The little boy on the plastic tricycle stops outside the half-shuttered window. “Bello!” he roars. “Bellooooooo!” His mother shushes him. “Not like that. Call him gently.” The boy looks up, uncomprehending, before shouting again. His mother rolls her eyes, but … Continue reading
I hope this isn’t jumping the gun, but I think I may have found ‘the one’. Through a website. Yes, seriously. The best thing was that it wasn’t even me that did the running – I got an email out … Continue reading
On Easter Day in Florence there is a tradition called the Scoppio del Carro – the explosion of the cart. After the mid-morning mass the priest lights a dove-shaped fuse at the main altar of the duomo. The ‘dove’ then … Continue reading
Lizzy is mid-sentence when she takes in a sharp breath and stops talking. Her voice lowers. “Too loud,” she mutters, succinctly, nodding towards the two women behind Ali and me. “We’re being *commented* on.” Shortly thereafter the two women pick … Continue reading
I’m standing in a muddy field in Somerset in the pouring rain, listening to bands, dancing like a loon and drinking cider. You might think I was at Glastonbury. I’m not. I’m in Galhampton, a little village that you’ve probably … Continue reading
At first I thought the snotty nose was because of the cats and dogs – and I’m not just talking about the rain. I’m in England, land of cream teas, cricket and dreadful weather. To be fair, Wimbledon’s on at … Continue reading
Welcome to the 1 July edition of the Carnival of Europe! We kick off this month with a submission from Zhu, who presents The French And Their Bathrooms posted at Correr Es Mi Destino. She says, “I first noticed the … Continue reading
Bloody hell but it’s hot. The coach was air-conditioned, but stepping off it at just after 3pm on a June afternoon in Calabria is like being wrapped in a suffocating pillow of heat. Within a minute the sweat is pouring … Continue reading
One from the archives today. It seems serendipitous after visiting (and loving) Ortigia last week that almost exactly two years ago I was on another tiny southern Italian island connected to the mainland by a bridge, walking around and drinking … Continue reading
Bright pink flowers spill down the wall onto a whitewashed deck. At night it’s a bar, but this afternoon it’s just another of Ortigia’s many beautiful courtyards. They’re hidden around every corner. Sometimes there are dogs in them, sometimes cats, … Continue reading
