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PEOPLE WATCHING

Santa Margherita Ligure is the perfect place if you enjoy people-watching. Find a bench on the front promenade, and your entertainment is set for the evening.

Tonight, however, I spotted a full story. Of course, I present this to you as fact…which I’m sure it probably is…

HisNibs and I were enjoying our last evening meal before heading to Pisa tomorrow (a lovely meal too!), when two new diners were seated at the table next to us. Nothing wrong with that - nothing worse than eating in an empty restaurant - but I immediately knew, just knew their back story.

Let me introduce you to Mr Smiley. He’s the guy…well, he’s the smiley-face guy. Rather large guy, with a rather damp linen shirt, pale, blue eyes. Must have strong arms to be able to move the enormous (solid) gold watch dripping from his wrist. As you can see, he’s helping himself to the bottle from the ice bucket. Believe me, this was not your average house white!

His companion? Signor Vespa. His scooter helmet is on the chair next to him. He’s a beautiful…& I mean beautiful young Italian, hanging off every word that drops from Mr Smiley’s too-full lips.

Should I be speculating as to the nature of their relationship? Probably not. They may very well be long lost brothers. But…unlikely.

Mr Smiley is a multi-millionaire who made his money from speculating on questionable mining ventures in the remotest of remote Russian mountains. He’s left his ruthless henchmen in charge of the penniless slaves, while he has his yacht bring him to Santa Margherita Ligure in search of some poor Italian boy, who needs to sell his beautiful body to save his poor old Nonna from destitution.

At least, he managed to get a good meal and a pretty darn good bottle of wine out of the deal.

Now, which is Mr Smiley’s yacht?

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Let me introduce you to poolside on the sun terrace at our hotel.

It’s not a big area, probably 16 sun beds and a couple of tables and chairs. Lovely view of the harbour. Plenty of sunshades and a small pool to cool off in. We’ve had a very relaxing morning, as there was just a single German lady and us for an hour or two.

Now, let me introduce the other characters who have arrived.

There’s an English guy, who faffs even more than HisNibs. He’s back and fore to his room every few minutes getting various medications, etc for his wife and who knows what else. He is clearly a builder by the way he wears his shorts. I really don’t need to see that!

His wife - Irish. Has complained every day about how ill she is, coughs and coughs and coughs. (We’ve moved upwind of her.) Then she lights up a cigarette. Who knew that would help?!

Their (his?) daughter who appears late morning after being out all night. Fair play to her!

Today, we have a new group…Team America. (One of the guys does have a t-shirt that says Team America 🇺🇸) I’m guessing that they’re used to communicating across vast plains, as they have to shout at everyone.

“DO YOU WANT A POPSICLE?”

“DON’T GIVE MY DAUGHTER SODA!”

“BRING ME SOME CHIPS!”

“I’LL GET THE FLOATY.” (This floaty might actually fill the whole pool.)

The one thing I haven’t seen yet is a MAGA hat…but there’s time.

They’ve rearranged the whole area, beds and umbrellas…although being British, we are genetically averse to changing things for our comfort.

Ah, I have to say, I’ve lost track of my book. This place is far too entertaining 😂

HisNibs, however, has gone for his ear buds. Probably for the best…

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BE MORE ITALIAN

What does that mean? Drink more coffee? Gesticulate when talking? Develop the shrug? No, none of these (although each has its own merit). No. What I mean is that we should take on their acceptance of who they are and what they look like.

This is by no means a body-shaming exercise. After all, people in glass houses etc..!

Sestri Levante is definitely an Italian holiday destination, and every one of those holiday makers were comfortable in their own skin. There were, of course, the long-legged, toned, bronzed goddesses (& gods), happy to wander down the main street semi-naked, while nobody batted an eyelid (except, perhaps, HisNibs!).

However, there were plenty more “real” bodies on show by the pool. There were Mum-bods, a few stretch marks and saggy bellies but plenty of love, time and attention for their children. There were post-menopausal women, overweight and struggling with the heat. There were skeletal, osteoporotic octogenarians.

What did they all have in common? Not a single one of them were self-conscious about their bodies. They OWNED those bikinis. They sat wherever and however they were comfortable, and they chatted to each other without the judgemental glances that I’ve seen elsewhere.

How refreshing. Certainly gives you pause for thought. Perhaps it’s time I stood a bit taller, stopped covering my wobbly belly and enjoyed myself.

Yesterday, we moved from Sestri Levante to Santa Margherita Ligure, near Portofino. No italian holiday makers here. Mostly Germans, American, French…& all “beautiful people”! Ah well… sono qui!

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TO CARRARA, ITS MOUNTAINS AND ITS WOMEN

Ever since I watched Charlton Heston looking for inspiration in The Agony & The Ecstasy, I’ve been fascinated by the mountains and the marble of Carrara. There’s always been something mystical about it, but as I found out yesterday, there is so much more to this town near the coast of NW Italy.

We took a train from Sestri Levante to Carrara, to spend the day with some good friends who happen to live there. (Katherine gave me & continues to give so much help with my writing. If you haven’t read her latest book, The Maiden of Florence, you really must. A true #metoo story of the 16th C.) But I digress…

They entertained us in a delightful restaurant on the Massa coast, then took us on a drive through those magnificent mountains. The blue/grey marble has been mined here for centuries. The Romans called it Luna marble. Sadly, as with any natural resource, it is dwindling, and there is estimated to be only around 100 years of marble remaining.

Of course, I had to come home with a souvenir, so we stopped at a workshop way off the tourist trail. I chose a mini pestle and mortar. There is only so much marble you can take on an EasyJet flight!

Back in the town, Katherine and her husband Carmine took us around the side streets and main sights. They are so knowledgeable about the history of the area. I only picked up a fraction of the information they shared, but what a place!

Their cathedral (Duomo) is like no other that I’ve seen in Italy. No decoration - just plain stone - but so striking!

It also boasts a lovely fresco, which is hidden behind a hinged painting.

Dating back to the quarry workers of centuries past, there developed an anarchic mindset, which has carried through to today. The International Federation of Anarchists was founded here in 1968, and there are signs of this in the graffiti around the town.

The story that fascinated me was that of Francesca Rolla and the women of Carrara, who stood up to the occupying German troops in July 1944. Under threat of execution, they gathered in the square and refused to leave their town. Against these women, the Germans relented. Francesca is immortalised in a large fresco in the piazza.

Oh, that we would all be as brave as these Carrarese women!

A fascinating place that I need to learn more about, and a lovely day with lovely people.

Today…back to the pool!

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EVERY DAY, DO SOMETHING THAT SCARES YOU!

Well, I can tick that off today. It’s pretty well known that I’m not a fan of heights, something I only discovered a few years ago, ascending the Eiffel Tower. I was very happy to descend, I can tell you!

Today, we hopped on a train (I use the term lightly - I rarely hop anywhere!) and headed up the coast to Rapallo. The Rapallo Funicular to the hilltop town of Montallegro was recommended to us. “Spectacular views,” she said.

We hopped (stumbled) off the train, and I started to navigate the walk. “Only 5 minutes, according to Google maps!” Well, I think my personal GPS must be faulty, because we walked 10 minutes in the opposite direction. Oops!

We arrived 10 minutes before the next cable car was due to leave, bought our tickets and waited in line with our fellow funiculists. (No, I have no idea if that’s a real word.)

We boarded the car with a family of Americans and a family of Germans, and as we ascended the mountain, I knew my biggest challenge would be to stop HisNibs humming the theme from “Where Eagles Dare”! At least it distracted me from the terror of leaving terra firma and dangling in a little metal box from a little metal wire.

No, it didn’t! Did you know that your knuckles really can turn white?

We got off at the top to a lovely cool breeze. Actually, it was more of…well, cloud. We were in a cloud. Those spectacular views? Nope, nada, niente!

There was a beautiful church at the top of the hill (more steps and hills), and I did go in to give thanks for making it to the top without hyperventilating, passing out or dying. I also added a couple more prayers in the hope that I would also make it safely down the mountain. They were answered!

Coming down was probably more terrifying, as you come over the brow of the hill (mountain) and you see the whole town below you…a long way below you. But we made it, and I did it (without too much fuss), so I’m pretty chuffed with that.

I let HisNibs direct us back to the train station, which he did very efficiently, and smugly, I might add.

Was it worth it? Yes definitely, and I’m so glad we did it. Rapallo is another pretty town, so if you get chance to explore, add it to your list, not forgetting a trip up the mountainside.

Now…una birra, per favore!

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BRITS ABROAD

Buongiorno, tutti!

Welcome to our 2 weeks of Ligurian Laziness. If you’re reading this, I hope you enjoy tagging along. Don’t expect in-depth analysis of geography, geology, history and culture. I don’t think my brain can manage that yet…but you never know!

As you know, I lost my lovely mum a few weeks ago, and it’s been a tough time since then, but now, HisNibs and I are in need of some R&R. So, here we are in Sestri Levante on the Ligurian coast.

We’re in a lovely hotel situated between two beaches/seas, hence the name Hotel Due Mari. One side has a quiet beach on the Bay of Silence. The other has sun beds and brollies regimented for the length of the beach. We’ll stay mostly by the saltwater pool, which is lovely and quiet. The gentle piano music is helping the relaxation begin. (It’s a tough process for me!)

Anyway, scene set. I called this post “Brits Abroad”, and I know what you’re thinking. Groups of twenty-somethings, flashing flesh, swigging lager and being loud and obnoxious.

No, no, no, no, no! There is something worse. I’m talking about a group of seventy-somethings (about 30 of them) at the breakfast buffet. Generally loud (because many of them were deaf) and demanding.

“I want (not please may I have) an omelette. Ham. Pepper. NO CHEESE!”

“I need to get to the cheese platter.” (Don’t mind me, I was only waiting to get there too!)

Their tour guide was just as obnoxious, telling off his assistant (a small, quiet Indian man) for something he hadn’t done. Loudly. In front of his clients. In front of the whole restaurant. 0 stars from me!

I managed to avoid indigestion and have come to the pool to slow my breathing and practise my mindfulness.

Weather is lovely today. A gentle breeze, a little cloud but warm enough to lie on a sun bed and frazzle! 🤦‍♀️

A domani, amici 😊