If I say Sanremo, it’s impossible not to think about it’s Festival, the Milano-Sanremo bike race, luxurious shops, high society life, the grand marina.
But real life is completely different in a neighbourhood called Pigna (literally pine cone), and it’s the heart of the city: it’s historical centre.
From the famous Via Matteotti, where the Ariston theatre is located, any side street, will bring you up to Pigna. What impresses me every time I come, is how, in barely one hundred meters, one finds himself from a fashionable environment,...
Do you remember the movie Victor Victoria?
The one in which, for show needs, a woman pretends to be a man who pretends to be a woman.
This is how Old Town Bussana looked to me, a nice village that pretends to be in ruins that pretend to be a nice village.
The art of transformation: nothing is what it seems, but in the end it all remains the way it is.
But Bussana’s history in not at all easy; the village that to my eyes looks simply beautiful, actually does not exist since it was destroyed by an earthquake in 1887 and forgotten until, at...
As always important encounters happen by chance, my friend Linda says they happen when you are on the right path, I’d like it to be so, what I know for sure is that I was wondering aimlessly along Genoa’s lanes on what seemed a usual Sunday, short after lunch, when my glance was trapped by a window. This is how I came across the fake Demetrius.
As I’m shy, I did not try to enter, thinking that the lights were on only for convenience and not because the bookshop was open…ops, I haven’t said it yet have I?...
I only pass trough Ospedaletti when I’m early and instead of the motorway, I allow myself the risk of taking Via Aurelia with all it’s setbacks, traffic and hold ups, that you can well imagine if you consider it’s our only main road. No wander then, that this town to me is nothing more than a cluster of elegant buildings and villas. A welcoming placard as you enter, and a farewell one as you leave it, many choreographic palm trees and the sea, just visible in the distance down below.
Below, under, into town.
Well yes, because above is a...
I went to Nervi to visit my parents, I went without my camera, since I did not find it polite (yes I know, a blogger never goes out without his camera), but let’s not mention it, as it still makes me mad. It so happened that my mother proposes to go for a walk, I agree, we go out, we cross the road, we turn right, we walk down a hundred meters and then turn left along a narrow road…and this is were I found myself!
Now imagine my…let’s call it disappointment, since I didn’t have my camera with me, I was on...
Brasco and I walked over the bridge that charmed Monet on a day in March that felt like Spring.
As it often happens on a hot day, the air was almost thick, and only the colors, still frozen by Winter, revealed the real season.
The village, located in the Nervia valley, in between the valleys of Bordighera and Ventimiglia, is called Dolceacqua, and now you’ll visit it with me…
I arrived at lunch time and the first thing I noticed were the parking signs, clear and well detailed, perfect for a touristic borough! Once I parked my car...
I’ve been to this island (that is not an island) three times, only three times, despite the fact it is only forty km away from my home.
Three times in three different seasons, but always accompanied by the sunshine and a blue sky.
Today, we are (you and I) on a stretch of coast just a stone throw away from the French border, a piece of land that seems far, exotic, fantastic, but in the truth it is situated right here, in Liguria.
I start walking from Balzi Rossi. I fear no contradiction in stating that from here one’s sight is...
It’ s the first Sunday of the month, the day of the second hand market, the day when wandering among stalls of practically useless items (and some absolutely useless ones), you risk to stumble across all the things that with such painful effort you freed yourself from during that great spring-cleaning in nineteen ninety eight.
When I come across these markets, I observe these objects with a snobby air of who, would not even want to see such things in their own rubbish bin.
But after a few minutes among that open air closet it...
To me Bordighera is the portrait of past times elegance: the roman road and it’s late nineteenth century English houses, the architect Charles Garnier’s town hall, the Roman Villa where the Queen Margherita would stay, traces of a splendor and magnificence, that belongs to the past. This is what comes to my mind when I think of Bordighera.
I don’t know why, but I had never been interested in the old town.
… and what a mistake!
To bring light to my blind spot , I ventured to the discovery of this small medieval village...
I went to Pieve di Teco one morning to see it’s cathedral,
but I’m not particularly interested in churches,
they are too conceited,
like who owns a Porsche,
it’s as if they always expect to be noticed,
so as a principle I ignore them, I like small things.
I preferred to just wandered aimlessly around the town, the most tranquil town in the world I’d say. As it goes, since they’ve opened a new tunnel on the 28 state highway, all the traffic has been diverted and now Pieve di Teco is living in a silent bubble....