We have certainly done some steps in Italy and there are many blogs to follow when the ponder is upon me.
Pigment store in Venice
When we were in Rome we pondered ancient civilisations and contemporary art. A quest that was largely successful with some fabulous surprises thrown in. Our last Art gallery before a train trip to Venice had a prophetic slogan on a T-Shirt.
As luck would have it we were off to the Biennale, but not the Fine Art one with National Pavilions. The Architecture Biennale offered cool spaces in beautiful buildings many of them being restored. No t-shirts with instructions were available which rather allowed us to do as we wished
But as I sit enjoying an early morning coffee on the Grand Canal of Venice . A watery motorway of much beauty. I can read a proper writer’s opinion of a place that was home for many years. And the location of so many Pandemic Ponderings, the forerunner of theoldmortuary ponders. So as I set off for another day of wandering aimlessly please enjoy the landscape that is currently exhausting the dogs.
We arrived in Venice by train this evening the sun was just about to set.
We decided to quickly walk to our hotel and then set out for an evening of Flânerie, a Venetian tradition of aimlessly walking about.
We were aimless because the trattoria that was recommended to us was closed, so our first night plan had flittered away.
Being a flâneur is a serious business in Venice, there are bridges to be found and a million things to look at. After 3 or 4 hours of flaneuring our feet were exhausted and our bellies were still empty. Time to retrace our steps to an Osterie that attracted us because of what it didn’t sell.
No Lasagne, no pizza.
It was also opposite a gorgeous green door.
And as it turned out, they sold some pretty amazing seafood.
I do trust my instincts to hunt for interesting images, but for accurate travelling I trust the App Citymapper far more. Our last few days in Rome and the daily 20,000 step count has got us to exactly where we have needed to be, thanks to Citymapper. Once we have delivered ourselves to the right location it is time to trust instinct to fine tune the hunt for the unusual. Rome was extraordinarily full of texture, history and Faith.
There is an awful lot of bling involved in Catholicism, not my thing at all. But I found a simple iron cross, some Sgraffito and some votive candles in a tiny back street. I layered the three together to get a much more humble image of the textures of Christianity than is normal for Rome.
Texture was definitely the defining experience of walking around Rome. Everything is beautiful and fascinating but the small unplanned details stopped us in our tracks.
Every excursion challenged our feet and minds. Pavements were poorly maintained but older cobbled areas maintained their integrity.
Gorgeous buildings were connected by slightly tatty walls but with so much more interest than a perfectly plastered finish
But history also found its way through perfect plastering.
You might think that travelling in Rome might bring more culture to the blog. And that is entirely possible in future days but today it is just going to be a ponderous ponder on my own daftness. Like many children I learnt a lot about the Romans when I was under 12. I knew that if I drew a man in a tunic and sandals with a sign saying SPQR then that would be accepted as a fair rendition of a Roman. In recent years the wonderful academic Mary Beard has kept me up to speed on all things Ancient Rome with her books and TV programmes.
I was somewhat flummoxed today to find the very same initials on contemporary refuse bins, public toilets and manhole covers.
Does that surprise anyone else? Or is it just me who finds this a little surprising to find those initials on such mundane items.
Unknown, unwanted and uninvited a small rodent has moved into the space between the stone walls and the plasterboard in our kitchen. In an even more audacious move he has eaten through the cooling pipes of our built in fridge freezer. Without us noticing the fridge was slowly warming up as it struggled to run on no gas and the freezer quietly defrosted while it filled up with gas. Berries and red cabbage make quite a purple mess when they cascade out of the freezer as the door is opened. The fridge part meanwhile created a variety of cultures that rendered most things unsalvageable. Cleaning glass bottles to rid them of nasty bugs required an old-fashioned bottle brush. And that is how domestic diamonds are created…
In my city or any other I always like to regularly inhabit coffee shops. Particularly independent or very very small chain coffee shops. As I write this I am heading towards Italy, some would argue that I am heading to the worlds leading coffee nation. I am sure that soon enough I will have some good coffee stories to share.
A little extra ponder for the weekend. I am currently reading Mothers Boy by Patrick Gale.
Normally I might not answer this prompt but this particular book, author and subject are almost the foundation of my love of reading . The Mother’s Boy at the centre of this novel is the poet Charles Causley who wrote a poem called Timothy Winters.
At the heart of the poem is a disadvantaged boy living in post-war Britain. Someone whose opportunities the Welfare State was designed to improve. It was probably the first working class poem I had ever been exposed to.
I have stuck with Causley ever since. Then I moved near to Launceston where he lived and became familiar with the geography of his home town. This beautiful portrait of him was done by an artist I know.
I have read many factual books about Charles Causley but this fictional version, based on facts, of his life is so enjoyable. By an author who never puts a foot wrong, in my opinion. I am having a good weekend in my bookish moments
Deconstructed Fruit and Nut Chocolate bar. Gift making in November.
November is one of my favourite months. It feels like a pause or a moment of restfulness before the hurly burly of the festive season. The quality of light when the sun appears, makes normal things more luminous.
November is also my favourite month because my birthday appears in the middle of it. This week I discovered that the authors of two blogs that I follow also have their birthdays in the same week. And we are all virtually the same age. I consider these two women to be blog friends, mentors and inspiration. Their blogs can be found on the links below.
Real world friends with similar birthdays would probably gather on a comfy sofa and natter away amongst plump cushions.
Cushions in a Coffee Shop in St Agnes
We would talk about our friends, families, pets and life in general.
Hugo and Lola in a sunbeam
I would certainly moan about the two viruses that have dampened the spirit of November 2023 for me. Dampened but not damaged. Although by keeping away from people because I was a walking virus pool I have been a lot less social in my real world this November.
Old piece of timber washed up on a beach.
Friends, be they virtual or actual are one of the magic ingredients of life. They are invaluable wherever and however they manifest themselves. They help us make sense of the world.
All week I have been dodging bad weather and a virus. The weather mostly dodged me, I did not dodge the virus and as a consequence despite the morning swim being in beautiful weather and with the extra excitement of it being a birthday bob. I also dodged the bob and had a dry bob. Basically a bob without the need to take my clothes off and get wet. Dry bobs also give the chance to have a good old natter with Coach Andy and drink coffee from a thermos. A dodged bob is never a wasted bob when you can do all of the components except the cold, wet one.