San Lorenzo's Cathedral was built to hold Saint John the Baptist's ashes ... ashes that arrived in Genova after the crusade in 1098.
The lions that guard the entrance have been a point of fascination for me. Today, searching for the cloister of yesterday (wrong church), I discovered the animals around the corner behind my favourite lion.
I love the way they seem to be attempting to peer round the corner ...
The Palazzo Ducale, once the seat of the oligarchic government of the Republic, today it is used to host the most important art exhibitions and major events.
My journey to Genova in May, despite being far too short, was as special as every other visit I've made to that exquisite Italian city located in Liguria. But the kindness of strangers was quietly overwhelming and intensely appreciated. Perhaps it was all more condensed . I don't know. It was a special visit. Crazy busy but filled with people I want to write about in the days ahead.
I've put off writing about it in detail because I didn't want to miss out any stories. Now ... so much time has passed, I fear I have forgotten some things.
It's time to sit awhile and remember.
I arrived via Rome and landed in Genova late afternoon. It was raining and grey - the only grey day I had. In the days that followed, it was summer. The journey from Brussels had been long but this time I was staying with Francesca and her lovely family out at Arenzano. Paola's apartment was under renovation back in the city.
So I followed the train signs out to the airport exit doors but then the signs peetered out. I turned a few times, sure it was me who was somehow lost, before wandering back to a counter where there was man who seemed like he might be open to questions from this lost woman.
He was lovely. He started talking of the bus, then a taxi, then walking ...discounting each idea as he went. It's not much more than a kilometre to the train station, an easy walk normally and so he drew me a map but then looked at the rain and wasn't happy. The situation was resolved when a friend or collegue of his called out a ciao. He called him over to us. This lovely young man listened to the story and before I knew it my luggage and I were in his car.
He had un po inglese and well ... my lack of ability in other languages has created laughter all over the world. But we talked a little. He weaved through the streets near the airport then parked next to a footbridge that went over the railway tracks. He unloaded my luggage and then, much to my horror, carried my heavy bag all the way to the top of the stairs. I was so grateful and a little bit mortified.
We said our goodbyes and I made my way down to the train station. I bought my ticket.
Flustered, tired ... who knows really, I had forgotten how trains worked in Italy. Platforms, directions, stuff like that. Eventually I asked at the office and another lovely Ligurian said, come with me, and so I did. I followed her under the tracks and up onto the correct platform.
Honestly, I know how trains work there. I use them often but it seemed that there was a brain-freeze going down and I was in its grip. She sat with me, we talked a little. I wished I had studied Italian. I appreciated her unobtrusive kindess.
I arrived in Arenzano and Francesca picked me up and whisked me off to her place.
Now ... Francesca has lovely friend called Anna Lisa. I'm sure of the 'lovely' because Anna Lisa had offered to cook dinner for Francesca and her family that evening.
I took a photograph or two while she whipped up a focaccia al formaggio, as per the photograph at the end of this post. There was other food too but I was so tired by then, and I did nothing but race about madly during those 5 exquisite days in Genova, I've lost the rest of the memory of dinner. I suspect that the warm focaccia di formaggio was so good that I have fixated on it.
I also suspect that the kindness of Ligurian strangers had overwhelmed me, filled me up, knocked me off-balance a little.
And Francesca's family ... Beppe, Cesare, and Emma. There's so much love between them that it is truly lovely to spend time in their midst.
And so I arrived. Genova, May 2013.
Update: if you use a reader to read my posts, sincere apologies for the series of edits. Strong antibiotics, 3 espressos, and no sunshine or warmth ... it all messed with my mind.
And Stefano, grazie mille for the editing advice. It was a rather grave error, falling to the 'No exceptions' category.
We shopped for our monthly supplies, Colruyt and Makro. Later, we slipped away to our favourite secondhand shop by the airport and voila, found the beautiful orange bicycle for Miss 'Almost' 9 ... it has flowers. It is a little early, as her birthday is actually 4th of July but it was meant for her. We're sure.
Then I slept.
Last night I was out with Lucy and Ruth, there was some red wine involved, much laughter and many conversations. And then, cycling home after midnight, I learned that using my phone while riding a bike is to be avoided. Only my finger was hurting this morning. I was lucky.
Tomorrow I'm off to the Westhoek, really really early, to photograph a special moment in the lives of one of my favourite Belgian families. I love this kind of photo-shoot, the kind that involves extended family. I love attempting to capture not just the day but the emotions and connections too.
Let's see how it goes. Meanwhile, there was this poppy in Piedmont and I was there photographing it, just a few days ago.
One of the things that really struck me about Diana and Micha's B&B were the details ... exquisite details.
I felt concentrated, like a kid playing in mud, using flowers and twigs for decoration. I had light and colour. I was that lost during those moments when I played with my camera ... lost in the light, and the details.
This is an odd photograph and yet I think I like it. The light struck me but perhaps I saw the mosaic first. I don't remember but it's like this. You can spend hours in each room, outside, and in doorways, just noticing the details, one by one.
