Typical of the hourglass indicator passage of time, the sand seems to flow faster. We are reminded now of things we wish to do before we are gone on April 1, as it is the next marker. We plan to attend a soccer/futball game in Genoa on the 14th. We hope to go to Bettola on the 15th, in the sweet town between the mountains in Emilia Romagna, where our grandfather’s family had lived for a bit of time – about a hundred years before their almost total family immigrated to the US. We also have a concert to go to, perhaps an antique street market to still wander (and wonder), and we each still have some quiet work time with deadlines.
But this week, we acted like celebrities by going to the eastern Riviera towns that will soon be loaded with tourists. (Portofino, Santa Margherita Ligure, Rapallo) Along the coast are several deep port inlets, and at each inlet, a little village grew that just happened to be overrun with tourists seeking this particular beauty over the past hundred years or more. We arrived pre-season, which was like any other off-season. People were hammering, painting, drilling, and fixing “stuff” below streets with the feel of “get it done now.” A sense of some urgency, perhaps.
Chiavari, too, in Piazza Roca, is working on roads, actually the infrastructure below them, with stones piled up nearby to reposition as soon as the work is finished. Flowers are poking out of newly placed baskets, and public places are looking a bit brighter as the weather hums with promise. Mimosas are in bloom – I can’t say that I remember ever seeing them before – incredible, bright balls of yellow. So cheery.
We took the train to Rapallo, which is lovely. I vaguely remember it as an English expat place for writers some hundred years ago. This hilltop shrine is built as all good shrines probably are, from the apparition of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who commanded them to make a church. They did, and it is lovely both inside and out. I even got to the gift shop.
Some questions remain for me — don’t shoot the questioner here, good folks — but I am unaware of many apparitions that are not the Blessed Mother dressed in blue. One is in Brazil — one. So why, I asked, don’t the rest of the holy group get to make apparitions? I have no answer; I am just thinking here in print.
I tripped and almost fell on my keister while we were out walking, and three young boys – about 14, I think, dashed over, and all of them kept up their worry about me with the most polite and kind kid response I’ve ever seen. It made my day. We chatted with them and practiced our most basic bilingualism together. We order food sometimes, and because we don’t know what a thing is for sure until we get it, we stare at the plate, thinking, “That is what I ordered?” We get to have those extraordinary encounters on an ordinary day. Though it is not a big deal, it is the stuff of a day that reminds us that we live and coexist and can have a ball doing it.
Culturally – let me tell you about Chiavari. It seems mostly Italian, with a smattering of people of color. Also, a few Africans stand out a bit by their garb and trinkets, some Middle Easterners stand out with their female heads covered, and a few South Americans that I suspect are Peruvians. I hear more than a few are Chinese. They seem to dominate the stores that face the sea promenade, and – Italian is spoken by everyone from everywhere, although in groups, they speak their own languages. How do those people start stores and manage so well with the language? I do not know. But they do, and they flourish. I have never felt fear of violence or seen ugly behavior, and so it has been a calm trip with little stress. I don’t look for fights, though we hope to attend that soccer match this next week. I was told that Italians treat war like a game, and treat soccer (Football) like war, so it should be interesting.
I’m working on the third book I wrote. One is in editing, another is ready to go to editing, and the third is a book I’ve not looked at in two or three years. As I do this, I can see how my writing has changed. I think that the time spent here has been worthwhile. When we have to leave, I will feel it has been a success if I have them all ready and in the professional editing tunnel.
It is with sadness that I tell you we’ve not had but one, gelato this whole time. Another note to the considerations of time. One gelato the entire time we’ve been here! Is that even possible? One of the great joys has been that we could get sugar-free gelato in a few places. For now, however, none exists. Where – where have they gone? (small tear in the eye here…)
Like lemmings, we rush to the sea on sunny days, walking and feeling like the luckiest people on earth, lord and lady of the manor. And it sparkles and shimmers and I listen to the incoming and outgoing of the breath of life, and feel at peace.