The Hallelujah moment.
As we approached New York, the sun broke through the clouds Very new beginnings-esque. I have to admit I was teary as I watched the water sparkle under us. I was arriving in the place I’ll soon call home. This is step one. I’ve come over to meet my US colleagues and will spend the first week in my new home.
So many cabs, so little time.
I’m in a New York cab and I’m trying to sound like I know where I’m going. My landlord and new flatmate gave me directions so hopefully I’ll make it there all OK.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be feeling. I’m in the in-between place. I had my leaving do where I cried too much, packed bags to come to NY for a week and then I’m back again to the UK as I sort my visa. But it’s exciting to have a bed and a roof and new shops and coffee haunts to try out.
I know this isn’t going to be easy nor is it going to be the same. I’ve moved continents before and though I do see some people from back home still, it’s mostly my family and a few good friends. There are so many amazing people in my life in the UK, I don’t want to lose that connection to them. I love that I can go out in London and run into someone I know.
But maybe now that we’re in a different age, I’ll keep those connections. Facebook, Twitter, Skype, etc, etc, will make those people closer than they would have been even 5 years ago. It’s just about making the time. And having space to be with new friends and old. Hello New York. Pleased to meet you.
A view from my office - how more New York can you get?
One of the charms of Cinque Terre is the coastal walk between the 5 towns of Monterosso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore.
I read that it took 4 and a half hours to go from Montesorro, where we were, which is the start of the trail, to Riomaggiore. We try on our first day to tackle the trail. A coastal walk should be pretty easy – only a 90 minute walk and we’ll be at a less Jersey Shore-esque beach (we hope) and there we’ll get some sun. We don our bathing suits, dresses, and as for footwear, Ann chooses sandels and I go with flip-flops.
Walking partly up a mountain, we are slightly out of breath but hopeful until we come up to a little hut and a sign. 10 Euros to walk the trail and it can’t be done in flip-flops or heels. With a sigh we head back down to the beach at Monterosso where we unwisely bake our skin to a shade of lobster red.
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On the train to Monterosso Al Mare, we sit in a train car with a group of older Italians. One asks us where we are going. When she hears Monterosso, her nose crinkles in slight disgust and says “that’s where all the Americans go.” I took it as an insult to us – oh she thinks we’re Americans does she – but what she actually means I won’t truly understand until we arrive later that night.
In Monterosso, the ratio of Italians to foriengers is 1 to one million. Of course an exageration but not by much. And most of them are American and most of these Americans are those you might see on the Jersey Shore. Big muscled, overly tanned, tribal tattooed, greasy haired, gold chained, beer-pong playing loudmouths with (but not always) backwards facing baseball caps. All in the middle of a preserved Italian paradise – the Riviera Ligure.
This is the view from our window.
But it is countered by this view.
And this view.
At least we get to relax and Ligure pasta is very tasty. It looks something like this.
We left Friday night for Venice. It was one of those days. My cousin Ann, who was coming with me on a 10 day Italian adventure, got locked between my front door and our inner door, which resulted in a broken window and a few cuts and scrapes to get back in. At the airport, the flight was delayed by 45 minutes and when we hit the ground in Venice, we missed the bus to town by a minute so had to wait 40 for another.
But it didn’t matter. We were in Venice and about to start 10 days of touring, eating, walking and trying a bit of the local wine. We were greeted off our boat (the local transport is all on water) by Andrea who led us through the winding streets of Venice to the apartment we rented for 3 days. It smelt of old and stagnent water but as it was the smell of a majority of Venice we quickly got used to it. But we had a fridge, stove, a sitting room and bedroom with a very powerful fan. We were set. Read more…
It is officially day 4 of my trip away to write. This is probably the first time I’ve ever done this. So far I’ve been semi successful. I’ve written the outline to a short film (that I should have done a month ago), wrote 2 blog posts and completed the first 11 pages of a screenplay. I also played an entire game of Civilization, taught Karen how to play Cribbage, watched the first episode of Treme and re-read Salinger’s “For Esme – with Love and Squalor.”
I’m currently in the sleepy little village of Relleu which is about an hour from Alicante. They are known for their orange, lemon and almond trees and I was lucky enough to catch the end of the almond blossoms. I’m also lucky enough to be eating oranges directly from the trees. I can’t even describe how amazing they are. All I know is no other orange will compare. Read more…
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