “early years” with no running water, electricity or means of communication, when going to the shops meant a 10 kilometre return walk into Assisi.

They reminisce about their lives as young wives and mothers with long days spent caring for children, cooking, feeding animals and carrying food to their men folk working long hours in the fields. Between them they have raised 8 children rarely leaving the property except to go to church and to shop. Even now they are isolated as they don’t drive and have few visitors except for their children and a man who calls in once a week to sell them provisions. Neither woman progressed beyond primary school. The life they describe sounds harsh. I imagine them both heavily pregnant and climbing trees to strip leaves to feed their animals and carrying heavy baskets on their heads, the pain and stiffness in their neck and shoulders now, a legacy of that time. Their modest home seems almost luxurious compared to what they have lived with in the past.

I imagine them doing their weekly washing in a nearby creek and sitting proudly around family meals with their brood, the young cousins growing up firm friends.

When I leave them a few hours later, it is with the taste of coffee in my mouth, fresh eggs and still warm biscuits in my hand and a deep respect and gratitude in my heart.

Cast out of Paradise!

Looking back, it was probably one of the strangest experiences of my life and I am still not quite sure how it happened but I am the first person I know to be asked to leave a meditation retreat!

It was not, as my dear brother-in-law, John, gently suggested tongue in cheek, because I was too “quiet”, but because I wanted to (as was actually suggested by the people running the retreat) follow my own schedule. The hour long morning meditation session (usually longer after listening to the bells and some daily “words of wisdom” by Bruce held indoors at 8.50 was right when I would ideally be off hiking or writing on my own (I usually get up very early and do my own meditation and qigong practice) and then after a one to one with each person to see how they were going, Ruth held a kind of moving meditation at 11.30 which left little time after lunch and other domestics to “be in silence on your own” until the evening meditation session.

One of the first things that Bruce said and I particularly liked was that the retreat could be as structured or unstructured as we liked and needed and that they were there to support us to enable us to “go deep”, give and receive the gift of silence, and be gentle with ourselves to enable us to get to a place of spaciousness and stillness not possible in our normal busy lives.  

Sounds good, so far.

But after struggling for four days with being indoors in an enclosed space sitting still with the smell of funereal incense thick in the air, and the silence punctuated at times with stomach rumbles, coughs, throat clearing and other bodily eruptions, while glimpsing the gorgeous greenery and nature outside and wishing I could be out there or reading or writing on my own, I was torn between wanting to do my own thing, or going along with their program and be open to the experience.

After being reminded that this was my retreat and I should do what needed, I dared do exactly that, when it was politely but firmly suggested I find another place to stay.   

mmm... interesting…

So, with not a lot of time to come up with or enact plan B, as I was expecting to stay in Paradise for another week, and simultaneously trying to make the most of my last hours there, pack and decide what to do next (not rendered an easy task as communicating with the outside world was fairly frowned upon as well, I decided to head to Rome and see what happened.

Later, after a leisurely 2 hour train trip, over a couple of Prosecco’s and fabulous food, my gorgeous new BF’s and Aussie meditators discussed the many inconsistencies we had experienced during our stay. Ok we are all hypocritical at times but most of us don’t set ourselves up in quite the same way as these “professional spiritual leaders”did..

What’s weird is that they just didn’t seem to “get” just how hypocritical they were, harping on about how “safe” the place was and ignoring the fact that one of young “guests” was distressed or being so concerned about sticking to their rules and the way they do things as to ignore the real needs of the people seeking a safe and nurturing environment, which invalidated a really big part of what they said.

I could go on about some other things, like the “hidden” transport costs, but I won’t because the overwhelming thing I will take away from my time there is the stunning setting, the lovely space they have created within it and that overall the experience was hugely positive, and I met the most wonderful, smart, gutsy, gorgeous young and older women and a nice taxi driver!

Anyway, as I sit at Rome airport about to head off to Cappodocia and think back on my time in Assisi, I am so glad I went. The environment was truly magical, and I really did enjoy waking up during the night and from my comfortable bed looking out at the stars and moon, walking through the Tuscan hills with its signature Cypresses, and vineyards, freshly turned fields and olive trees and absorbing the energy of  place that is solidly serene.

Bring on the next adventure!

Mon x

on my knees but I still had to leave!

a truly peaceful place to sit and absorb the stillness

Assisi...at the doors of paradise!

These photos are out of order, but you'll get the idea...

I am not one for religious icons but as you'll see this place is inclusive

Assisi

view from our lunch spot

glorious afternoon

lots of walking but worth it

peaceful and picturesque

local artwork

view from St Francis' Basilica

down the dirt road to my retreat

Autumn in Tuscany

sunrise 

exploring the property

my room with green view

small cloud suspended over field

Assisi in the distance

most religions are represented in the garden

Even if you are not religious, it is immediately apparent that Assisi is a spiritual and sacred place. Not far from Perugia, and set on a hill in the Tuscan countryside, Assisi’s energy is palpably peaceful. I have come for a “silent stay” ( a meditation retreat) for 5 days at the beautiful property called “At the gates of Paradise” belonging to Ruth and Bruce Davis, two American expats who have made Assisi home for the last 12 years. www.AssisiRetreats.org or http://www.simplepeaceretreats.com/

I am not sure what to expect, but I am open to the experience. This is one of the many things I had on my “bucket list” for this mid life year; to have one experience of “recharging” finding a quiet place somewhere in nature where I could just read, and write and meditate and when a friend sent me a link to this site it seemed fortuitous.

I arrived yesterday after a 7 hour drive from the north of Italy, initially taking the autostrada until Florence and then the more picturesque strade statale until Perugia airport where I had arranged to leave my hire car. I had set off in the dark at 5am and the music of Cuba’s premier salsa boy band accompanied me until I arrived in Tuscany and then a violin concerto seemed the perfect music to drive through the gorgeous Tuscan hills with.

I stopped briefly at one of the Autogrills (road house chains)along the way to fill up with petrol and have a coffee, parking my little Fiat 500 in between all the big road trucks whose drivers were having a rest or refreshment break.

Road houses in Italy are a surprisingly pleasant experience. Impeccably clean, free toilet facilities and unlike my road house experiences in Australia they serve amazingly good fresh food and coffee. It was such a joy to bite into a warm cream filled brioche and have a cappucino at the counter with other locals and when I set off again a few minutes later it was to a sunrise welcoming another gorgeous day. 

Just by chance my Sicilan friends (Nuccio and Mariella) are holidaying about 50 kms away from Assisi at a health spa and I have arranged to rendevouz with them at the Perugia airport and they are going to accompany me (and my luggage) to Assisi. How’s that for serendipity?

We spend a few hours exploring Assisi (it’s steep cobblestone streets are filled with all manner of shops, many selling local pastries and sweets, icecreameries, art galleries, souvenier shops, cafes and and of course numerous churches, the main one being where the remains of St Francis are buried. We have lunch at a local restaurant Il Frantoio which has a panoramic view and then follow Ruth’s very accurate directions up to the road that leaves the top of Assisi and out of town for 4km until we turn left and follow a dirt track for another 1 km to the doors of “paradise”.

As we make our way along the track not really knowing what I will find, I joke with the guys about being prepared to rescue me if it turns out I have signed up to stay with a strange religious sect, but I needn’t have worried.

It’s hard to describe the beauty of this place. A two storey dwelling appears at the end of the dirt road. There’s a large patio with a table and chairs looking out to a garden filled with grape vines and fig trees, olives and roses, flowers and bird baths and figures of Mary, a Hindu God and statue of Buddhist all happily co-existing. Rather than be put off by the religious icons I am drawn to a place that is so inclusive and when I am warmly greeted by Ruth and escorted to my accommodation accompanied by the sound of the wind, birds, cicadas and wind chimes, all apprehension leaves me and I am grateful to be here.

My room is lovely, spacious and full of light, with a tiled floor, wood framed windows and warm tones and just a few well picked furnishings. From my bed, ahead of me and to my left I can look out to the green and silver leaves and part of the trunks of a number of the many trees that surround the property. The bathroom is large and has a tub and also has a green view across a valley. I can feel the peaceful energy of the place seeping into my body already.

Ruth leaves me to settle in and have a shower before the evening meditation session. I read about the daily schedule (a morning meditation program, including sitting and moving sessions, free afternoons and another evening meditation to finish the day) and that you are asked to give and receive the gift of silence while you are here. Your stay can be as structured or unstructured as you like, with personal time with Bruce or Ruth to discuss your objectives for the retreat and how you are going each day.

It is blissful to have a mindful shower. I feel the tiredness of the long drive and lack of sleep wash away as the the warm water courses over my body. I take my time, noticing the temperature of the water, the sound of it hitting the ground, the feel of the towel aginst my skin as I dry off and the scent of Bali (is it frangipani?) in the rich body cream that I rub slowly into my body.

There are 5 of us here on retreat at the same time, and I join them, Bruce and Ruth in the meditation room at 7pm.

The room is a tiled square room, with a door leading out into the garden. There are 13 lit candles of various sizes and some small vases with greenery and flowers in the centre of the room and along each wall are cushions and chairs for you to sit on. I find a spot and sit on the floor cross legged with my back against the wall. Even in this simple pose I find I am a bit uncomfortable with a pain in my right leg, kind of balancing up a soreness in my left arm. (I noticed an inexplicable whopping great blue/black bruise on the back of my left forearm a couple of weeks ago with a strange bone ache in the same arm, except I have no recollection of sustaining any actual injury. The only thing I can think of is that I fell against a wall one night on the way to the bathroom and can’t remember!)

Bruce briefly talks about the value of slowing down and the gift of silence and describes a simple meditation inspired by St Francis which can be practiced regardless of religion. It involves checking what is in your heart and “offering it up” which allows you to go deeper into your self.

When I walk outside later, the garden draws me. I sit and then lie down on the grass and look up into the darkening sky. I can make out a cloud and trace its movement across the sky. I feel my body connecting with the ground, sinking slightly into the earth and smell the grass that is cushioning me. I feel relaxed and calm and comfortable and happy. Seeing the first star shining above me is just a bonus.  

I wake up during the night and the rain has come. Safe and comfortable in my bed I listen for a while and then drift off again. When I wake up in the morning, it is still raining…

I discover the electricity is not working when I try to turn on the light amd wonder if I will have to have a cold shower, but luckily that does not eventuate, but breakfast is had by candlelight and it’s great to have to improvise and really experience slow food! The bread toasted over open flame and slightly burnt coffee tastes better for the process.

But it feels strange, almost rude not to chat to my next door neighbour.

While I understand and respect the idea of “giving the gift of silence”, it is quite hard to put into practice and get the balance right, talking when necessary but not extending to having social conversations. I realise how natural it is for me to  want to “get to know” and  “connect” with people when I meet them, how important it is for me to move beyond the superficial, to really see and understand the person in front of me.

What I know now is that it reflects my own need to be seen and understood, to be accepted “warts and all” (something I did not feel when I was growing up). To be “rejected” by someone who I thought had seen and understood me has been particularly painful, but this realisation, and the acceptance of it, not just intellectually but emotionally has been surprisingly liberating. We all have unconscious needs or fears that affect our behaviour and happiness. Slowing down, silence, being in nature and listening to our body, heart and mind can offer us important insights.

I have chosen to be silent in the past (once for 2 weeks on Rottnest Island) and wonder why it seems so much harder this time. Then I remember that the other times I was on my own. It is much harder being silent in company.

We meet Ruth at 11.30 for movement class. It is a series of 9 movements, a kind of qigong with the intention of evoking a state of connection and gratitude. It is a simple and enjoyable practice and I enjoy being outside in nature.

Time seems to be flying past. I read a book, walk around the property go with Bruce to a shop to buy provisions and before I know it we are sitting in the meditation room again for our evening session.

Day 2

I am finding it hard to relax into the retreat as I have made no firm plans for when I leave and am torn between letting the process be organic or organising things in advance. Not being able to make calls (no reception on my network) and encouraged not to use internet except for emergencies, I alternate between stressing (I need to call my friends who have offered to drive me to Rome, call another friend in Cyprus for his birthday and to work out when and where to see him, give my family a contact number in case of emergencies and decide whether to respond to emails or not) and being calm and relaxed.

It’s amazing how reliant I have become on technology (even though I really don’t use most social networking ) and how stressful it can be when it is not available. I usually respond quickly to emails but won’t be able to now until the retreat is over. In the end, I compromise and borrow a phone to make a call, and trust that the rest will fall into place.

Day 3

I have been walking and fantasizing about having a place like this. It’s not near the water but has so many other positive features. When I speak to Bruce later, I find out it is for sale (only 1.4million euros) so just a little over my budget ha ha! Then I imagine all sorts of other scenarios buying with family or friends (Barbara, I can imagine you here! Or John you could go mad with renovating or building your own villa as there are oodles of hectares or Marisa you could run a business from here ) We could all have a kind of tuscan hills change …It was a nice dream!

Day 4

Interesting incident with another resident who gets angry “ I’m trying to meditate” when another girl and I are talking sotto voce in the garden. I catch myself being just a tad judgmental, and hypocritical (after all we’ve just finished being “at one with every one and everything”!) Guess I’m still at the very human stage of this spiritual evolution.

I’ve decided to stay another week if there is space, but it is full. Later in the day there is a surprise cancellation and I have a room.

Glorious massage and bath and read a whole book. How come you can feel so tired doing nothing?

Snippets

Twice today I have found myself scraping mud, leaves and debris from the bottom of my shoes (they became heavier and heavier as more clay rich earth stuck to them as I walked around the property.)

It was a slow process getting it off as the gooey muck was stubbornly clinging to its new home.

I wonder how much muck and debris we pick up and carry with us through life without realising, that weighs us down, and how often we stop to even check.

                             ________________________________

The leaves on the trees outside my windows are being blown about and I rescue my shoes from outside as thick, slow rain drops slosh onto the patio, which puts paid to Nuccio and Mariella’s theory that if it is windy it does not rain!.

Thunder rolls in leisurely waves like a satisfyingly productive cough and occasionally a lightning strike brightens the grey sky. I am sipping hot water and lying on my bed writing on my computer, cosy and comfortable and all I can hear is the ticking clock, my fingers tapping on the computer keys, the thunder and the rain.

Just as well that a bell rings summoning us for morning meditation as I am engrossed in a book and I have lost track of time. It is 9am (very civilised) and I have been for a walk and had breakfast.

The meditation room is a tiled square room, with a door leading out into the garden. There are 13 lit candles of various sizes and some small vases with greenery and flowers in the centre of the room. It is a beautiful space and without planning I choose a spot that lets me look out through the glass door to the verdant view.

It is not my thing to be in a room with other people with my eyes closed. I want to be on my own, outside with my eyes open…maybe I just need to learn to be exactly where I am for for a while.

Talk soon

Mon x

Heading to the mountains...

I’ve only been going a short while on the autostrada towards Milan when a light appears on the dashboard of my near new Fiat 500 hire car.

It looks at first glance like the seat belt light so I remove my heavy bag from the front passenegr seat thinking that the “smart” technology has registered a person sitting there and the light is extinguished. A few minutes later there are 3 caution lights and I realise it is the airbag indicator. A few metres more and the whole dashboard lights up and messages flash and a warning indicators, but the clincher is that the speed indicator goes into cardiac arrest and then suddenly registers zero!

There’s no answer at Hertz and the SOS phone along the autostrada doesn’t work (glad it was not a real emergency!) but eventually a very long time later a tow truck comes to take me to who knows where.

It is probably not wise of the tow truck driver to greet me rudely (after I had been waiting for a very long time and had been given a very long run around by the people over the phone) and soon there is a right old shouting match going on on the side of that road!

However, (in typically Italian way), once we both calm down and see things from the others point of view, there is no rancour, we are good friends and he offers me coffee in his small office, until a taxi arrives to take me to Verona airport (a 130 euro taxi fare away) to pick up another car.

It took longer than expected, but finally I have reached my destination.

                             _________________________

It feels like the bells are singing me home.

It is 7am and I am on my way to San Patrizio, a sanctuary above the small town of Vertova in Val Seriana not far from Bergamo. I have come here for a few days before going to Assisi for my “meditation retreat” because I know that it is here that my Mum’s spirit will be, soaring high above the mountains that she loved so much. 

This place is filled with sadness for me; the energy of people with unfulfilled dreams and regret, small town pettiness, family secrets, scandals and tragedy and complex painful secrets and memories of my own, a young man I knew committing suicide, and another young woman’s life traumatised when she accidently killed a motorcylist.

And yet there are people here I love, with ready and unending hospitality and mountain spirit, tough souls with brittle exteriors and huge hearts.

And I know my Mum was really happy here, returning time and time again, reliving carefree childhood memories of getting into mischief, stealing fruit from the trees of an old priest and sneaking out at night to whizz down the steep roads on her bicycle. Here she regained the energy of her youth and was filled with a young person’s curiosity and dreams.

One particular memory would always make her happy. It was of walking or being carried by her beloved father to San Patrizio.

It is a beautiful morning as I walk up the steep track towards the sanctuary. Low cloud hangs in the space between the mountains and below me I can see the river snaking through the valley. I have the track to myself and am enjoying the blissful silence, broken only by the church bells when they ring. Somehow each time I pass a church (three so far) the bells have started ringing and they seem to be accompanying me on my walk.

I am reminded of one of my favourite books, “Songlines”, by Bruce Chatwin which comes closest to explaining (in the way I have since heard Aboriginal people themselves explain to me) the importance of and connection to land of Indigenous Australians.

I feel a strong spiritual connection to a number of places that I have spent some time in, most near the water or with a bird’s eye view. This place is not one of them and yet as I look up towards the sanctuary a strange thing happens. It is hard to put into words but the feeling and sensation was quite clear; a blurring of time and space and merging with an image of my mother and grandfather and a familiarity and sense of peace.

Another strange thing happened when I got there.

I was doing my qigong (just like this guy on youtube who does this crazy little dance all over the world, I have done my qigong in a whole lot of interesting places all over the world so now I can add a Roman Catholic sanctuary to my list) when I heard someone say “Sorry, but I have to lock up now”

Turns out that had I arrived a few minutes later I would not have been able to get in, and had he not seen me I would have been locked in for a week until the sanctuary was opened again! Interesting…

                             ____________________________________

17^th September 2011

This week has flown by with a series of unexpected happenings, curious coincidences and interesting connections (anyone interested ask me over a glass of red wine particularly about strange orbs on photos, dates on a tombstone, white butterflies, crystal therapy and people I didn’t know stopping me in the street)

I have returned to one of my ancetral homes and been able to look back on the past with fresh eyes. Some of the sadness that I felt here before has gone. Perhaps it was the beautiful weather or realising that some of the sadness was my own, but somehow gently tracing the sadness to its source has allowed it to disappear. 

People have told me their thoughts and fears and memories, many of them deeply touched by my mother’s love and loss.

I have laughed with old friends and made some new ones. I have visited Bergamo and sat in the elegant café Balzer where my grandparents used to meet and I have felt Mum’s spirit in the mountains she loved so much. Above all it was good to spend time in one of her favourite places (Val Vertova with its pretty waterfall). I wish I could have enjoyed it with her, but I guess in some ways I already have. 

Ansaet! (arrivederci in my Mum’s dialect)

I am now Assisi bound!

Mon x

I've arrived ...

The door to Mum's original family home

San Patrizio

The view down to Vertova

Mum's mountains

I was nearly stuck up there for a week!

Vertova from the main church

Val Vertova waterfall 

well signed hikes

worth the walk 

nature rules here!

 

   

La Serenissima

Venice ...arriving by ship

one of the many bridges

along the canal

can't wait to explore

main intersection

St Mark's square

La Serenissima (the serene one, as Venice is known) looks beautiful when seen from the decks of a cruise ship.

Perhaps she is not classically beautiful (some of her buildings are run down and damp and some of the water traffic is not attractive –after all everything including rubbish, building equipment, criminals and sick people has to be transported through her waterways) but somehow when all her features come together she is stunning, bathed in a misty light with her grand canal lined with magnificent old palaces, art galleries, grand hotels, restaurants and churches.

We have one night on board while we are in Venice, so I have booked a tour to Verona, home of Romeo and Juliet, the next day.

Verona is a lovely city with lots of shopping and history. The guided walking tour is well worth doing and includes Juliet’s famous balcony, (Oh Romeo, Romeo wherefore art thou Romeo?) We spend our free time having drinks and pizza and people watching in the main square.

Back on the ship for our last night on board, we enjoy yet another excellent meal, this time at the Pinnacles Grill where I go all out with Lobster and Crème Brulee!

The next morning all but 300 people disembark. The remaining passengers will be joined by about 1200 more to do another 12 days Mediterranean cruise taking in more of Croatia, Greece and Turkey!

Although I have really enjoyed the cruise, I am happy to be staying in Venice and am looking forward to exploring “la Serenissima”

From the port it is a short distance to Piazzale Roma on the “people mover” (1 euro) a hub of activity and the place where you can get all transport out of Venice (hire cars, buses, trains and taxis) and within Venice water taxis (very expensive-80 euros) and vaporettos (much cheaper and efficient like public buses 6.50 euros) as Venice itself is only accessible by boat and foot.

I catch a vaporetto towards San Marco to my hotel in Dorsoduro and get off at Accademia stop right near the bridge that takes you across the river a short walk to San Marco’s square.  (Viv and Hugh stay in the more up market Novecento in San Marco, a boutique hotel with really helpful staff)

Although the trip takes about 40 minutes it is a wonderful opportunity to see Venice by water as we go past the Rialto bridge and markets and the many little bridges and canals teeming with gondolas and people.

At almost every step, you risk being in someone’s photo as everyone is snap happy in a place that has a million photo opportunities.

Venice is always busy but particularly now during the Biennale when the city is full of actors, and dignitaries invited to the various film, music and art events throughout the city.

It is too early to book into my hotel www.agliablboretti.com so I leave my bags and go exploring.       

I manage to pack in a lot in my 2 days in Venice; an Opera (Verdi’s Traviata at the refurbished La Fenice Opera House – (Reuven, I was thinking of you. It was awesome!), numerous art exhibitions- some work by Ukranian Oksana Mas which looked like a giant mosaic but was actually a work made of thousands of coloured eggs, a photo and video project called180 by Catalan Artist Mabel Palacin where Venice is the subject and a fascinating 3D film by a Chinese Artist whose name sadly I can’t find.

We sampled some surprisingly good Venetian fare at Ai Artisti, an enoteca (wine bar) with a great local wine selection (Paul when you are in Venice check it out. You will need to book -0415238944 and Beccafico, a great restaurant in a lovely piazza in San Marco area where the Sicilian chef prepares the best and largest shared seafood antipasto I have ever eaten.

I rediscovered Aperol Spritzers –a prosecco based aperitif- that is great before dinner and is usually served with an orange segment and olives and managed to buy a couple of presents.

Waking up early and beating the crowds to San Marco to watch the sunset was worth the effort as was finding a couple of cute b and b’s in the Dorsoduro area with water views which allowed me to day dream about coming back in the off season one day to write or staying in one of the grand hotels with someone I love. 

I am just about to leave Venice and drive to the north of Italy to the small village of Vertova, my Mum’s home town. I’ve been ambivalent about going as it is a place with many sad memories, but somehow it feels right to go there now and I know that my Mum’s spirit will be there walking in her beloved mountains, so I put on my seatbelt and turn the key and the fiat 500 comes to life. Keep right! Keep right! I remind myself as I ease out of the parking space and soon I am zooming along the Autostrada towards Milan with the radio on and the window down and another adventure has begun.

A presto

Mon x

gondola stop

sunrise in Venice

a good time for cultural events

a night at the opera

street art

La Fenice

view from my seat

piazza to myself before the crowds

mosaic with eggs

Vivaldi concert 

the bridge of sighs

Murano glassware

before peak period traffic

seafood antipasto Sicilian style

Mon's walking tour

Venice fashion

St Mark's square

Venice spirit

Rialto bridge