Tuesday, December 4, 2012
sunny morning in calcarole
Monday, December 3, 2012
flying through the air........
Have had another adventure - of a painful nature- when a dog attacked my scooter, causing me to fly off over the handles and land on my face. I was wearing my helmet , as always, but as I sat up my nose bled like 2 fountains. If I hadn't been worried about having ruined whatever looks I had I would have been more fascinated by the way my nose could bleed. My foot was stuck under the scooter but I managed to yank it out - all the while saying to myself - I cant find a hanky, where is my hanky. I staggered to my feet while the blood sprayed out my nostrils and manged to get my scooter upright and push it into the side and park it. There was no one around so I got out my phone and trying to avoid the blood managed to phone my partner and mumble enough to make him get in the car and come down to find me. He didnt really understand my mumblings and was apparently horrified when he arrived and I stood covered in blood and looking a bit bemused. (I have never been someone who panicked - so far at least- which is not neccessarily a good thing!)
So after deciding to use my scarf as a hanky we set off in the car for the hospital - only to realise part way along the road that I had left my handbag in the scooter box - at which point I did consider panicking as all my stuff including nasal spray and passport were in it. So we went back for it. By this time my nose was only bleeding copiously. What a relief!
It only took about 15 minutes to reach the hospital at Tinchi. (The same place I went to when I got stung on the throat.)
I staggered into the waiting room and not surprisingly was seen straight away. It was such a relief to arrive and the staff there are not only professional but so kind and friendly and soon had me on a bed and checked me over. It looked like I was more or less in one piece and had probably not broken my nose and my teeth appeared to still be stuck in. I had a big scrape on one knee and various bruises and small cuts but basically my bleeding nose - which didn't stop bleeding for over 7 hours - was really the worst thing.
I was at the hospital for about an hour and was given some sort of drug through a drip and then left gratefully to go back to the country house. Where I have been ever since.
When I left the hospital , apart from the bleeding nose I looked relatively normal but by the next morning I looked like a piebald chipmunk. I ached a bit but actually having a practically blocked nose bothered me much more. And I think the drugs also made me feel a little queasy.
And my er good looks only got worse over the next few days. I turned black and blue and red and green and yellow all over my face. (I was so lucky that only my lip was cut and I had no scrapes on my face.)
So is now a week since all this happened and I am getting better every day. I still cant eat normally and I have not taken my face out anywhere incase it scares little children.
Am assuming that in another week I should be more or less back to normal. I have been and started my scooter, cleaned off the blood and am arranging for it to get checked over in the next few days.
I have sort of enjoyed relaxing (once my nose got unblocked) and actually started a little painting of a big vase of flowers today.
And I have no idea what happened to the dog.
So after deciding to use my scarf as a hanky we set off in the car for the hospital - only to realise part way along the road that I had left my handbag in the scooter box - at which point I did consider panicking as all my stuff including nasal spray and passport were in it. So we went back for it. By this time my nose was only bleeding copiously. What a relief!
It only took about 15 minutes to reach the hospital at Tinchi. (The same place I went to when I got stung on the throat.)
I staggered into the waiting room and not surprisingly was seen straight away. It was such a relief to arrive and the staff there are not only professional but so kind and friendly and soon had me on a bed and checked me over. It looked like I was more or less in one piece and had probably not broken my nose and my teeth appeared to still be stuck in. I had a big scrape on one knee and various bruises and small cuts but basically my bleeding nose - which didn't stop bleeding for over 7 hours - was really the worst thing.
I was at the hospital for about an hour and was given some sort of drug through a drip and then left gratefully to go back to the country house. Where I have been ever since.
When I left the hospital , apart from the bleeding nose I looked relatively normal but by the next morning I looked like a piebald chipmunk. I ached a bit but actually having a practically blocked nose bothered me much more. And I think the drugs also made me feel a little queasy.
And my er good looks only got worse over the next few days. I turned black and blue and red and green and yellow all over my face. (I was so lucky that only my lip was cut and I had no scrapes on my face.)
So is now a week since all this happened and I am getting better every day. I still cant eat normally and I have not taken my face out anywhere incase it scares little children.
Am assuming that in another week I should be more or less back to normal. I have been and started my scooter, cleaned off the blood and am arranging for it to get checked over in the next few days.
And I have no idea what happened to the dog.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Lingerie and Seduction
Sunday morning,Crawl out of bed at 5am . Do 3 minutes of yoga , grab slice of toast and as many layers of clothes as possible as the weather could be cold.
It's not yet light and we are on the road to Taranto. It's surprising how many other people are up so early as well.
Arriving at Taranto it's neccessary to limit breathing for the first kilometre as there is a chemical plant which looks like something from a nightmare future - and it stinks.
After that I like the city. First we pass the old part where the houses are tall, lean in towards each other and are mostly run down. If you go for a walk through them, as I have done when the market was there previously , its like stepping back in time and a little scary.
On the other side of the road in contrast there are hundreds of boats tied up. Not fishing boats - we will see them on the way home- but pleasure boats, small yachts - expensive looking speedboats etc.
On round the corner and the sea is on our right and the buildings on the left grow more imposing, though only a few metres in are the scary slummy ones.
On we go over the bridge , past the fort looking out to sea and we are into the newer smarter part of Taranto .Very imposing buildings on the left with enormous doorways, restaurants, banks and on the other side of the road a large tree lined promenade going on as far as we can see.
About half way along this road we turn off and head inwards to the piazza Immacolata also known as Piazza with Palms.
We turn up the road and there is always a moment when we wonder - have we got the right day, is it on and where are the other stallholders. (It has happened that we have gone on the wrong day and another time that it had been moved- once to another town and once to another piazza.)
But everything is ok today. The weather is fine and there are other stallholders setting up and plenty of room to park and unload.
Setting up the stand is like making up your own little shop. My part of it is only an add on but the antiques part looks very appealing and artistic when it's done. I think the 2 parts compliment each other.
So by 8am we are having a coffee and chocolate cornetto - sitting in the (limited) sunshine and ready for lots of sales. Ever hopeful!
We sit and watch as other stall holders unload goods from cars, ape's, vans and camper vans. You can buy an enormous variety of things at an Italian antiques market. There are also about 40% of the stallholders selling handmade crafts.
Several of us sell paintings but only me and Letizia sell our own.
After two or three hours I am bored. Although I only take paintings of Taranto and Martina Franca I was getting a fair amount of people stopping and looking ,but no sales.
I decide a walk is in order.
The piazza is part of a shopping street and I set off window shopping. Some shops however are open and I remember a year ago going into one of the larger department stores and being surprised by a sign pointing to the department of Lingerie and Seduction. I was a little to shy to go have a look then , but now I determined to see what is on offer. I am not exactly sure what to expect, but I am disappointed. I think maybe I thought it was going to be an Italian "Anne Summers" . It is however a pretty boring underwear selection with nothing very notably seductive in my opinion and nobody offering advice on seducing ......in fact it is so boring I go straight through and into the christmas decoration part and find some cute unsexy teddy bears.
Further along the street I stop to take photos of a pink and white building that looks like someone had a lot of fun decorating. It reminds me off a cake with decorations. (In a nice way.)
On the way back I see two shops selling military or naval uniforms. I had always assumed that if you were in the navy or army you get provided with a uniform. It amuses me to think that perhaps these are designer uniforms for the more fashion conscious Italians.
Once more back at the stall I can see a lot of people in uniforms at the end of the street and soon we are entertained by a brass band marching past and then performing in the piazza.
By then there are lots of people about and just sitting watching people go by is an entertainment in itself.
Eventually it is lunch time and we have a carry out chinese - the second time in 8 years.
And then it is packing up time. It takes about one and a half hours and invariably looks like all the stuff will never fit into the car. (It has been a close thing once or twice.)
On the way out we pass the harbour with falling down tenements on one side and fishing boats tied up on the other. It doesn't look like a very safe place to walk but with a beautiful blue sky even gaping windows and washing look picturesque. I always want to stop , but we never do.
It's not yet light and we are on the road to Taranto. It's surprising how many other people are up so early as well.
Arriving at Taranto it's neccessary to limit breathing for the first kilometre as there is a chemical plant which looks like something from a nightmare future - and it stinks.
After that I like the city. First we pass the old part where the houses are tall, lean in towards each other and are mostly run down. If you go for a walk through them, as I have done when the market was there previously , its like stepping back in time and a little scary.
On the other side of the road in contrast there are hundreds of boats tied up. Not fishing boats - we will see them on the way home- but pleasure boats, small yachts - expensive looking speedboats etc.
On round the corner and the sea is on our right and the buildings on the left grow more imposing, though only a few metres in are the scary slummy ones.
On we go over the bridge , past the fort looking out to sea and we are into the newer smarter part of Taranto .Very imposing buildings on the left with enormous doorways, restaurants, banks and on the other side of the road a large tree lined promenade going on as far as we can see.
About half way along this road we turn off and head inwards to the piazza Immacolata also known as Piazza with Palms.
We turn up the road and there is always a moment when we wonder - have we got the right day, is it on and where are the other stallholders. (It has happened that we have gone on the wrong day and another time that it had been moved- once to another town and once to another piazza.)
But everything is ok today. The weather is fine and there are other stallholders setting up and plenty of room to park and unload.
Setting up the stand is like making up your own little shop. My part of it is only an add on but the antiques part looks very appealing and artistic when it's done. I think the 2 parts compliment each other.
So by 8am we are having a coffee and chocolate cornetto - sitting in the (limited) sunshine and ready for lots of sales. Ever hopeful!
We sit and watch as other stall holders unload goods from cars, ape's, vans and camper vans. You can buy an enormous variety of things at an Italian antiques market. There are also about 40% of the stallholders selling handmade crafts.
Several of us sell paintings but only me and Letizia sell our own.
After two or three hours I am bored. Although I only take paintings of Taranto and Martina Franca I was getting a fair amount of people stopping and looking ,but no sales.
I decide a walk is in order.
The piazza is part of a shopping street and I set off window shopping. Some shops however are open and I remember a year ago going into one of the larger department stores and being surprised by a sign pointing to the department of Lingerie and Seduction. I was a little to shy to go have a look then , but now I determined to see what is on offer. I am not exactly sure what to expect, but I am disappointed. I think maybe I thought it was going to be an Italian "Anne Summers" . It is however a pretty boring underwear selection with nothing very notably seductive in my opinion and nobody offering advice on seducing ......in fact it is so boring I go straight through and into the christmas decoration part and find some cute unsexy teddy bears.
Further along the street I stop to take photos of a pink and white building that looks like someone had a lot of fun decorating. It reminds me off a cake with decorations. (In a nice way.)
On the way back I see two shops selling military or naval uniforms. I had always assumed that if you were in the navy or army you get provided with a uniform. It amuses me to think that perhaps these are designer uniforms for the more fashion conscious Italians.
Once more back at the stall I can see a lot of people in uniforms at the end of the street and soon we are entertained by a brass band marching past and then performing in the piazza.
By then there are lots of people about and just sitting watching people go by is an entertainment in itself.
Eventually it is lunch time and we have a carry out chinese - the second time in 8 years.
And then it is packing up time. It takes about one and a half hours and invariably looks like all the stuff will never fit into the car. (It has been a close thing once or twice.)
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Back In Pisticci
I have only been back a week and been busy catching up, tidying up and trying to finish a very large( for me) portrait of four people , but I still managed to get out for coffee and take photos. Also been getting my studio set up for colder weather - found the rugs under a bed and spread them about, tested the gas heater, found my hat, hung up the blanket in the doorway and moved my internet connection to the small room at the back..Have two more portraits to get started on from Monday so am nicely busy.
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So just posting photos today. Will get back to writing about life here when I get back into it.(Soon!)
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| sad reminder of summer and my exhibition. |
Monday, October 8, 2012
My Very Exciting day
As distinct from my many other quite exciting days.........
Got up this morning quite anxious and a little excited as a new grandchild was due to be born today. I rushed up to my studio as I have the internet, a "real" phone and better mobile reception here and I didnt want to miss hearing about the great event. I didnt have long to wait until I got the phone call and I have a new granddaughter called Mila sofia. That means my son is a father - it doesnt seem that long ago that he was my little boy and now he has a daughter!
Moving swiftly on before I get maudlin and feel very very old.
That was only the beginning of my very exciting day.
I had arranged to go for lunch at a friends house near Bernalda so set off in a great mood and was soon whizzing along- then slowing down as I reached 60kph - and then whizzing along again, up and down the hills, windy roads, blind corners when all of a sudden WHAM - a wasp hit me in the throat and stung me. I slowed down and stopped as, I was on a straight bit of road , and by looking in the mirror I could see where I had been stung - right on the middle of my throat. It hurt quite a bit. I have been stung by a wasp on my scooter before but never there. I started to imagine it swelling up and not being able to swallow and then not being able to breathe. Naturally I was quite calm while all this was crossing my mind!!
I was in the middle of the countryside on my own - and memories of a friend who had not previously been allergic to wasp stings but had swollen up all over and spent 4 days in hospital after being stung - were bothering me.
So I decided to take my self to Casualty (Pronto soccorso) at the local hospital which was only 15 minutes away. I reasoned that however unlikely, it would be very selfish of me to swell up and die on my granddaughters birthday. So I sped off in the direction of the hospital trying not to imagine that my throat was swelling more by the minute and wondering if I would be found in time if I fell off my scooter cause I couldnt breathe. There was very little traffic on that particular road. But I reached the hospital, parked my scooter and sidled into the hospital. The sting hurt and my throat felt a bit numb but I was definitely still breathing and swallowing. I didnt have to wait long and I figured if I stopped breathing they would see me straight away.
I think they were reasonably entertained and very pleasant . I did mention my friend who had spent 4 days in the same hospital and I think I explained myself as well as possible especially when I mimed gasping for air.
I thanked the staff very much departed in slightly embarassed fashion, and hope that I brightened up their day
Relieved that it didnt look as if I was going to swell up I set off again feeling quite proud of myself for having been reasonably sensible. If I had been allergic and swollen up in the middle of the countryside with no one around I would have felt pretty silly.
So I zoomed off, thinking, "must wear scarf on scooter".
As I reached Bernalda I thought I was wobbling about a bit going round corners, but put it down to too much excitement. However in the middle of town I went round a corner and nearly came off the scooter as the back wheel started to slide out from under me. I pulled into the side slightly shaken and sure enough I had a puncture.
I don't know Bernalda that well. I don't know the word for puncture either. But since I came to Italy I have almost always found people very helpful. So I went into the nearest open gate which led into a DIY yard and asked if they could help. I was not completely successful as they explained where I could get my tyre repaired but seemed to be at the other side of town and I wasnt sure that I could ride my scooter with a completely flat tyre. So I thanked them and walked back out. I decided I would need to phone my friend again (was already late after being at the hospital ) and see if she could help. Just as I was saying "Guess what happened now....." a young man came out of the yard on a scooter and said follow me. I decided that I could at least try to see if I could move and managed to follow him very slowly and scarily to the other side of town. That was almost as frightening as thinking I was going to swell up. My scooter wobbled like crazy at the back and I kept it upright more by luck than anything else.
It didn't take long to replace both tyre and inner tube. (And cost less than I expected) And I set off again. Just as I was turning into my friend's drive way a car coming out stopped, a man rolled down his window and stuck his hand out to shake , saying he was ....... ...... and was one of my friends on facebook. He then wished me a good day and drove off. I found that very funny for no particular reason.
I arrived only one and a half hours late , but in a very good mood.
After having a gorgeous lunch, a serious coffee and a totally inspiring chat about life and art I left and had a very uneventful trip back to Pisticci.
Now I am planning to hang a large mirror which I bought at the antiques market yesterday and then I may go home for a peaceful evening.
Got up this morning quite anxious and a little excited as a new grandchild was due to be born today. I rushed up to my studio as I have the internet, a "real" phone and better mobile reception here and I didnt want to miss hearing about the great event. I didnt have long to wait until I got the phone call and I have a new granddaughter called Mila sofia. That means my son is a father - it doesnt seem that long ago that he was my little boy and now he has a daughter!
Moving swiftly on before I get maudlin and feel very very old.
That was only the beginning of my very exciting day.
I had arranged to go for lunch at a friends house near Bernalda so set off in a great mood and was soon whizzing along- then slowing down as I reached 60kph - and then whizzing along again, up and down the hills, windy roads, blind corners when all of a sudden WHAM - a wasp hit me in the throat and stung me. I slowed down and stopped as, I was on a straight bit of road , and by looking in the mirror I could see where I had been stung - right on the middle of my throat. It hurt quite a bit. I have been stung by a wasp on my scooter before but never there. I started to imagine it swelling up and not being able to swallow and then not being able to breathe. Naturally I was quite calm while all this was crossing my mind!!
I was in the middle of the countryside on my own - and memories of a friend who had not previously been allergic to wasp stings but had swollen up all over and spent 4 days in hospital after being stung - were bothering me.
So I decided to take my self to Casualty (Pronto soccorso) at the local hospital which was only 15 minutes away. I reasoned that however unlikely, it would be very selfish of me to swell up and die on my granddaughters birthday. So I sped off in the direction of the hospital trying not to imagine that my throat was swelling more by the minute and wondering if I would be found in time if I fell off my scooter cause I couldnt breathe. There was very little traffic on that particular road. But I reached the hospital, parked my scooter and sidled into the hospital. The sting hurt and my throat felt a bit numb but I was definitely still breathing and swallowing. I didnt have to wait long and I figured if I stopped breathing they would see me straight away.
I think they were reasonably entertained and very pleasant . I did mention my friend who had spent 4 days in the same hospital and I think I explained myself as well as possible especially when I mimed gasping for air.
I thanked the staff very much departed in slightly embarassed fashion, and hope that I brightened up their day
Relieved that it didnt look as if I was going to swell up I set off again feeling quite proud of myself for having been reasonably sensible. If I had been allergic and swollen up in the middle of the countryside with no one around I would have felt pretty silly.
So I zoomed off, thinking, "must wear scarf on scooter".
As I reached Bernalda I thought I was wobbling about a bit going round corners, but put it down to too much excitement. However in the middle of town I went round a corner and nearly came off the scooter as the back wheel started to slide out from under me. I pulled into the side slightly shaken and sure enough I had a puncture.
I don't know Bernalda that well. I don't know the word for puncture either. But since I came to Italy I have almost always found people very helpful. So I went into the nearest open gate which led into a DIY yard and asked if they could help. I was not completely successful as they explained where I could get my tyre repaired but seemed to be at the other side of town and I wasnt sure that I could ride my scooter with a completely flat tyre. So I thanked them and walked back out. I decided I would need to phone my friend again (was already late after being at the hospital ) and see if she could help. Just as I was saying "Guess what happened now....." a young man came out of the yard on a scooter and said follow me. I decided that I could at least try to see if I could move and managed to follow him very slowly and scarily to the other side of town. That was almost as frightening as thinking I was going to swell up. My scooter wobbled like crazy at the back and I kept it upright more by luck than anything else.
It didn't take long to replace both tyre and inner tube. (And cost less than I expected) And I set off again. Just as I was turning into my friend's drive way a car coming out stopped, a man rolled down his window and stuck his hand out to shake , saying he was ....... ...... and was one of my friends on facebook. He then wished me a good day and drove off. I found that very funny for no particular reason.
I arrived only one and a half hours late , but in a very good mood.
After having a gorgeous lunch, a serious coffee and a totally inspiring chat about life and art I left and had a very uneventful trip back to Pisticci.
Now I am planning to hang a large mirror which I bought at the antiques market yesterday and then I may go home for a peaceful evening.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Another little adventure and the secret of happiness.
Most Thurday mornings I go for a walk in Pisticci with a friend. The purpose being to spend some time together, explore Pisticci, practise our Italian, enjoy a coffee, and get some exercise.
Today was beautiful. Not too hot for walking, but hot enough to wear sandals and no need for a jacket.
We usually start off from my studio and taking our time and saying "Buon Giorno" to virutally everyone we meet , we stroll through Dirupo on the way into town.
At this time of year the light is fantastic and today the blue skies and tiled roofs, the white houses and the geraniums were so picturesque that we were obliged to stop every few yards to take another photo or chat to the man on the red scooter or take a detour up a narrow set of steps and then wonder if we had walked into someone's backyard. Even the washing blowing in the breeze looked pretty.
We could see the sea in the distance looking silvery in the sun and the mountains almost as blue as the sky. Am still wondering who lives in the tall house with the blue shutters. It rises up higher than any other building in Dirupo and used to be a bit of an eyesore before someone painted it and made it look pretty. I have heard that an artist lives there! We had all the time we liked to wonder and look about us.
We wind our way out of the narrow streets and then my friend stops to look at a woman putting something out to dry. She asks what it is - it's dried peppers- they are like crisps. She invites us in and shows us how she has made them, they are dried in the sun, and then apologises for not having many she could give us. While she is wrapping some up a neighbour pops her head in and says that she has plenty so we have to go to her house and get some more. We go into the next house and it is breathtakingly beautiful. From outside it looks like an ordinarily pretty Pisticci house but inside it has curved brick ceilings and goes on back into a sort of bricked cellar. It is like going back in time. I love this kind of building. To actually live in a house like this would be dream for me, but presumably it is normal here.
While she was putting some more dried peppers and tomatoes into a bag the owner said I could take photos. I did, but they don't really show what it was like.
Coming back into the sunshine in the street again, we thanked both ladies profusely .(Rosa and Grazia) and headed onwards and upwards marvelling at the kindness of strangers and bemoaning our lack of ability to speak better Italian. Not that we are not both of us, very good at using, faces, hands and bodies to talk. It is true that a lot of communication is done without words.
After meeting the man on the red scooter twice more, we reached the corsa and remarked on the fact that it was built so that you can always be in the shade. It was quite hot in the sun.
Leaving the Tabbacheria someone called out "Ciao Bella". Feeling 20 years younger we went into the cafe and ordered coffees. No sooner had we sat down (after our long but extremely slow and intermittent walk - so much for exercise!) than a man brought over a plate with a heap of pieces of chocolate on it and put it on the table. It was for us to taste. It is apparently wine flavoured chocolate. (So much for diet!)
It was very nice.
So after sampling about half of the chocolate, we left in great spirits and strolled off back towards the studio. As my friend said "Today everything looks beautiful" and I replied "That must be the secret of happiness, to appreciate all the little things - and in Pisticci there are just so many of them.
Today was beautiful. Not too hot for walking, but hot enough to wear sandals and no need for a jacket.
We usually start off from my studio and taking our time and saying "Buon Giorno" to virutally everyone we meet , we stroll through Dirupo on the way into town.
At this time of year the light is fantastic and today the blue skies and tiled roofs, the white houses and the geraniums were so picturesque that we were obliged to stop every few yards to take another photo or chat to the man on the red scooter or take a detour up a narrow set of steps and then wonder if we had walked into someone's backyard. Even the washing blowing in the breeze looked pretty.
We could see the sea in the distance looking silvery in the sun and the mountains almost as blue as the sky. Am still wondering who lives in the tall house with the blue shutters. It rises up higher than any other building in Dirupo and used to be a bit of an eyesore before someone painted it and made it look pretty. I have heard that an artist lives there! We had all the time we liked to wonder and look about us.
We wind our way out of the narrow streets and then my friend stops to look at a woman putting something out to dry. She asks what it is - it's dried peppers- they are like crisps. She invites us in and shows us how she has made them, they are dried in the sun, and then apologises for not having many she could give us. While she is wrapping some up a neighbour pops her head in and says that she has plenty so we have to go to her house and get some more. We go into the next house and it is breathtakingly beautiful. From outside it looks like an ordinarily pretty Pisticci house but inside it has curved brick ceilings and goes on back into a sort of bricked cellar. It is like going back in time. I love this kind of building. To actually live in a house like this would be dream for me, but presumably it is normal here.
While she was putting some more dried peppers and tomatoes into a bag the owner said I could take photos. I did, but they don't really show what it was like.
Coming back into the sunshine in the street again, we thanked both ladies profusely .(Rosa and Grazia) and headed onwards and upwards marvelling at the kindness of strangers and bemoaning our lack of ability to speak better Italian. Not that we are not both of us, very good at using, faces, hands and bodies to talk. It is true that a lot of communication is done without words.
After meeting the man on the red scooter twice more, we reached the corsa and remarked on the fact that it was built so that you can always be in the shade. It was quite hot in the sun.
Leaving the Tabbacheria someone called out "Ciao Bella". Feeling 20 years younger we went into the cafe and ordered coffees. No sooner had we sat down (after our long but extremely slow and intermittent walk - so much for exercise!) than a man brought over a plate with a heap of pieces of chocolate on it and put it on the table. It was for us to taste. It is apparently wine flavoured chocolate. (So much for diet!)
It was very nice.
So after sampling about half of the chocolate, we left in great spirits and strolled off back towards the studio. As my friend said "Today everything looks beautiful" and I replied "That must be the secret of happiness, to appreciate all the little things - and in Pisticci there are just so many of them.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
saturday morning in Pisticci
Its been a while since I wrote a nice relaxed blog about an ordinary morning.
So this was Saturday morning just passed, yesterday in fact!
I had come up to my studio about 8.30am as I had a commission I was working on and I wanted to get it finished. It included a very shiny red sports car which I had left till last as I wasn't all that sure how I would do it.
So having arrived here I decided to go out shopping for food - putting off the evil hour. It was a lovely morning . I jumped on my scooter and headed for the supermarket. I like this particular one (Qui) because apart from being reasonably affordable , the staff are all really friendly. I was taken aback one day when one of the girls at the till asked if I had had my hair cut. (That was way more observant than someone else I can think of) I like the car park too. There are trees to park under if its hot ,and often one of those cute little cinquecentos which look like you could pick em up and put them in your pocket, parked diagonally in the corner or anywhere else at any angle. I think I would learn to drive for one of these. And they are painted such bright colours too. Sigh!!
Anyways off home I went with more choc ices and other important stuff. But I still had not had a coffee - you know - to wake me up and help me paint more .So not giving myself any time to argue that the time was getting on and I could make coffee myself I sped off again.
Only my two favourite cafes were closed so I went to another one down by the fruit market with the most gorgeous views. I sat there for a pleasant 15 minutes , took some photos and chatted to the nice guy working there who told me some of the history of the area. I just love that particular view as you look right down over a lot of old roofs with the original tiles and then accross the valley and on to the hills, then the mountains in the distance. Apparently there is a man's hairdresser 2 or 3 doors along where you can get your hair cut and look out over the same view.
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Having had my stimulating cup of coffee I dawdled up the corsa margherita and had a look round the chinese shop. Oh what lovely things they have, but I resisted. (Only have 15euros left to end of month so wasn't that hard.)
Decided I should go to the farmacia next and stock up on decongestants. I tell myself I will be much better when I stop eating so much ice cream. While I am waiting in the the queue I hear drums and trumpets coming closer. I decide that, having my camera I am obligated to take photos so leave just before it's my turn.
It's a small parade with men in tights and velvet tunics carrying large flags, girls dressed up and playing drums and trumpets and various other people dressed in beautiful outfits just walking or carrying a large banner. They go into the piazza and hang about , so after taking some photos I go back into the farmacia. There is now a bigger queue, but am in no hurry.
By the time I come out the procession has reformed and the guys with the flags do a display of flag throwing, twirling , catching, juggling and dropping. They are mostly quite young. I take lots of photos trying to get the flags in the air.
After about 20 minutes it is over and they march off loudly back down the corsa.
By this time someone has offered to meet me for a coffee so ,as its's saturday and whatever hurry I was in I am successfully ignoring, I arrange to meet him in the cafe with the lovely view and as he joins me there I am being offered a guided tour of historical basilicata. I really hope this happens as I have seen pitifully little of this area.
Decided I had better have a fruit juice this time as I don't want to be over stimulated . It is a beautiful cafe inside too. There is a balcony on two sides upstairs and a pitched roof with beams. There are lovely old tiles on the floor and a gorgeous antique cupboard right next to where we are sitting.
So after a last stroll up the corsa I go off through the narrow streets to where my scooter is parked. I love scootering in the town, though its neccessary to be alert as you just never know what the other drivers will do.
What a lovely morning - and now for that red car!
Have added a photo of my flowers outside my door as I am awfully proud that they are still alive. And the three little girls in the drawing thought that if I drew them they would be famous, so I look forward to telling them next time I see them that their drawing has been seen by people from all over the world.
So this was Saturday morning just passed, yesterday in fact!
I had come up to my studio about 8.30am as I had a commission I was working on and I wanted to get it finished. It included a very shiny red sports car which I had left till last as I wasn't all that sure how I would do it.
So having arrived here I decided to go out shopping for food - putting off the evil hour. It was a lovely morning . I jumped on my scooter and headed for the supermarket. I like this particular one (Qui) because apart from being reasonably affordable , the staff are all really friendly. I was taken aback one day when one of the girls at the till asked if I had had my hair cut. (That was way more observant than someone else I can think of) I like the car park too. There are trees to park under if its hot ,and often one of those cute little cinquecentos which look like you could pick em up and put them in your pocket, parked diagonally in the corner or anywhere else at any angle. I think I would learn to drive for one of these. And they are painted such bright colours too. Sigh!!
Anyways off home I went with more choc ices and other important stuff. But I still had not had a coffee - you know - to wake me up and help me paint more .So not giving myself any time to argue that the time was getting on and I could make coffee myself I sped off again.
Only my two favourite cafes were closed so I went to another one down by the fruit market with the most gorgeous views. I sat there for a pleasant 15 minutes , took some photos and chatted to the nice guy working there who told me some of the history of the area. I just love that particular view as you look right down over a lot of old roofs with the original tiles and then accross the valley and on to the hills, then the mountains in the distance. Apparently there is a man's hairdresser 2 or 3 doors along where you can get your hair cut and look out over the same view.
.JPG)
Decided I should go to the farmacia next and stock up on decongestants. I tell myself I will be much better when I stop eating so much ice cream. While I am waiting in the the queue I hear drums and trumpets coming closer. I decide that, having my camera I am obligated to take photos so leave just before it's my turn.
It's a small parade with men in tights and velvet tunics carrying large flags, girls dressed up and playing drums and trumpets and various other people dressed in beautiful outfits just walking or carrying a large banner. They go into the piazza and hang about , so after taking some photos I go back into the farmacia. There is now a bigger queue, but am in no hurry.
By the time I come out the procession has reformed and the guys with the flags do a display of flag throwing, twirling , catching, juggling and dropping. They are mostly quite young. I take lots of photos trying to get the flags in the air.
After about 20 minutes it is over and they march off loudly back down the corsa.
By this time someone has offered to meet me for a coffee so ,as its's saturday and whatever hurry I was in I am successfully ignoring, I arrange to meet him in the cafe with the lovely view and as he joins me there I am being offered a guided tour of historical basilicata. I really hope this happens as I have seen pitifully little of this area.
Decided I had better have a fruit juice this time as I don't want to be over stimulated . It is a beautiful cafe inside too. There is a balcony on two sides upstairs and a pitched roof with beams. There are lovely old tiles on the floor and a gorgeous antique cupboard right next to where we are sitting.
So after a last stroll up the corsa I go off through the narrow streets to where my scooter is parked. I love scootering in the town, though its neccessary to be alert as you just never know what the other drivers will do.
What a lovely morning - and now for that red car!
Have added a photo of my flowers outside my door as I am awfully proud that they are still alive. And the three little girls in the drawing thought that if I drew them they would be famous, so I look forward to telling them next time I see them that their drawing has been seen by people from all over the world.
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