Pegli, Genova – Italia
Pegli, Genova – Italia
Yesterday I’ve been at the beach: it was a beautiful day and I wanted to draw under the sun, by the sea. While there, I collected these pieces of woods you can see in the photo: the summer season is still far and so the beach was not yet cleaned, and covered in them. As I was putting them in a box, I thought to take a photo and then I posted it on Facebook; it had a lot of likes and this made me happy: we can have the ultimate technology, smartphones, internet, tv, the obsession for our bodies, wardrobes full of useless clothes and shoes and a society based on a lot of wrong ideas…but we will always be amazed by some pieces of wood coming from the sea. There’s still the same old human kind under all the horrible things and thoughts we wear, and this makes me happy.
While I was wandering in the web I found this beautiful photo (unluckily the copyright was not specified, so if you know who is the author write me to add it, please) of my city, that made me dream with my eyes open: the colours, the sea, the atmosphere…or better: one of the many atmospheres that you can breathe in different spots of Genoa. I am born here, but above all my soul here was moulded, there’s no doubt. Of sea and wind, of infinite horizon and stones, of colours and scents, of sweetness and roughness.
Mentre vagavo per il web ho trovato questa foto bellissima (purtroppo non era indicato il copyright, quindi se doveste sapere di chi sia scrivetemi pure per aggiungerlo) della mia città, che mi ha fatta sognare ad occhi aperti: i colori, il mare, l’atmosfera…o meglio: una delle tante atmosfere che si possono respirare in diversi punti di Genova. Qui sono nata, ma soprattutto è stata forgiata la mia anima, non c’è dubbio. Di mare e vento, di orizzonte infinito e pietre, di colori ed odori, di dolcezza ed asprezza.
Two nights ago me and my friend Davide were going around Genova’s centre bored, so I had the idea to take him to a place he never been before, also one of my favourites: Camogli.
Camogli is a little sea town at just half a hour drive from Genova; in the summer it’s full of people, but at this time of the year tourists are gone and you can enjoy better the deserted historical centre on the sea and the small port. Continue reading
Yesterday in Genova there was a transports strike, so we couldn’t reach the centre of the city and decided to go for a walk to Pegli, not so far from where I live.
Going there I decided to pass by the place I grew up. When I say that I grew up by the sea, probably many people think I mean “in a city by the sea”; actually I mean truly by the sea, passing every day my hours on the shore playing with sand and sea. My grandfather was a fisherman and he built by himself kinda a hut on the beach (as you could see there a lot of them in the past) and he was keeping around there his boats, that had names of members of the family: it was a great joy and honour when he was deciding to go out in the sea with the boat with your name. He was going to fish in the middle of the night and when I was waking up and couldn’t sleep, my grandmother was taking me at the window and showing me a little light far, far away, lost in the black sea, telling that was my grandfather.
My parents were working both when I was little and, from when I was 5 years old, me and my little brother were staying most of our time at the grandparents, and so to the beach. There we were playing free: I was mostly building big cities in the sand, using all kind of things I was finding on the shore to decorate them; with plastic bags covered in sand I was creating lakes and seas where I imagined were living sirens and fishes, and on the water were sailing ships made of squid bones. My grandfather built us a swing on the sea and I was passing hours on that too, up and down between water and sky until I was dizzy. In summer we had a little pool also where to play, and we were having all together big dinners under the stars. Our toilet was a broken bathing hut – red and white striped, with the number on it – that my grandfather found somewhere on the beach, carried there probably from the sea in winter, and he restored it for that purpose: I always loved it 🙂
So yesterday I went there after a lot of years; my grandfather died when I was 15, so 17 years ago, and after that no one was going there anymore, so we gave away his property. That was very sad to me, I felt I lost a big part not only of my life, but of myself, and, in a manner, that we betrayed him. Nonetheless I felt I wanted finally to return there, where I passed so much of my time as a child. Everything was gone and changed, different from what was my memory. All other fishermen huts were gone, with the death of friends and enemies of my grandfather (he had a very particular and strong character, so no surprise he had a lot of enemies too 😉 ). But a piece of my grandfather’s hut was still there, with the structure of the swing reminding me good times. It’s no more fishermen’s territory, the boats are inside enclosures and the beach is dirty since no one is cleaning it anymore. But the sea is still there and I think I saw an old eccentric friend of my grandmother sitting almost in the same place she used to, drawing with watercolours under the sun.
Memories are sometimes all is remaining to us, and I’ll deal with it. Ciao Nonno ♥
17th September 2013
Spiaggia di Multedo – Genova, Italy
I come from Genoa, an italian city by the sea. Like every person grown by the sea, I often say I couldn’t live without it, and there’s a big motivation for that: looking at the sea is like looking at the infinite. You can just sit there and watch the horizon line fade into the water while your thoughts flow in the air around you. If something is annoying you, you can just look at that vast sweep of water and imagine to go away, far, so far you can’t even know. Well, at least I done a million times and that made me feel better. It’s the feeling of the infinite, of the unknown, the unseen that makes you feel better. The sea means no barriers, no walls…just freedom.
So the point is: here where I am now I can’t see the sea. It’s stupid, since Ireland is an island, but from here I can’t see it. I went by the sea in Belfast, but it was strange: grey and rough, full of rain, covered in black clouds…made me feel uncomfortable.
Yesterday, going around Lurgan, I suddenly found myself on a bridge, and under it there was the railway. Looking at it I saw it was going far, far away and I couldn’t see the end of it. That reminded me of the sea, even if it wasn’t really exactly the same feeling. Still a bit of infinite in the middle of Northern Ireland…I took a photo of it.
Lurgan railway – Northern Ireland