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.