It was an unexpected and divine gift to return to a place I had loved so very much, and experience a feeling of coming home. A 28 hour journey consisting of three plane rides (read MANY airport hours) three taxi trips and two train changes with all our luggage ended with our arrival in the charming seaside town I'd recommended so enthusiastically to my friends to a deluge and dangerously dark skies, rivalled only by poor New York at the moment. My poor old heart did skip a few beats, and I prayed as the flash flood welcomed us that this wouldn't mean my life flashing before my eyes, as I had watched footage of last October's floods in the Cinque Terre with no small amount of trepidation.
However, fortune favours the brave, and whilst we were treated to seven kinds of weather, often on the same day, we had the most marvellous time imaginable. My friends, thankfully, loved everything about the town and terrain and people as much as I had previously, and good times were had by all. We walked, cycled, swam, ate, drank, laughed, gossiped and some of us (no names mentioned) flirted outrageously with the men we met, but it was all good, clean fun. Although, did I detect a tear in the dishy hotel manager's eye when he kindly brought our luggage down on the day of our departure!?
If Italy is the seat of civilization, why wasn't I born there? The pace of life in our little town moved to it's own gentle rhythm, mostly by bicycle. Locals cycled, walked and threw themselves into that alluring Ligurian Sea with gleeful abandon, when not shopping for their daily provisions. Yes, just enough for the day's meals, either at the little speciality shops turning out THE most delicious focaccias, pastas and antipastas, or the covered morning market for the occasional heavenly rotisserie chicken and locally produced cheeses and fresh veggies. And no kids, sorry to say, there was simply not enough time to do justice to all the gelatos, although we really tried! The soft lilt of Italian wafted up to my room at all hours, as did the scent of pine on our mountain hikes between the villages.The freedom to do just whatever we wanted, freed from the constraints of family life and responsibilities (which we all love so well) was equally intoxicating. It was a holiday made in heaven.
Despite the language barrier and being armed with my trusty phrase book marking me out as a tourist, I experienced nothing but kindness and courtesy. Struggling to carry my bike up some steps from the beach one day, a lovely young lady simply came to offer me a hand. Forgetting my purse when I nipped down to buy one of the irresistible riso salads for a light lunch from the excellent supermarket downstairs one day, the young cashier waved me away and said I could pay later.
The wine tasting we had booked at the local co-op was not only complementary, but a meal in itself with all the delicious breads, olives, anchovies and tapenades provided.
More than that, the spirit and joie de vivre of my friend's 77 year old mother (aka GG, the Glamorous Granny) were infectious and they both made for most enjoyable holiday companions. Youth is clearly all in the mind and a well preserved and exercised body. Yip, I'm hitting the gym in the morning.
Not only that, delighted as I am to have had such an overwhelming response to the return of Suzy Q (take a bow, and thank you all very, very much!) I'm signing up for Na-No-Wri-Mo, encouraged by your feedback to try to finish a book I started some time back. No pressure, just 50 000 words to be written in November. So let's hope afflatus is with me, and hope you will all be waiting for the Christmas Edition of Suzy Q in mid December - bumper edition I promise.
Till then, you take care of yourselves, keep me posted on your lives please, and hang in there, as I'll be back...
With love and thanks for all your support and encouragement,
Suzy (the ever wannabe writer) Q!
xx
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