May your days be merry and bright

So, Christmas is almost upon us once again. Not quite sure how that happened, but there you go.

Walking home last night I overheard two girls discussing what they had bought their other halves for Christmas (one lucky guy is getting: a one day River Cottage cookery course, a weekend away and some bits to open on the day. Seems a tad extravagant – we got half a tax disk each one year, and double glazing one year too – but each to their own). I then got home and rang my Mum to ask if she could pick me up a wreath to take to T's grave over Christmas. That's what I'm buying my husband this year.

I still struggle to think of T having a grave. I find it easier to think that he's simply gone. And I'm overwhelmed with sadness when I think what T's grave actually means. It means he's gone. Christmas can be a sad time. I miss him beyond measure: every single day of my life. I just wish I'd find him at home waiting for me one night. I've got so much to tell him and he'd know just what to say according to my various moods. He'd love the person I've become. I'm so much more confident in myself (most of the time), I take more pride in my appearance, I'm thinner and I love my exercise. I'm more relaxed about things that I used to be uptight about. The new me and T would have a blast, I just know it! But I'm only that person because T died and that's a pretty big thought.

Today, the amazing gift of T continued and I did something that gave me immense pleasure. T had £25 in his wallet when he died. I've kept that money to one side as T firmly believed in karma: if ever he found money in the street he'd donate it to charity because it wasn't his money to keep. So I've done the same with T's cash. I've um-ed and ah-ed about what to do with it – add it to T's website, donate it to a random charity – and today I made my decision. I bought a Big Issue from the lovely vendor who stands on Waterloo Bridge every single day – cleverly alternating sides to maximise sales. He is very unassuming, doesn't give anyone the hard sell, in fact he only speaks when spoken to, but then is always very polite. I handed him £20 and told him to keep the change. It gave me such a buzz! I explained that it was T's money and I wanted to give it to him as he works so hard. He was very grateful and told me he was looking forward to next week as it was the only week of the year he has off. I asked what he'd be doing and he told me he'd be sitting in a chair reading. So I hope that £20 makes a small difference to his Christmas. T was a regular buyer of the Big Issue so I know he'd approve.

As well as the sadness associated with Christmases for me now, there is also a lot of happiness. I get to see my family again. Yay! I get to spend time with my nephew, who I haven't seen since October and who will be celebrating his first birthday on Christmas Day. Yay again! I get to escape London and breath some fresh country air. And I get a big long break from work. I also get to spend my first new year in Italy, with some of the lovely people I've met/become reacquainted with over the past six months. There's no definite plan yet, but that's just the way the Italians roll so I have no choice but to roll with them, which is really good for me. I know we've got at least a night and a lunch in Monte Carlo planned, but beyond that I'm not sure. But that's all I need to know and it's all good.

I feel incredibly blessed. Blessed to have such loving, lovely people in my life who look out for me, make me smile, give me support and advice when I need it, keep me company and love me. Blessed to be in good health and good spirits. Blessed to have a job I enjoy (most of the time) and amazing colleagues (20 of us sitting down for a lunch of homemade chilli, jacket potatoes, bucks fizz, crackers and a chocolate raffle today in our large meeting room was really fun!). Blessed to have a job and a warm bed for the night (and an electric blanket!). And most of all, blessed to have known and loved T, and been loved back. I am who I am today because of him. And I'm grateful for everything he's inspired me to do. I'm a lucky girl.

I wish you all a very happy Christmas and all the very best for the new year. May your days be very merry and very bright.

Well, hello

It really has been a while this time, hasn't it? As I've found in the past, going back to work really isn't conducive to regular blogging. Amazingly, I'm already over half-way through week four of the daily grind. I don't quite know how.

Anyway, given I've got a limited amount of time today (on my lunch break) and that my internet access at home is down, this is going to have to be quick. In summary:

– I had a great last weekend in France and Italy with my lovely lovely Italian friends. It included everything I thought it would – rooftop cocktails in Nice and a night on the town, followed by a day at thermal baths in the mountains in Italy with the girls, and one last Italian pizza. The sun shone so I also squeezed in one last swim of the year in the Med (my daily dip in the sea is one of the things I miss the most).

– Coming back to the freezing freezing (at the time) NE was tough. Amazing to see my family but a shock to the system weather-wise. It was chilled to the bone cold (especially as I was living out of my suitcase full of summer clothes) and I really noticed how the weather restricts the ability to be outdoors. Once we'd had our daily Costa coffee we had to think of indoor things to do. I'd been used to lying on the beach for eight hours – swimming, snoozing, reading my book, people watching. With company or without. When the weather's nice you can just 'be' outside. It's harder to just 'be' inside. Anyway, my mum and I found plenty to do, including a visit to the Turkish baths in Newcastle; somewhere I'd never been before but will definitely be going back to. It's very old school and all the more lovely for that. I paid extra to use the city pool too, so managed to get my lengths in that day.

– Coming back to my flat was great! I loved having a range of clothes, shoes, jewellery etc to choose from. I loved having my own space. I loved the familiarity and the fact it was all mine and only mine. Since I got back I've embarked on a big clear out – the freezer's been defrosted (long overdue), the bedroom has been cleaned from top to bottom, including moving every bit of furniture to hoover properly, turning the mattress, clearing out old clothes (mine and T's – I was obviously emotionally ready to tackle this job, but incredible that it took me over two years to feel up to it. I'm pleased I did it in my own time though.). Everywhere is (for now) hoovered and dusted on a weekly basis to keep on top of it, so I'm generally feeling more feng-shuied and happy to be living in my newly streamlined and clean abode. I've also been inspired to get my slow cooker out (thanks to Sal!) and have now got eight home-cooked meals in my freezer which will save me cooking from scratch sometimes.

– I've had Chri to stay for the weekend. Massi and Elvira were meant to come too but cancelled at the last minute. We had a great weekend nevertheless – fish and chips, curry, Camden Market, Covent Garden, an Arsenal game at the Emirates, a Perpignan reunion with two other girls we lived with in 1996, birthday presents and cake for Chri's birthday... It was quite nice being a tourist again in my own city – made me appreciate London a bit more.

– On Monday I started Italian lessons. I'm having two hours every Monday and Thursday for five weeks. The really great thing is that there's only two students in the class, so I'm hopeful we're going to learn a lot and progress quickly. I love language full stop, but I already know I'm going to enjoy learning Italian and being able to communicate with my Italian friends who are always obliged to speak in English when I'm around.

– Work is work is work. Some things never change. I am enjoying being back, using my brain, earning some money to pay for the amazing summer I had, seeing my work friends again. It hasn't been daunting going back. And working four days a week makes a massive difference. I'm so grateful to my mum for suggesting I try and negotiate four day weeks (until Christmas anyway). It means I have one day to get on top of my chores and still have two days of weekend. I LOVE IT!

Right, I'm afraid that's my lunch break over. Hopefully I'll be able to post more regular updates once I resolve my internet at home issues. That may take some time and might involve me buying a new computer in sheer frustration though...

RIP Marco Simoncelli

A quick FYI in case you think I'm MIA

Sorry for the silence; I'm aware I've gone quiet but it's not been intentional. I've been relying on internet cafes since I got back to France and also making the most of my last few days in the sunshine as I head back to the UK next week to start work back in London the week after. The agency I was at earlier this year offered me another six-month contract which kind of works for me as it means I can take off again next summer. I know it's everything I promised I wouldn't do, but I do enjoy my job and the people I work with (hello Luke!) and it's a good way to fund my next adventure. It will also be nice to spend some time with family and friends but I'm warning you now, I'm likely to be a moaning minnie for a good few weeks while I re-adjust.

Since getting back from the UK, this is what I've done:

- Marked T's birthday. I hate the birthdays and anniversaries passing, especially T's birthday. He loved his birthday. I had a strawberry tart on his behalf and lit a candle for him.

- Went to a bi-annual cheese/slow food festival in Piedmonte, Italy. We ate far too much but it was a good day out. I really enjoyed driving through the mountains and fell in love with a small ski village called Limone (lemon in English!).

- Watched a film called 'Auberge Espagnole' for the first ever time. It's basically like watching a film about our lives in Casque D'or in Perpignan. Very surreal. I'm pleased I got to watch it with Chri though, and will be bringing it home to watch with Marras Nic and Hooch.

- Went to the beach most days last week as the weather has been glorious. That's meant I've done a lot of reading which I'm very happy about. I read a good book called 'Night Train to Lisbon' by Pascal Mercier and I've just finished 'Water for Elephants' which I really enjoyed too (thanks Sal!). Now I'm stuck as my next book is in Nice and I'm in Cannes. Grrrr.

- Marked our wedding anniversary. I spent the day on the beach and went out with friends in Monaco in the evening. I told them about T, but not that it was our anniversary that day. They didn't need to know. I enjoyed the day and thought a lot about the happiest day of our lives five whole years ago.

- Met my parents at Nice airport and am currently enjoying spending a week on holiday with them in Cannes. We've been to a beautiful island - Ile Saint Honorat - just a 20-minute boat journey from Cannes. It's very unspoilt and home to a lot of monks. It's well worth a visit. We've also watched lots of stunning sunsets, explored some of the coastline and swam in the sea every day. Today I mastered swimming with my head underwater and saw a big school of fish swimming below me in the crystal clear water! I can't remember ever swimming in such clear sea - it was more like swimming in a pool. Admittedly it's much colder than it was a couple of weeks ago, but still very pleasant for swimming. Yesterday we went to Italy and I feel in love with a town just over the border called Bordighera. I swam at our regular beach in Bussana then picked Chri up from Sanremo and went to my favourite restarant in Bussana Vecchia (the earthquake-damaged town) for dinner. It was very strange for both Chri and me being there again and with my parents too, but we had a lovely evening.

And this is what the next few days has in store:

- Chilling around Cannes tomorrow, including another visit to the beach and some more underwater action!

- Cocktails on a rooftop bar in Nice on Saturday night before my parents fly home, then dinner for me with some lovely Italian friends. Chri is going to Milan so he's a bit put-out that I'll be socialising with 'his' friends!

- A spa day on Sunday with one of the lovely Italian friends who was going to take me as a surprise for my last weekend here but was too excited to keep it to herself - means I've got it to look forward to though.

- Fingers and toes crossed that Monday is nice so I can go to the beach in Villefranche one last time then spend my final evening with Chri. I don't quite know what I'll do without Chri, but I guess I survived for 14 years without him last time, so I can do it again (well hopefully not 14 years this time).

- Fly back to the UK on Tuesday and start work again the following Monday but let's not talk about that right now...

La mer est bleue et les poissons sont verts

Today I'm really really missing the sea; the blueness of the Mediterranean reflecting the blueness of the sky, the far-reaching vistas, the warmth of the sun. But mainly the sea. Suburban life isn't for me.

Random quotes

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”
A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens

“Clare: It’s hard being left behind. I wait for Henry, not knowing where he is, wondering if he’s okay. It’s hard to be the one who stays.”
The Time Traveller's Wife , Audrey Niffenegger

"'To be born again,' sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, 'first you have to die'."
The Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie

What do I feel? and Things that struck me

Part 1 - What do I feel?
I'm back in the UK for a flying visit. I landed late last night and head back on Thursday night. Just time to check up on my apartment, check my post and have a meeting about going back to work. Oh, and maybe get my hair cut too. Haven't been brave enough to get it done in France.

On the plane last night I started a page in my notebook entitled 'What do I feel?'. But I seem to attract sociable people on public transport, always have, and last night the woman beside me chatted from take off to landing, so I didn't get any further than the title. So here's some thinking out loud about how I feel/felt:

- Neutral; neither really sad to be leaving, nor really ecstatic to be returning. It was just something I was doing, but not in a bad way.

- My heart filled with happiness seeing the lights of Nice set out below me. It's been an amazing summer and it was an amazing view. It was good knowing I'll be back on Thursday.

- Knowing that I'll almost definitely be returning to my London life in the very near future and feeling OK about that, quite excited maybe. I've missed my family, friends, apartment and even my car. I've missed my things, my own space, being more in control of my life, a routine (although being without those things has also been incredibly liberating and more good for me than I think I've realised).

- I'll miss the weather for sure; that will be one of the hardest things for me to adjust to. I love love love the sunshine and warmth. I love love love being able to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner outside. Swimming in the sea every day. Eating fruit and vegetables that have been grown locally in the same sunshine that I've enjoyed, not imported from Kenya and NZ and Israel.

- Sad sad sad that my summer is coming to an end. The leaves are changing colour and beginning to fall. The winter clothes are in the shops. I'm likely going back to midnight finishes, stress, London life in general. Things I vowed I wouldn't do, or continue to do. I've done so many amazing things this summer, with so many amazing people. I'm sad to think that their lives will continue as usual, but that I won't be there to share quite so many of the good times with them. Along with the weather and the sea, I'll miss the people and the fun times A LOT. But remembering that I can be back there in 1.5 hours. And that I've got my fair share of amazing people waiting for me back here. To do amazing things with.

- As well as feeling excited about coming back, feeling a bit sad that life in the Med hasn't worked out for me in the medium term. Yet. Knowing that I can't stay in Nice just because I've got one really good friend there, and the city really hasn't stolen my heart so I've got no reason to stay (other than the weather and the lifestyle and Chri). Italy, however, has stolen my heart. Well and truly. But at the same time having doubts about going to Genova without Chri because I'd be so dependent on his friends to look out for me, which they would. But would I have as much fun without that missing link? Then remembering what wise old Sheila the Healer used to say - that it's OK having medium- and long-term plans. That you don't need to get to where you eventually want to be, today. It's OK to work towards that and plan it and get there in your own time. (Italian lessons here I come...)

- Very nervous about going back to Groundhog Day. Questioning my reasons for doing so. Having said that, I'm going to do my darndest to stop it becoming GHD. I'm going to buy fresh bread at Pain Quotidien or Paul and have nice lunches, not some Hovis jam sanga. I'm going to learn Italian. I'm going to exercise. I'm going to try and do fun random things with fun random people. I'm going to try not to work so late. I'm going to try and clear the flat out and make some changes (that one will be easier said than done). I'm going to get to spend more time with my family and observe my youngest nephew growing up - three months is a long time in baby time. I'm going to visit GB in Paris and I can't wait for that. I miss him a lot. I'm also going to visit Yaty in Stockholm. Anyway, I know I said all of this after South Africa last year, but I really need to make it happen. It's up to me. Shit.

Interestingly, writing all of that down has made me question my feelings. It'll be interesting to see how things pan out.

Part 2 - Things that struck me
Travelling into London today, these things struck me at various times during my journey. I wrote them down as they occurred to me:

- Yellow number plates.

- How tall The Shard is.

- How much Italian I'm thinking. (I didn't sleep that well last night and woke up at various times, obviously confused about where I was but with random Italian words going round my head. I praised the computer for working this morning in Italian. I cursed a car when I was crossing the road in Italian. And the ticket machine at the station got some Italian too. Strano.)

- How I hesitate before I speak to strangers in English (like the person beside me on the train or the man on the platform at the station). I'm so used to speaking to strangers in French or Italian. I keep having to remind myself that it's OK to blether away in English - these people will understand me.

- How good it is to be home. I loved my cup of tea and fruit and fibre this morning. With normal milk. I love having a wardrobe full of clothes. And shoes. And a wider choice of jewellery. I even enjoyed my trip to Waitrose. Our supermarkets are so well-stocked.

- How familiar things are - things like buses and taxis.

- How grey the Thames is. Yuk. I'm so used to my water being transparent turquoise. And I appreciate that the Thames will never be transparent or turquoise but it was actually a shock to see how grey it was.

- How excited I am about some of my Italian friends coming to my city in October. So I can return some of their hospitality. So I can show them the best of the city and make sure they have the best time. It will be completely different to my trips to Italy, but I have to avoid putting pressure on myself to recreate those trips and just embrace the fact that they'll be super excited to be here and will be seeing things through a tourist's eyes.

How the other half live (and me, for one weekend only)

I've spent a lot of the summer feeling like I'm in a movie. I've done some amazing things in a relatively short space of time; things that I hadn't anticipated doing, with people I hadn't anticipated doing them with. Things that have given me a huge amount of pleasure. This weekend was no different. This weekend I really did feel like I was in a movie, and a fairly glamorous one at that!

Chri and Alle arrived at my apartment on Saturday late afternoon and helped move my bags to Chri's apartment. Saturday was incredibly humid so I was extremely grateful to the lovely Alle for the use of his large and air-conditioned car. We dropped my bags off then headed to Monaco. The train journey to Monaco is beautiful as it follows the sea but it was nice to be making the journey by car for a change as you get a completely different perspective. We took the road in-land in the hills high above the sea, then dropped down into Monaco. Alle's parents have an apartment in Monaco that they use for work so we got ready there and had a glass of champagne on the balcony. I was very excited to be staying in Monaco randomly! The underground parking at the apartment was full of Ferraris, Porches etc etc. Yes, there were also 'normal' cars but there were a lot of expensive cars too. It's incredible to think of the money concentrated in such a small area. If you can afford an apartment there, then you can afford the car and probably the yacht to go with it.

We went for an apero in the port then on the Horizon restaurant at the Fairmont Hotel, as you clearly do when in Monaco darling! I had tartare of blue prawns to start = delicious and really very blue (I didn't know blue prawns existed), followed by grilled swordfish skewers with houmous and mint tabouleh. We shared a lemon and a strawberry tart for dessert then, as the rain had cleared, we had coffee on the decking overlooking the sea and the city. It wasn't a cheap meal nor was it the best meal I've ever had, and the service was actually pretty dire, which surprised me, but it was an experience nonetheless. An experience I enjoyed.

Although we'd planned to get up bright and early on Sunday and go for a run, when the boys heard I'd never been to a casino they insisted we went downstairs to the hotel's casino. That was an experience too. Why are casinos so bright - is it to prevent cheating? And it was full full full of glamorous women. Lots of Russians and also lots of prostitutes (according to the boys) wearing short dresses and the highest of heels. There were also lots of old people playing the slot machines and it was mostly men at the tables. There was one blonde woman, cold as ice and apparently on her own (maybe those two things are connected?), who approached one of the roulette tables and handed over 300€, which she promptly lost, in about 10 minutes. We had a go on the slot machines and Alle managed to double his 20€ despite none of us quite understanding what we were doing. We cashed that in and given that none of us knew how anything other than blackjack worked, the boys persuaded me to play. Sitting down at a blackjack table in a casino in Monte-Carlo in my LBD, backed by two Italian men really was like being in a film! No-one explains the rules to you so I missed the first round because I didn't put my chips down before the cards were dealt and the croupier doesn't prompt you. Doh! But between the three of us we managed to figure out what we were meant to be doing and I was off! I started cautious and stayed cautious but it reaped rewards. The boys joined the game as and when places at the table became available, and a Swiss guy beside me and a random punter behind me gave me top tips as the game progressed. It was great! I guess we did get a bit addicted because before we knew it it was 3.30am. But the good news is that we came out 20€ up! We had a final drink and some midnight munchies in the hotel bar to celebrate our success and finally got to bed just before 6am! Unfortunately we were woken up three hours later when my phone alarm went off in the room where Alle was sleeping. It was so loud! I didn't realise it got so loud as I normally switch it off within seconds, and poor Alle was terrified as he didn't know what it was. We decided to go back to bed for an hour and woke up again three hours later...

Alle made scrambled eggs with ham and toast - yum, haven't had that since I left the UK - and Earl Grey tea for breakfast then we rang my lovely Mum and sang happy birthday to her (happy birthday for Sunday me Ma!). We caught the bus along to Le Meridien hotel as Alle had free tickets for the pool/beach and had a swim in the indoor pool as it was raining outside. When the rain passed we swam in the sea and the outdoor pool before heading back. Alle then drove us back to Nice and we had moules frites in the port, recounting the highlights of our weekend amid much laughter. (Chri and Alle are like a double act on the comedy-front so my tummy muscles were aching by the end of the weekend. As well as being good for my stomach, it was also good for my soul.)

So all in all, it was yet another amazing weekend; completetly random, unscheduled and like nothing I've ever experienced before (and maybe never will again!). And yet again, I feel incredibly lucky. Lucky to be living this life and having these experiences. But most importantly, lucky to be sharing them with such lovely people who have welcomed me into their lives like an old friend. That means a lot to me.

I didn't exactly pull myself together - I got past such notions - but bits of me did come round again, as flies or memories or subatomic particles will for reasons of their own. Bit by bit I congregated, I suppose you could say, and then somehow I cohered. I went on and had another life. Or went ahead and made the best of the old one.

A quote from 'Breath' by Tim Winton, a good book.

Living the dream, at last!

After a week of updating my various CVs and trying to decide what I want to do in the short term, today I decided to just start living the dream (which I've been doing at weekends, but not during the week) and making the most of my time here in the sunshine. I dropped my CV off at a language school this morning, had a coffee in the sunshine, then came home and did some chores before walking to the port and catching a 1€ bus along to Eze Village, a tiny little village up in the hills above the Mediterranean. I haven't really explored the Riviera, so it was nice to be out and about enjoying the weather and the scenery. I'd made a sandwich so I sat and had that then wandered round the village. There's several art galleries, a few restaurants, a church and two very posh hotels. In one of them, a burger costs 55€. That's 55€. Just think about that for a minute. Two people, two burgers = £100, give or take. Without drinks. That beggars belief. The club sandwich was 40€. A coffee was 7€. For a simple espresso. Now I don't mind paying for good food, but I don't think I could justify those prices. Nor do I believe the quality of that coffee or that burger, even combined with the view, can justify those prices. (But I am going to add it to my wishlist of places to stay when I win the lottery!)

The village is small, so I'd soon finished my little tour and decided to go round once more in case I'd missed anything. I took a slightly different route and discovered the church, so I sat in there for a long while, mostly with my eyes closed, just thinking and relaxing and being. It felt good. It was an interesting church, filled with some quirky religious pictures and in need of a lick of paint in parts, but that only added to its charm. I wandered round the cemetery, observing how the Europeans have a penchant for putting pictures of the deceased on their grave stones. It's quite a nice idea as then you can picture the person, whether you knew them or not. I'm conscious that I haven't yet sorted out a headstone for T. I'm not stressed about it as it doesn't matter when it gets done, but I'm aware that I need to do it at some point. One of my problems is that I've got used to the grave as it is and while I know I need to get a headstone, it will be another little challenge for me to change how it's been for the past two years (say that quickly; I don't know how it can be two years). Another is deciding what the headstone should be like and choosing the words. Anyway, that's tomorrow's problem...

Passing the second most expensive hotel, Chateau Eza, for a second time, I decided on a whim to take myself in there and have a drink on my lonesome. I contemplated having the cheapest drink on the menu - a coffee or a beer - but decided that life was for living so I chose the drink I wanted, which at that moment in time was a campari and soda. So I sat on the terrasse and sipped my campari in the sunshine. And it felt really really good. I felt confident and content, even though I was on my own and in full view of a loved-up couple sipping champagne and sharing kisses. I was just dressed normally but didn't feel self-conscious. I just enjoyed the moment for what it was and I'm so pleased I did. It did me good. Had I gone to India as originally planned, I would have spent my time exploring and enjoying the time there but here I seem to have got sucked in to just living and not experiencing, and I know that when I'm back in the UK I'll regret not having made more of my time here, so from today I'm going to do just that.

Refreshed and relaxed, I then went to another hotel on an errand for Chri, only the hotel wasn't where he thought it was and I ended up on an unscheduled 4km round trip in the heat. Nevermind, I like having a purpose so I was on a bit of a mission and the views were spectacular. It also gave me plenty of opportunities to practice my Italian cursing! I made it back to Eze Village, changed into my trainers and took the Chemin de Nietzsche (he used to visit the Riviera regularly and this was the path he took to and from the village apparently), a twisty turny path through the olive trees to Eze-sur-Mer, some 1300ft below. It was lovely, and nice to do a proper walk in the countryside. It reminded me a lot of Corsica and I know T would have enjoyed the walk. That made me enjoy it even more.

I arrived at the coast, hot and bothered and ready for a swim, but the waves were too big for me to brave so I caught the train back towards Nice, thinking I'd have a swim or a run when I got back. But as the train pulled into Villefranche and I saw that there were no waves there, I took a detour and went for a swim there instead. I couldn't resist. Chri joined me on his way back from Monaco but didn't have his swimming stuff so he sat on the beach in his suit, cursing his lack of bathers while I rubbed salt in the wound and had a second swim. We took the scenic route back to Nice and saw the city spread out below us and I made sure I appreciated that view too, rather than just taking Nice for granted.

I'm now sat on the balcony in as few clothes as possible as it's hot, contemplating packing my bags yet again. I have to move out of here this weekend and in with Chri, which isn't ideal as his new apartment isn't as big as his Italian one, but I'm not going to be there that much and he'll be out at work during the day, so hopefully it will work out. My wise mate, GB, pointed out recently that for a control freak like me, it's actually a minor miracle that I haven't had any concrete living arrangements in place during the whole time I've been here. I'm literally just going with the flow and it's working out and, importantly, I'm not freaking out. I tried articulating to him that it's amazing to think that after every chapter of my journey in time After T, I think I've got to my final emotional destination, only to find at the end of the next chapter I've moved on in even more leaps and bounds. Who'd have thought I'd be hopping on and off the back of scooters every day without stressing about it. T would be truly amazed by that and I'm really really pleased to have experienced something of the pleasure he got from his bike. Or not knowing where I'm going to be sleeping from one week to the next. I feel somewhat liberated from my old anxieties and think that I am living more in the moment. And it does feel good. I'm not cured, and never will be, because that's what makes me me, but I'm living a very different life here. I sometimes wish I could turn back time (OK, well I wish that all the time but you know what I mean) and be able to live my new life with T. It would be such a different life and really nice to be able to share more of T's many passions with him. I'm sorry I couldn't do that while he was still here. But maybe his death was necessary in part to help me get over my anxieties. He's liberated me. What a gift.

The weather forecast for the weekend isn't great, but we're hoping it's going to be nice enough to go running earlyish, then to the beach, but that might be wishful thinking. We're meant to be going to Monaco tomorrow night to have dinner with Alle, one of Chri's mates who I've met a couple of times and get on really well with, and will probably stay the night there. It's meant to be heavy rain on Sunday, which is a right bummer as Alle had free passes for us for the Meridian hotel pool (I know, I'm a total lush!), but if that's not possible we'll probably head into Provence in Alle's massive 4WD. I have to get a photo of him and his vehicle as he is tiny - much smaller than me, but drives the biggest car of anyone I know!

Right, off to do some packing before bed. Happy weekends one and all. Miss you lots xxxx

Chateau Eza - http://www.chateaueza.com/

Genova continued

Saturday was one of my favourite days. We had a lie in, then got up and had toast (for the first time since I left the UK!) with fig jam, made in Sardinia by one of Elvi's relatives - delicious. Chri isn't sensitive to my Britishness and doesn't buy tea so I have coffee when I'm there, but Massi made me an Earl Grey served in an authentic Japanese tea-pot no less. I like this B&B! A lot.

It was a beautiful day, very hot with a clear blue sky but there was a strong wind and the sea was choppy so it didn't appear to be a beach day. We packed the bathers just in case and set off to the nearest town, Nervi, for a walk. Now, I'm normally a fast walker and here I'm usually up front, leading the way, being told to slow down as it's too hot to be walking so fast, but this day was different. I was always at the back and the others kept having to wait for me to catch up. Chri asked what was wrong with me. I explained that I was a) taking in the stunning stunning scenery and b) taking way too many photos. I just couldn't get enough of the coastline. The waves were incredible, especially for the Med, and that only added to the beauty of the place - it was more like an ocean and reminded me of South Africa and New Zealand in parts. I well and truly lost my heart to Italy that morning. The French Riviera really has nothing on this place, nor does Arma di Taggia, Sanremo etc where I spent the summer, and I thought they were nice places. This place is something else.

We stopped for delicious and very welcome granita - fruits of the forest and yogurt flavours for me. Despite the wind, it was very very hot and we couldn't even cool down in the sea. From Nervi, we drove along the coast to Camogli, a beautiful little fishing village, where I fell more in love with this country than I thought possible. The sea was incredibly high, with waves crashing over the harbour wall and the beach was cordoned off. There weren't even any surfers out. It was simply spectacular. We had foccacia al fomaggio for lunch, a local speciality that's kind of like a white cheese pizza. Yum again. Then made our way back to Massimo's house. The boys went into Genova so Chri could collect his post, while Elvira and I got ready for the beach BBQ. We picked up another guy en route and drove for about 45 minutes to the beach where the 'boobgate' incident happened! It was all quite low key and casual, which suited me fine (I'd been a bit nervous about the Genova weekend as I wasn't sure what we'd be doing, where we'd be going, what I should wear!). One of Chri's mates, Alle, surprised everyone by turning up for the bbq with his lovely girlfriend, Irine, after I'd called him to invite him along with only an hour's notice. Apparently he's notoriously lazy and needs at least a week's notice before he commits to anything so I took full credit for his appearance. I also drank too many strong mojitos and can't remember some of the night, which is all a bit strange (but when I suggested to my mate GB that maybe someone put something in my drink, he said yes love, alcohol - that made me chuckle!). Anyway, all in all it was a perfect day in a beautiful place.

Sunday was completely different but just as good. I had to be dragged out of bed but eventually Chri and I headed along the coast to another little town called Recco to meet Omar, his girlfriend and their one-year old daughter, Zoe. It was so lovely to meet O's family and very surreal to see him as both a father and a serious boyfriend after knowing him all those years ago aged 20! We couldn't stay for long, partly because we had to get back but partly because Omar was having his first surfing lesson. I was sorry not to be able to stay to see how he got on, especially after trying surfing myself for the first time last year and therefore having some understanding of how it's not as easy at it looks.

Chri and I picked up some fresh foccacia in Recco (which, being the birthplace of foccacia al formaggio was, as you might guess, delicious) and headed back to Massi's where we met Daniela, the girl we'd spent some time with in Arma di Taggia a couple of weeks ago. We relaxed in the garden for a while before I headed into the kitchen to find out if my final Advanced Cookery Lesson (ACL) would be starting soon. I was told to go back into the garden and that Massi would be out in a second. I didn't know what was going on but did as I was told, thinking we must be having an apero or something before starting to cook. A few minutes later, Chri, Massi and Elvi appeared and I was told that I was getting my ACL diploma ahead of my final lesson, as I'd need the diploma for the final lesson. I was then presented with a pinny that had my name embroidered on it, with 'ACL Beautiful Cooker, Agosto 2011, Genova'. I was so very very touched and couldn't wipe the grin off my face! I couldn't believe that they'd been so kind and thoughtful and I felt truly blessed to have met such lovely lovely people who had welcomed me into their lives and their homes with so much generosity and love.

Then the cooking really began! Massimo and I went into the garden and picked various types of tomato, peppers, aubergines, courgettes, courgette flowers and basil. You can't get fresher veggies than that and just picking the vegetables gave me a lot of pleasure. We then cooked up a feast for six people. We had simple but delicious bruschetta to start, then fried courgette flowers (roll them up with either a little piece of basil or anchovy, dip in batter then fry), vegetable pasta (boil the tomatoes up then pass them through a mincer, fry finely chopped red onion - in way more oil than I would ever have thought to use, add the passata, then finely chopped pepper then later, finely chopped courgette, aubergine and a smidgin of red hot chilli pepper, served with big rigatoni - not sure of the proper name of that pasta - cooked very al dente and freshly grated parmesan), foccacia al formaggio but fried this time (make the pasta/dough, roll into small thin rounds, add a spoonful of stracchino cheese, fold in half and pinch together then fry in very hot oil until crispy and serve sprinkled with salt) and Chri made a caprese salad too. Eating this feast in the sunshine overlooking the Med, with these lovely people was like heaven for me.

We said goodbye to poor Chri who had to catch the train back to Nice and I spent the rest of the afternoon snoozing in the hammock with a big smile on my face. On Monday I pottered around at home as Massi was at work and Elvi had to go to university, then later Elvi and I went to the local beach. I say beach, but Genova doesn't really have beaches - they perch on rocks really - but we had a swim and relaxed in the sunshine before it was time for me to head back to France too. Omar came to collect me and we managed to squeeze in a very quick apero overlooking the sea, nearly missed my train in true Omar-style, then I was on my way. What a weekend! Although I paid the ultimate price to be living this life and would trade it in for my life with T in a heartbeat, sometimes I feel very very lucky.

The weekend to top all weekends

Well, 15 years after first hearing about how wonderful Genova is, I've finally experienced its wonder for myself. And my new-found love for Italy has increased ten-fold. As usual, I've got lots to say, so I'll try and start at some sort of beginning...

On Thursday evening Chri and I went along to Villefranche to meet my friend Alice and her boyfriend who are on holiday in Cannes. Alice lives near Paris but I met her on my NZ trip last year. It was so lovely to see her again - yet another Flying Kiwi reunion! It got extremely warm here last week, so Chri and I insisted on a quick swim before we went for dinner. The sea was completely flat, transparent turquoise and warm as a bath. (I think Chri and the elements are conspiring to keep me here, especially as I'd spoken to my family through the week and they usually told me that it was either cold or wet in the UK.) Anyway, we had a lovely evening in a restaurant overlooking the bay, finally speaking French, which I haven't needed to do much of since I got to France!

On Friday I caught the train from Nice to Genova. It's takes about three and a half hours, so I'd packed a book, my new Italian phrase book and a big bottle of water as the aircon on the Italian trains is very unreliable. The compartment I was meant to be in was full of kids, so I went and sat in another compartment with an Italian girl. After a couple of stops, the girl lent over to see if the aircon was working as it was getting a bit unbearable. She said something to me in Italian so I had to explain I didn't understand and asked if she spoke French or English. Turns out she spoke fluent English and we got on like a house on fire - we had so much in common, from our background in marketing to not knowing what we want to be when we grow up and where we want to live! Soon we were joined by a guy who was trying to read and make notes, but as we were chatting so much, he couldn't really help but listen and eventually join in. He used to be a lawyer but has jacked that in and is now a photographer/designer, so lots in common with him too - it was actually all a bit surreal and made the journey pass really quickly. We couldn't get over how bizarre it was that the  three of us ended up in the same compartment and all got on so well. So now I've got two new facebook friends and I think there's a high possibility I'll see those two again. A good start to the weekend.

The view from Eataly, the lunch stop

I was met at the station in Genova by Omar and he took me to a lovely restaurant overlooking the port for lunch. While we waited for Massimo and Elvira to arrive in the car to pick me up, O took an extended lunch and gave me a quick guided tour of some of his city. Genova seems to have many different sides to it, both in terms of architecture and ethno/demographics. It's not a city you fall immediately in love with, but it has a certain charm and it didn't take me long to get sucked in. It's a 'real' city, not like Venice or maybe Florence (althought I've never been); it's a lived in city. I think it probably helped being with locals too. Massi and Elvi continued my tour - we saw the old town, lots of churches and the cathedral, Chri's parents' shop that we heard so much about in Perpignan, Chri's parents' apartment, a street of amazing old buildings full of frescos, the old city wall and the east and west gates, Christopher Colombus's house etc etc. We finished the hot afternoon off with a campari and soda and some nibbles, before heading east along the coast to Massi's house, which is officially paradise.

The view from Massi's house

Massi lives near a small town/suburb called Nervi (where O lives too). You drive halfway up a hill, leave the car and continue uphill on foot for about ten minutes. It's a hard climb but OMG is it worth it! Words can't really explain how perfect the setting is - I'll post pics when I'm back in Nice - but it's absolutely stunning. He's got a long garden overlooking the sea and the views from every window are simply perfect. Even this morning - day four of my visit - I opened the shutters and the view took my breath away. Chri arrived at 9pm on the train from Monaco, very excited to be hosting me in his city, so we just chilled out at home before heading back into town to meet him. We had pizza in a small piazza then went for a sambuca coffee in a busier part of town. Apparently the city was pretty quiet as everyone is away on holiday and the students aren't back, but it was nice just strolling round with the boys saying ciao to every other person that passed - it's definitely their hood!

Right, I can't sit inside on the computer when the sun and that view are waiting for my outside, so I'm going to leave part two of the story for another time. Massi is at work and Elvi had to pop to her university this morning, so I'm going to have a shower then go and lie in the hammock until Elvi gets back when I think we'll head to the beach. I'm going to catch a train back to Nice this evening so need to make the most of my last day in paradise (well, until I come back next week...). Ciao for now xx

Paradise lost and found again

Hello. It's been a while. Sorry about that. To say I've had a rollercoaster of a fortnight would be a gross exaggeration, but I've been a wee bit up and down. The good news is that now I'm back on the up for now. I think maybe my lonely and very basic living arrangements, combined with feeling a bit unsettled and uncertain about the future (even though I'm meant to be living each day at a time...) and missing my family and friends, plus maybe the after effects of T's anniversary and the highs (all natural, of course!) of my weekends in Italy contrasted with the lows of my return to 'normal' (ie solitary) life on a Monday, all contributed to the low. But as my trusty counsellor, Sheila the Healer, would have told me - these things are like a spiral. You know there are going to be lows, but equally you know that the highs will return and you have to hold on to that.

Anyway, I can't remember when I last posted, but I'm now a qualified TEFL teacher - yay! I've also said goodbye to some good friends from the course. Taught 12.25 hours last week (after which my student gave me a thank you present!) and two hours this week. I've been to Renoir's house, which I really enjoyed, and to a lovely little hilltop village near here, where me and a friend from the course watched the sun set over the mountains while eating pizza and drinking one too many beers at Le Jimmys. I had a friend of a friend to stay for a couple of nights one weekend and had a lovely time doing the tourist thing in Nice with her, something I've not done since I've been here. I loved the modern art museum and eating socca again for the first time in about seven years. (And hello Clare if you're reading - hope your last few days in Marseille are going well!). I also did lots of thinking and last week going past the airport on the train, I decided I'd had enough, that I was no longer happy and that I would head back to the UK after my parents' visit next month. Life's too short not to be happy. Even in this semi-paradise. Then, last Friday, I went to Italy and the upward spiral started afresh.

Yesterday, I think I officially fell in love with Italy. When I fell in love with NZ, it was pretty instant. With Italy, I fully expected to fall in love with it from day one (I'm thinking food, drink, weather, sea, countryside etc) and have certainly had a ball visiting it every weekend, but until yesterday it hadn't quite clicked. Yesterday it did, and I was cycling through a 1100m dank, gloomy tunnel at the time; hardly what you'd expect! I can't remember if I mentioned watching the film, 'Eat Pray Love' recently? Sometimes when I'm in Italy I feel a bit like I'm in a film and I love the place.

Anyway, in chronological order, I arrived in Italy last Friday. Chri and I went for a run along the old railway beside the Med. It was stunning. We got back, sweaty and hungry, and shortly after doing our stretches, Massimo the chef arrived from Genova with Elvira. Result! But I hardly had time for a shower before I was summoned to the kitchen to assume my sous-chef duties. These lessons have been christened ACL - Advanced Cookery Lessons - I was told at the weekend that I've got one more ACL next weekend then I've got a test (ie cooking request dishes for a group of people, on my own apparently!), if I pass I get a diploma. It's all getting a bit serious. On the menu on Friday was stuffed squid! (I've never cooked squid before so pardon the lack of technical terms.) First we chopped the fin(?) and tentacley bits off. They were chopped up small with parsley, salt, pepper, onion, capers, maybe breadcrumbs, maybe garlic, I can't quite remember. We then stuffed this mixture into the squid and they were eventually cooked like the stuffed lettuce leaves, in a mixture of oil and water, this time with beet leaves from Massimo's garden and olives. Maybe tomatoes too. For the primi course, we coated fresh anchovies in flour and fried them. They were served alongside fresh anchovy fillets that had been marinated in lemon juice and maybe some parsley too. Yummier than they sound. After dinner, Chri disappeared unexpectedly on his scooter and came back with gelati - even yummier, and a great way to end the meal. We had such a laugh! When the onion chopping made Massimo cry, Elvira produced a diving mask and Massimo proceeded to cook wearing a pinny and the mask! We'd been joined for dinner by our mate, O's sister-in-law, Daniela. She, for various reasons, was a bit the worse for wear and began prancing round the room saying she was a ballerina. She clearly isn't! She also taught me the Italian for raspberry when she raved on and on about the 'lampone' ice-cream. Repetition is definitely a good learning/teaching technique! It was nice to have a smile back on my face and to feel relaxed and included and part of a group. I think that sense of belonging is something I really need.

On Saturday we headed into the mountains, something we've not done since I've been there. It was beautiful and I loved it up there. Monday was a bank holiday in Italy, feragosto, so we checked out several restaurants en route, with the aim of booking one for lunch on Monday. We stopped in a nice little town called Badalucco for lunch (charcuterie, cheeses, caprese salad and a glass of red wine = heaven), and a walk. It was nice to get some fresh air and stretch my legs, rather than just sitting on the beach all day. On Saturday night we went for Aperol ginger ale (you HAVE to try it Lynn!) on the seafront near Chri's, then headed into Sanremo for some livelier action. When we got home Elvi and I disgusted the boys by sharing a bowl of All Bran (they called it rabbit food), while they made midnight pasta. I made an almost fatal error when I said to Elvira that the rabbit food was better than pasta. Not the thing to say in front of two Italian boys who like their food, or maybe any Italian for that matter!

Sunday was beach day. We were joined by a more sober Daniela and spent the day in and out of the water. We also had several really good games of table football - Chri and I managed to win every game despite my lack of skill on the fussball table. At the end of day Chri, Elvi and I went for a run along the old railway line, finished with a dip in the sea. It was absolute bliss! If only every run could end that way. We went into Sanremo in the evening as there was a big firework display. I had an awful 40 minutes or so when Chri and Daniela hadn't appeared on the scooter and Chri wasn't answering his phone. The three of us waited for them, walked round the block as Massimo said he couldn't just stay waiting there and we still hadn't heard. My mind went into absolute overdrive and lots of those old feelings started coming back. I couldn't cope if I had to go through all of that again with two people I know. I just couldn't. Fortunately Chri eventually got hold of Massimo, telling him he'd been calling his own phone for ages that he thought was in my bag, so having a go at me for not answering it. Turns out it wasn't; he'd left it at home. So we both vented our emotions and there was lots of Italian-style gesticulating going on (I've adopted some of that in times of need!) but the main thing was that everyone was A-OK. Phew.

Monday was immense. Daniela came in her car and we drove up into the mountains again. We went for another walk then to the democratically chosen restaurant for lunch. A mushroom restaurant!! It was one of those typical Italian places where there's no menu. They just keep bringing more and more food, normally serving you a spoonful from a big serving dish that they take from table to table, more like being at someone's house. We had two kinds of raw mushroom salad - one with salsiccia and one with parmesan. Then mushroom frittata. Mushroom gratin dauphinois. Mushroom risotto. Mushroom tagliatelle. Mushrooms and melted cheese. Chilled ricotta with finely chopped spring onions (and not a mushroom in sight for once!). And that was just the primi. Secondi was lamb chops with mushrooms fried in breadcrumbs and some sort of warm mushroom dish. And in case you didn't know, I don't like bloody shrooms! I have to say I did very well considering. We finished off with homemade tiramisu served in old-fashioned potties for some reason, and a liquorice digestif. Then we went to the river and lay on the beach and tried to sleep it off. Although even seasoned mushroom eaters can have too many, I think; none of us slept well that night. After a little siesta by the river I suddenly went a bit hyperactive and went swimming four or five times, clambering over the boulders, up river, down river, back in the river. I blame the shrooms - maybe they were a bit magic? Massi and Elivera left for Genova that evening and Chri and I collapsed on the sofa to watch 'Sleepers' (good film).

Chri was back at work on Tuesday so I did some cleaning and then took myself off to the beach. The weather has been perfect this week - better than it's been for a while. I made stuffed peppers with couscous, chorizo and feta for dinner, with salad. Massimo had texted to ask what I was going to cook for his hungry friend that evening - they like to put the pressure on! Neither of us felt like eating much, but it did get the thumbs up.  I think we were just relieved to eat something normal and light. That evening we watched another good film, Blow, that I'd not seen before. Yesterday I hired a bike and cycled along the old railway line to the next biggest town, Imperia. It was amazing! There weren't many people around and the sea was absolutely beautiful - crystal clear and turquoise blue. I was on my own, but active and with a purpose. I found myself whistling away and it was then that I had my eureka moment with Italy. I realised I felt completely happy. I was really living in the moment and although I wasn't doing anything radical, it was great! I wandered round Imperia, had lunch in a cafe then took myself back along the coast to Arma. We went for a long swim out to a buoy when Chri got back from work with the sun setting over the mountains and a deserted beach. If only more people could end their working day like that, the world might be a happier place. Tea last night was chicken, bacon and avocado salad followed by a hot shower for the first time since Sat as Chri's boiler had packed in. Happy days.

Today Chri and I caught the train in to Monaco/Nice together and I taught for two hours this morning. My student was coughing and spluttering all over me, so I've been popping the vitamins since I got back. I've been cleaning and packing this afternoon as I'm moving out of solitary confinement this weekend. Thank the lord. I'm heading back to Italy tomorrow to help Chri move to Nice on Saturday and at the same time, I'll move into the apartment of one of the guys on my course for a week or so. It will be good to be in town at long last. I think we'll spend one last night in Italy on Saturday then go to the beach on Sunday. Next week I'm going to meet up with a French girl, Alice, who I met while in NZ last year. She's going to be in Cannes on holiday, so I'm really looking forward to that reunion. Then on Friday we're off to Genova for the final ACL at Massimo's house. Apparently it's on a hillside up a dirt track and I know he's got a garden - sounds idyllic! I've been invited to stay on into next week so I'll see how it goes and whether Genova hooks me in and makes me want to explore it more. (Chri is only a little bit upset that he's got to go back to work on Monday. He's also a little bit upset that when the three of them come to London in October, Massimo and Elvira are staying on until Monday while he's got to go back to Nice on Sunday, ready for work on Monday. I think he's worried that I'm stealing his mates and that we might have fun without him. Perish the thought!)

So who knows what the future holds, when I'll be back in the UK for a visit or more permanently? I just know that while I'm feeling so far away from my family and friends and missing them incredibly, I've been fortunate to have made some new friends, as well as renewing a very old friendship. These people have helped me rediscover my raison d'etre and reminded me why I'm here, where the sun shines and the sea is blue. For today, that's enough. But it doesn't stop me from missing you all. Big love xx

PS I'll try and add some pics soon

Yet another blast from the (1996) past

OK, so this wasn't quite a reunion, but last night I saw someone in the flesh who I haven't seen in person since 1996 - bizarrely, the same year that I first met Chri and O. This particular guy's name has come up a lot in conversation recently, which made last night even more of a coincidence. At the reunion with Chri and O in June his name came up. It came up again during one of my classes last week. And it was even mentioned by T in his wedding speech. Yes, last night I saw my old heart-throb David Ginola!! He's gained a few kilos and lost his flowing locks and I wouldn't really want a picture of him on my wall, but I did recognise him instantly and felt some kind of affinity to him. Not surprising I guess, given his was the last face I saw before falling asleep and the first I saw the next morning for the six months I lived in Perpignan. I even spoke French to him once at St James Park (and then I sent him a letter and he sent me a signed photograph by return but I was 18 at the time so don't tell anyone that bit!). He was playing at the match we went to last night, although playing is maybe the wrong word. He must have been on the pitch for about 10 minutes, maybe 12, and had about two touches of the ball before he was begging Sir Alex to take him off. (The match was a waste of time - no atmosphere and the Man U team lost 8-2... There was no Rooney and no Cantona as per the posters, but we did get to see Alex Ferguson, Prince Albert of Monaco, Park Ji-Sung, Fabien Bartez, Patrice Evra and Didier Deschamps. And it was for charity.)

Today

Today we're working from home as we have to give a ten minute presentation to the class tomorrow on a business-related subject. I've got to talk about meetings. A ten minute presentation about meetings and we get the day off to prepare! Anyway... We've also finished our teaching practice (six lessons taught, including three with our case study), so we also have our case studies to prepare for submission on Thursday. They look at them overnight on Thursday and we have a 30-minute individual review with one of the tutors on Friday when we'll get our certificates. Seems we'll all pass, which is good.

Tonight I'm off to see Marseille play a team from Manchester Utd in Monaco. It's a charity match with the likes of Wayne Rooney and Eric Cantona turning out for Man U. Chri rang me earlier to tell me he'd seen the Man U team jogging in the port area on his way to work. I'm quite excited but hope there's a good atmosphere. The French seem to be a bit shy and retiring when it comes to public displays of passion. The Italians moaned a lot about the atmosphere at the Jamiroquai gig, which was slightly lacking. I guess Chri and I will just have to try and make up for it!

Right, on with some school work and maybe a swim...

Attraversiamo

The second anniversary of T's death has been and gone. Not one day goes by that I don't think about T, so the anniversary of T's death is really a day (or two days) like any other; filled with the same amount of painful love, longing, regret, sorrow, memories etc etc. Recalling the exact detail of those horrendous 24 hours causes me more heart-searing pain than anything else, just thinking about it makes me cry. So I really believe that I've spent both anniversaries in the most perfect of ways. Last year I was with GB and his lovely daughters. We had a great day; I remember it well. The sun shone, the girls asked me questions that would ordinarily have been difficult but because of their innocence were perfectly manageable. We ate well and drank too much. We remembered T but not in a heavy, depressing way. Just in a remembering way - recalling him and times we shared with him. Tears were shed but there was much laughter, late into the night over one too many whiskies and a sky lantern. I felt supported and looked after and loved. This year I was in Italy with Chri and two of his friends, Massimo and Elvira, a couple I'd never met before. None of them were aware of the significance of the date until my emails made me cry on Saturday evening and I confided in Chri but, with hindsight, that was all good. The weekend was filled with food, food and more food. And a fair bit of wine. Lots of sun, sea and sand. And bucketloads of laughter and raucous giggles. I think T would have approved.

Upon hearing that Massimo is a better chef than Chri, I'd made a special request to be sous-chef on Friday night. It was great! I was told that we were going to open the white wine and, with the first glasses poured, Massimo and I were going to cook while Chri and Elvira made the beds and set the table. First of all we prepared the secondi - stuffed lettuce leaves (waaaaay more delicious than they sound). My first task was to beat two eggs. I combined them with mince and we added crushed pine nuts, grated nutmeg and parmesan and mashed everything together well with a fork. We should have added marjoram but there wasn't any. We then dipped lettuce leaves in a frying pan filled with boiling water, just for ten seconds or so, until slightly wilted. They were dried and we put a spoonful of the meat mixture onto the leaf and rolled it up into a little dim sum-like parcel. Massimo demonstrated with the first one, then I was in charge of the parcel making while he did the leaf dipping and drying. It was like a bad cookery programme where we'd be moving around the kitchen doing a bit of cooking, then Massimo would ask how we say a particular word in English so we'd do a bit of vocab, then carry on with the cooking. ('Corkscrew' was a particularly challenging word for the Italians to pronounce and remember. That and 'dwarves', but more about the small people later.) Hanging out with Italians as a non-Italian speaker is proving to be great and authentic teaching practice for me. We're doing vocab, pronunciation, grammar points and a bit of cultural stuff, all day every day.

With the parcels prepped, we started work on the primi: pasta with courgette from Massimo's garden, onions, saffron and cream. I didn't really contribute much to this course but I was recalled back to the kitchen to observe - Massimo clearly took his training role very seriously! Onions and courgette were finely diced, then fried off in some oil before adding the rest of the ingredients. Meanwhile, Elvira had completed her chores and made the antipasti - she toasted little rounds of bread, then added anchovies and cherry tomatoes to one lot, gorgonzola to another and parmesan to another. We ate them, then, while the pasta sauce was cooking, we started cooking the lettuce parcels. We heated up finely diced onion in olive oil, then added some water. The parcels were dropped in and we kept adding more water as necessary, so they were sort of being steamed (Massimo called it humidor, I think?), towards the end we also added a splash of white wine. The smell was divine! While they were cooking we had our primi pasta dish = big thumbs up. The pasta was cooked to perfection. (I'm going to invest more in pasta in the future. This stuff was dried but more yellow that the basic pasta I normally get. I'm pretty sure I've seen something similar in the UK but probably wasn't prepared to pay more for it. Now I will.) Next, the lettuce leaves were served on their own, in a pool of the stock/broth that had formed = delicious too! After we cleared away, Chri finely chopped some hazelnuts, mixed them with a spoonful of Nutella in four espresso cups and poured coffee over the top. A perfect way to end the meal! We then drank red wine while watching 'Eat Pray Love'. I can't think of a more appropriate film to have watched that evening - food, drink, soul-searching, Italy, India. It had it all and, cheesy as it was, seemed to speak directly to me.

I had a lie in on Saturday morning while Chri went and got the foccacia and reserved the sun loungers and Massimo cooked lunch for us to take to the beach. And when I say cooked, I mean cooked! He got up about 8am and made meatballs with the leftover mince and a delicious sauce with courgettes, onions and tomatoes. I simply got up late, sat in my PJs dipping foccacia into the caffe latte I was presented with and observed the last stages of the cooking. Plenty of distractions that prevented me from focusing too much on the fact it was the second anniversary of T's accident. We eventually made it to the beach and spent the day in the sunshine - swimming in the sea, drinking coffee, reading and eating. It was a good balance of quiet thinking time as and when I needed it, but lots of distractions and activity too. I was slightly perturbed when, while Chri was having a massage on the beach, Massimo told me that he couldn't have an all-body massage as he would rise. Er, OK, a bit too much information but I have heard of that happening to men! Turns out he unintentionally confused the Italian verb 'to laugh' with the English verb 'to rise' and meant to say that he couldn't have an all-body massage as he would laugh, ie he's ticklish, but I only found that out later. (I can hear you laughing from here, AB!!) I was in tears over that one!

Elvira and I ran home from the beach along the old railway line, so that was a good T-connection and made me feel slightly better about all the food I'd been consuming! We showered and headed to my favourite restaurant in Bussana Vecchia, the earthquake-damaged old village where Chri and I went a few weeks ago. Chri and I didn't need to look at the menu; we had exactly what we'd had the last time but substituted the lamb cutlets with sausage. And it was just as good this time round. Maybe even better, as the nutella semi-freddo we had last time had been replaced with an amaretto version. O.M.G! (Made me think of you, Margot!) I decided against raising a toast to T, but toasted him internally with every glass I drank over the weekend, and I drank a few! Chri also silently acknowledged the significance of the date at our first glass chink with a simple wink that said more than words could. I appreciated that.

Conversation was conducted in a mixture of Italian and English. At one point the others started talking about how tanned they were from the beach and they commented that I was more like Snow White. That prompted someone to say that no-one can ever remember the names of all seven dwarves and we spent a long time trying to think of their names in both Italian and English. I got to five on my own, they got to six between them but just couldn't remember the seventh and we couldn't work out the translations to know which ones we were missing. They asked the waiter. He didn't know. They asked the chef who'd emerged from the kitchen to pour us a delicious myrtle liqueur. He didn't know. They asked the lady at the till. And eventually, on our way out, the chef asked someone at another table and soon the whole restaurant was trying to remember. The roar when someone came up with the seventh name was quite something! Coming back down the hill from the village on the scooter, Chri slammed on the brakes and said, 'Did you see that?'. I said no and asked what it was. And he, through much laughter, said there had been a dwarf crossing the road! It was difficult to be melancholy after a night like that!

From Bussana Vecchia we went on to a red wine (Rosesse) festival in Soldano, a village in the hills near the French border. I had a minor internal panic on the journey when I starting thinking what if we have an accident and I die on the same day as T in a motorcycle accident. I was sad to think of myself dying, but the pain it would cause my loved ones, on that day of all days, was almost too much. Anyway, que sera sera and thankfully it wasn't to be and we arrived safely in Soldano. There was a great atmosphere, like New Year's Eve, with merry people of all ages wandering from stall to stall sampling the wine. I was intrigued by the doorways with a bottle of water on each side of them. I asked why people did that and was told that it stops dogs weeing in the doorways. I was dubious about this theory so was encouraged to ask various people we met. All bar one of my sample concurred with the theory, but no-one knew why it worked. One guy, who used to be married to a woman from Walsall, said it stopped cats weeing in the doorways. We think maybe he'd had one red wine too many! We got home late and all cried with laughter over funny YouTube videos of talking cats and dogs. T would have really enjoyed them - he was a sucker for things like that. I eventually fell asleep at about two in the morning with a fit of the giggles. Last time I did that was with T. So that was kind of nice too.

I had another lie in on Sunday while Massimo cooked lunch. We headed to the beach and spent the day in a similar fashion to Saturday, only this time we ate pasta with a tomato, onion, courgette and aubergine sauce. It was the festival of San Erasmo yesterday so Chri's village was out en masse (and by coincidence, Chri and I met on an Erasmus programme in Perpignan 15 years ago, so we had cause to celebrate too). The saint was processed through the village, prayed to in a very long-winded manner by a tipsy priest, then processed back to the church, accompanied by a band. We sat and observed, sipping our aperol and ginger ales (that I've been waiting to try since I first came here in June - I thought of you, Lynn, you'd defintely like them!). I'd been persuaded to stay Sunday night too, so we went home via the supermarket and had a delicious tea comprising cold meats, mozzarella, burrata and salad, followed by strawberries with sugar and lemon juice (the Italians weren't buying the whole black pepper on strawberries idea). I was in a pensive mood, and tired, but it was OK. We were meant to go back into the village for the San Erasmo fireworks at 22h30, but were just too tired. Instead Chri and I watched them from the balcony while the others watched a film. At the end of the display Chri said, 'Maybe it's a sign that we are looking in the sky this evening.' I like to think that it was.

I received a constant stream of text messages, phone calls and emails over the weekend. I can't tell you how much that meant to me - thank you, thank you, thank you. I love it that people were thinking of T. I also believe that the intense concentration of T-related energy created in various corners of the globe over the past 72 hours can only have been a positive and powerful thing. I'm especially grateful to my family for visiting T's resting place and leaving flowers (for T's rabbits!). I know I'm not obliged to visit T's grave to prove anything, but it does sometimes upset me that I'm always so far from it and it's comforting to know that T has visitors.

Anyway, I'm rambling. Those of you who know me well will appreciate why this was a perfect weekend for me. As with last year, I couldn't have articulated how I would have wanted to spend these two difficult days (I guess I don't really want to 'spend' them at all), but the hand of fate made that decision for me and it was a good one. I did so many things T loved - running, swimming, eating, drinking, partying, riding around on two wheels, joking, laughing, socialising, thinking, reading, contemplating and generally just living life. I dedicated my weekend to him, as I dedicate my entire life AT. I still endeavour to live a life less ordinary in T's name and what better motivation could I have?

The heavy one...

Time is strange. Two years suddenly feels like an awfully long time. Two years! How the hell have I survived for two years? How did that time pass? How can it feel like only yesterday that I was living my old life yet how, at the same time, does that old life feel like an eternity ago? How can I feel connected to that old life, yet so far removed from it? How can I be the girl whose husband died? How can I be the girl that takes off on a whim and does ridiculous (but totally amazing!) things like jumping out of a plane? I struggle to connect the two. But then maybe I don't have to.

I hadn't thought properly about the vastness of time that makes up two years until I was chatting to my ever-loyal friend, GB, last night. He said he couldn't believe that two years had passed; both in terms of T not being there, but also in terms of what I've achieved, both literally/physically and emotionally, in that time. It really made me think. So here you have it (with special thanks to GB for the inspiration - and everything else xx)...

1) I really feel that there's a Before T (BT) and an After T (AT) - by which I mean a time that existed before T's accident and has now ended, and a time that has existed since T's accident and continues to exist (although within the latter, there are many many subdivisions of time). I've never experienced such a clear separation between two states in my living memory. I feel like I've been reborn, like I've lived two separate lives. One life ended. Boom. And at that exact same moment, a new life began. A piece of me died alongside T, that's for sure, but I believe a piece of me was also infused with our combined energy and was reborn. I started again. Everything in time AT is new, yet unlike our infancy, I am aware and can recall things from this period. An infant can't remember the first taste of its mother's milk, or the thrill of saying its first word, or the highs and lows of learning to walk. But I can remember all the equivalent firsts in my life AT. And that's kind of weird. Time AT is vivid and brash and clear and bright and, I guess, shiny and new. It's hard to articulate.

Like infancy, there have been highs and lows during this rebirth and infancy. There's been lessons to be learnt and a lot of trial and error. There's been tears and laughter, tantrums and nightmares. Olds, news, firsts and never agains. There's been hope and dreams. Comfort and being comforted. Being oblivious to time and space - simply existing. There's been nourishment, both physical and emotional, and subsequently there's been growth and progress and momentum. And there's been an awful lot of love. At times it's been the worst time of my life; at others, ironically, the best. It's been horrendous and amazing in equal measure. And this fascinates me.

So life AT is a the other end of the spectrum to life BT. It's a whole new life. As I said, everything is new - tastes, smells, sights, feelings. Everything. This sometimes makes it difficult for me to remember what my BT life was really like. How did it feel to live that life and not know any differently? How did it feel to be that girl - that vulnerable, naive, emotionally-dependent girl who worried a lot, and overthought and wasn't really living life in the purest sense of the word (some of which still applies to the girl that exists in time AT, btw!)? Yes, life BT will forever be etched in my memory, and in my heart, but I find it hard to imagine living that life now. And equally, life AT obviously doesn't involve T in a physical sense. He's not in the photos, he can't share the memories. Through no choice of my own, life AT is all about me. Like an infant one day recognising its reflection in a mirror, I'm learning to recognise me again, or maybe I'm seeing that reflection for the first time, exposed in the cold light of day without life's cotton-wool cocoon.

2) I often feel far far far removed from what happened two years ago. I feel like it relates to a favourite book or film. I have such empathy for the people this horrendous thing happened to. I feel their pain. I have such enormous sympathy for them. I can picture the aftermath, the exact sequence of events, the phone calls, the motions they went through, the emotions they experienced, the grief, the loss, the hurt. But nothing like that could happen to me. Not because I'm immune to bad things, but because I couldn't possibly have the strength to see me through the death of the person I love most in the world. Nor the strength and emotional resources to subsequently exist. And not just exist, but to seize life with two hands and shake it and run with it and taste it and smell it and really and truly live it. Increasingly accompanied by a smile and a peal of laughter. I couldn't do that. But, and please excuse the language here but this phrase expresses the sentiment exactly, fuck me, if that isn't exactly what I have done! It's difficult to correlate these two feelings.

Here's a quick update as I haven't had a chance to post much this week. School has been fine. I've taught a few lessons but just observed on Wednesday and Thursday. We've been learning about young learners (sounds like hard work but lots of fun!) and also had to write a 1,000 word essay on how much grammar, if any, should be taught. We were directed to a really interesting website about a certain teaching approach this is materials light - it's called Dogme (http://www.thornburyscott.com/tu/portal.htm). The logic is that the teaching should be structured around what's happening in the students' lives, not doing role plays out of text books that are of no interest/relevance to the students. In its most extreme form, the teacher plays the role of a facilitator and is an equal within the discussions that arise in the classroom. I found reading about this approach really interesting and there's definitely some aspects of it that I would like to experiment with given the chance.

I also found out this week that I can stay in this apartment for August if I want and also that I've got some work the week after the course finishes! A women is coming to the school for a solid week of English lessons (7.5 hours/day!), paid for by her employer. As this is so intensive, and because one of the English teachers is off on the Monday and Tuesday of that week, I'm going to be sharing some of the teaching. The scary thing is I've been told to act like I've been doing it for ages (er, ok...) but also the lessons I take will be very long as they'll be half a day each. I'm hoping that her level will be basic enough for me to have lots to cover and that the focus will also be on the office world (she's a PA), so we can do lots of flight and meeting bookings, emails, letters etc. I'll also be following someone else's lesson plan so that could make it easier. Or not. Anyway, the school obviously has confidence in me so I'm just going to go with the flow as it's great experience.

Last night Chri came for dinner (and he loved it - even the nibbles and the beer - and he wanted the recipe for the main = result! I gave him a choice of carbonara or couscous and he went for the couscous, so I managed to avoid making carbonara for him, which I was actually a bit nervous about!). It was so nice having someone round and also having someone else to help fill my empty apartment. After dinner we went to see Jamiroquai with about seven of Chri's mates. The gig was amazing! I loved it and will definitely have to rediscover his music. I don't know his recent stuff and haven't heard his old stuff for years. I kind of thought he'd disappeared. The friends were nice. I got on really well with a French girl who lived in California for seven years so speaks fluent English. She lives in the centre of Nice and is in the process of divorcing her husband, so I've pinpointed her as a potential meeting for a coffee buddy. Two of Chri's Italian mates from Genova are staying with him this weekend, so they joined us too. The guy spoke English but the girl reckoned she didn't, but when she had to, she managed and we got on well together. I'm going to Chri's this afternoon so Massimo (the guy) will pick me up from the station and we'll all spend the weekend together. Elivera (the girl) is a runner, so I've been told to take my stuff. I'm very excited to have running buddies! Chri also told me that Massimo is a great cook. Even better than Chri, and that's saying something! I've asked to be sous-chef so I'm hoping to come away from the weekend with some more Italian cooking skills (I think my mum thinks I eat carbonara every day!). He was talking about doing something with courgette flowers last night. Get in!!

I'd been a bit low last weekend and Chri had been a bit down last time I saw him, but he more than made up for it last night and put a smile back on my boat race. He loves winding me up and was really on form last night (and this morning in fact). We keep saying that after 15 years I should know better than to take the bait, but more often than not he gets me. Damn him. He also makes me laugh as he's adopted the word 'Marra' and has taken to calling Newcastle 'Chateau neuf'.

Right, I better think about making a move. School starts at 10h30 this morning and finishes at noon - hardly worth going in, but I suppose I better make the effort. I'll try and post again this afternoon, but if I don't manage to then I just wanted to thank everyone who has contacted me already with their kind words and thoughts. My lovely Ma was looking at flights to Nice when she thought I might be on my own this weekend, lovely sis has sent a card - thanks lovely sis! - and I've had lots of emails. Thank you all; you don't know how much that means to me. As always, please raise a glass or two to T this weekend and use this time to reflect on how you could take inspiration from him to try and live your life less ordinary. He'd really like that. I've had random visions of T dancing to Groove is in the Heart by Deee-Lite this week, so I might also play that while raising my glass. That will make me smile. To T then, who I will love and miss until my dying day.

A day in my current life

Yesterday was a chilled out day. I woke up when I woke up, wandered to my local beach (about a 15 minute walk - how amazing is that?!), refused to pay £12 for a lounger and parasol so lay on the pebbles in the sunshine, paddled a bit while contemplating how I'd get beyond the breakers. Decided against it. Had a banana baguette then had a stroll along the prom when it clouded over. I came back home, did some washing, snoozed in my reclining chair in the sunshine on the balcony, read some of my book then did 62 lengths in the pool. It was a quiet day but I quite enjoyed that quiet.

Today we didn't have to be in school until 11. I had grand plans for going running before breakfast but was too tired and ended up snoozing my alarm for about 40 minutes. I had my yogurt, muesli and nectarine and made my way to the station to catch the 10h38. School was good - I got feedback on my last lesson (which I thought went badly but the feedback was quite positive) and planned this afternoon's lesson, with a student I hadn't taught before - a young lad (20ish?) who is maybe pre-intermediate level. I'd been told he liked football so structured my lesson around that and it went like a dream! He came into the classroom and one of the first things he asked me was where I was from (I love students that ask me things - saves me trying to coax things out of them!). 'Newcastle', says I, 'Do you know it?' 'Of course', he replies. And you can probably guess the rest: 'How do you know Newcastle?', 'Because of the football team', and there was the lesson introduced absolutely naturally and with minimal effort from me. We brainstormed lots of football-related vocabulary and I think both he and the two observers were impressed with my football knowledge, especially as I'm a mere girl! I also told him that David Ginola used to be my heart-throb (tricky one to explain that!) and that I spoke French with him back in the day. I then probed him a bit about his team using the vocabulary we'd just learnt, then he read a text about the Mardona incident. This allowed me to introduce the past tense and I got him to complete a couple of exercises about that.

It was my best lesson by far. I think because it was natural, and a topic that we were both interested in, so we were both motivated and enthusiastic and that rubbed off on each other. One of the tutors told us that we should remember KISS - keep it simple, stupid - so true. OK, you're not always handed subjects like this on a plate (imagine if he'd liked rugby instead of football - I'd have been screwed!), but making it less formal and more of a chat with the one-to-ones is definitely a good tactic. Then they don't feel like they're learning and it's not too much of a chore for you as the teacher. Get in!

Chri also called and we made a plan for Thursday, so that got me excited about that. He's getting to mine by about 7pm, I'm cooking for once (already panicking! I jokingly suggested I could make carbonara so he could assess my progress but then he said maybe I could make it at the weekend for the rest of the Italians instead. Er, I don't think so!), then we'll head off to the concert, which isn't far from my apartment. I've been invited to Italy again this weekend, along with some of his mates, so I'm looking forward to that too. I really like being around people I know that look out for me and make me feel included - like part of the family. Maybe especially when it's a guy too, I'm not sure; thinking out loud a bit. I guess that's one of the many things I miss about not having T in my life and my male friends help recreate some of that to some extent. As I often say, I also like being liked, so it's also important to me that Chri feels he wants to share his weekend with me and introduce me to his friends (or 'marras' as he now says non-stop!). I haven't told Chri yet, and I'm not sure it'll click with him, but it means I'll also be there for the second anniversary of T's death. I'm pleased I'll be around people and I may or may not tell them, depending how I feel. But that's OK with me. The important thing is that I know and will be remembering, and that I'll have an old friend there for support if that remembering gets to be too much. I can't actually believe that two years have passed or comprehend how they have passed and I've survived, but I'll leave that analysis for another blog entry...

Anyway, this evening I caught the 17h09 train home and sat on the balcony reading my book for while. The weather had been nice all day but suddenly clouded over so I decided to go running. And that was great too! I ran away from the sea, towards the mountains to explore my 'hood a bit. I picked up signs to Renoir's house and centre ville so followed them and ran up a huge hill to Renoir's house. It's just over a mile from where I live! I love Renoir - my Dad had a book about him when I was growing up and I can remember looking through that and loving some of his work. If my memory serves me correctly, I also did a school project about him back in the day! I'm hoping to get to look around the museum before I leave but it was closed by the time I got there. I carried on, found the centre ville then ran towards the sea and back home along the prom. It was great running weather - not too hot - and I overtook lots of plodders, men and women, so that was satisfying. I was out for about 48 minutes and feel so much better for going. As always.

Tea tonight was salad on the balcony with a nice glass of red wine, followed by a rooibos tea and a square of my favourite chocolate that I can't get in the UK but can get on tap here - yay for that! I need to write up my review of today's lesson and will aim to get an early night as I haven't been getting enough sleep recently. (Last night's lack of sleep was due to the fact the wind woke me up at 3.20am - I think I've said before that the wind bothers me at night and that I've read it bothers women more than men - and I suddenly remembered that I had washing on the balcony. I got up, took my mobile phone with me as a torch, rolled the shutters up a crack so as not to disturb my neighbours and combat rolled underneath to rescue my clothes (that hadn't budged an inch!). I hope nobody saw me!)

Dreams are funny things

Last night I had a dream in which T and I were walking hand in hand through a built up place (it was actually a bit like Canary Wharf). T had still died but we were somehow back together again, talking about how it felt. T said something really succinct about the fact that he doesn't miss the children we didn't have, as that didn't happen so it's not important and we can't dwell on that, but he does miss the feeling of talking about having children together and planning for a future, as well as just sharing each other's lives, thoughts, hopes and dreams. It was the strangest thing. I was just walking along nodding my head in complete and utter agreement with everything he was saying. At last I'd found someone who understood how it felt! But of course he would understand, we would both have been in this together. It's hard that this one person who gets it and who knows exactly how it feels can only come to me in my dreams. I hope he visits me again soon. I woke up feeling dazed and confused, but while I was coming to and before I physically moved I could still feel his hand in mine and it was the best feeling on earth.