The lost pieces

It has been a long summer that can pretty much be resumed by this picture of my sweating by 40 degrees and painting the house

Or also this one of me collapsing on the floor by posing 80m2 of pvc strips.

Which was how I for the most spent my time between July and August.

So I missed an interesting article I wanted to write on my birthday about how when you’re after 30 you start stating “where I was 10 years ago” instead of “where I was last year”. Then it came to my mind where I effectively was ten years ago. In Paris. Ruining my sentimental life for the years to come due to a single kiss. Which made me realize over the years that Dawson’s Creek was fucking right: don’t ever kiss light hearted. NEVER.
My vacations had been very short. But good anyway.

The girls have been in Paris for the first time, then in the mountains, a very long and good summer for them. So the rest doesn’t really matter, right?

We will be moving in two weeks I guess and there is nothing done for now. I will improvise like always.

Oh and I read very good books.

Currently this one:


Piccole avventure Romane

L’altro ieri ero nei pressi di Piazza Venezia dopo aver camminato tutta la mattinata, faceva caldo, c’erano troppi turisti in pantaloncini, ho deciso di andare a Rione Monti a pranzare in bel posto che conosco, lontano dalla folla.

Guardo l’itinerario sul telefonino, 22 minuti a piedi e 21 con l’87 preso proprio in Piazza Venezia. Sono le 11.53, il pullman è previsto alle 12.04. Immagino una certa flessibilità oraria ma decido di prenderlo. 

Sono passati esattamente 5 bus della linea 64 (e va bene va in Vaticano sarà rinforzata), 6 della linea 40, 3 della 60, 4 autobus diretti in due distinti ospedali e due 72.

Solo dopo tutti questi passaggi, una signora romana arriva al mio fianco e mi chiede “scusa ma per caso è passato l’87? O l’81?”

“No appunto lo aspetto da mezz’ora”

“No perché c’è stata una perdita d’acqua in corso Rinascimento e c’è una deviazione ma non capisco dove fermi”

Mi fa vedere l’app dell’azienda trasporti che annuncia, testuali parole:

“Causa danno idrico Viale Risorgimento le linee 80,81,87 (e altro) vengono deviate in uscita Corso Vittorio Emanuele II, in entrata Via Cavour”

Capiamoci. Non lo capiva lei che la prende tutti i giorni quella linea, figuriamoci io che sì, conosco sia il corso che la via ma che non ho la minima idea del percorso della linea 87.

Da un 40 scende un gruppo di controllori, decidiamo di chiedere a loro. 

“Ah quindi c’è qualcosa, vedi” dice una al suo collega. Nessuno di loro è in grado di capire l’indicazione di deviazione data sull’app. Una di loro decide di usare il controllo satellitare, si scopre che 81 e 87 stanno ormai arrivando, probabilmente il corso è stato riaperto. 

Un signore si mette ad urlare che sono 90 minuti che aspetta l’87, lui ovviamente l’app non ce l’ha, avrà 70 anni, il biglietto nel frattempo gli è scaduto e di allagamenti e deviazioni non sapeva nulla.

Prendo l’87, faccio le mie misere 5 fermate, attraverso i giardini in salita, infine arrivo al Carrè Monti. Sono le 13.33.

Adesso, ovviamente sarei dovuta andare a piedi. Ovviamente gli imprevisti possono accadere. Ovviamente quello che ne penso di una capitale con marciapiedi collassati in buche d’acqua durante un’estate di siccità non merita neppure dissertazione. 

Ma il vero problema è la comunicazione. O più esattamente la mancanza di. Perché non è possibile che nel 2017 a Roma, capitale d’Italia, capitale della cristianità, capitale del turismo mondiale oserei dire, in un interscambio tanto importante quanto Piazza Venezia, non ci siano i tabelloni ettronici che non solo permettono di dare informazioni sul traffico e i passaggi delle linee ma permettono anche di segnalare eventuali deviazioni o comunicazioni che un cittadino (e peggio ancora, un turista) DEVE poter avere per gestire i propri spostamenti in città.

On the matter of people’s strangeness 

It’s six and an half in the morning and I’m on a train. I just finished a beautiful, beautiful book, I’m reading the newspaper and wondering why do people have such ability to disregard what’s appropriate or not on the matter of food habits. The other day I went to a coffee shop, ordered a coffe and then asked for some eventual gluten free sweet. I was answered “we also have a large choice of vegan ones”. I wondered how could someone compare a diet choice with a health condition that wouldn’t allow a specific gamme of products.

Then some days later I came across an article about how gluten free diet was starting to be a trend, then again, in the “lifestyle” section of the newspaper. Well. Being celiac is not a lifestyle, it is not a choice, it is very serious malabsorption condition. My child would be underweight and underdeveloped since we figured out what her problem was. And I would suffer tremendous muscles and ligatures pain for years along with being subjected to very heavy medical treatment before I came to know that my Behçet disease was the result of being celiac without knowing it.

So who on its right mind would generalize that the gluten free living is a trend? Gluten free products are not only extremely expensive but also for the most, not particularly tasteful. Anyone who has try them once know it. Gluten free bread is for the most unbeatable. Same for a lot of other products. 

So it irritates me lot to have pair with the vegan diet, which I know loads about, having being vegan for six and more years, back when it wasn’t fashion at all, all costed lot and you were looked at as an alien or a complete moron. Being vegan a choice, being on gluten free diet is not, let alone if you’re stupid enough to subject yourself to such treatment for masochist purposes.

All that been said, I’m planning two days in Venice for the Biennale.

Unpopular opinions

About places I went to or places I’m not interested to visit.
. Madrid/Barcelone

. Sardegna

. Puglia/Calabria

. Japan

. New York (except for Broadway. I would totally go there then head immediately back to a plane for Albuquerque)

. Pacific Islands of any kind
Places I would totally visit or go back to

. Albuquerque (for me NM is the most beautiful and peaceful place of the world)

.  Newfound Land

. Switzerland 

. Big Sur 

 . Carlsbag

. Jena

. Normandie

. Filicudi

. Acireale

. Saulieu


The header has no connection with the post apart from me watching last Criminal Minds episode.

Rome is just perfection. Got time to simply walk around, no museums nor curches,this will come next time.

Spring was all around. And Spring is the best time of the year, finally seeing flowers and green again.

I discovered that lovely boutique that may become one of my favorite in which I will stop by any time around, gifted myself a wonderful spring season dress.

Also went outside the walls, where time seems to have stopped a long time ago.

Ate in strange but easy and nice places.

And got finally reutined to my sister.

What else could I ask for?

Nel dubbio mena

Niente, io di lei non mi stanco. Anzi, non ci passo mai abbastanza tempo. Ormai ho deciso, me la vivrò piano piano, pezzo per pezzo. 

Sei riuscita a creare una sorta di rapporto intimo in così poche volte ormai. 

(Osteria dell’Angelino)

(Carré Monti)

E poi posti nuovi che sai resteranno attraverso i viaggi.

Angoli nascosti

Incursioni segrete.

E scoperta di alcuni tra gli ultimi esemplari rimasti di una specie in via d’estinzione. I librai. Quelli veri.


Just wanted to share some pictures from last week in Milano. I can’t go travel much around by this time of the year cause I’m all alone with my girls but at least I have little spots of moving then and there.

Nice breakfast with good teas for nice people.

And then in the middle of any street at any time.


Words, beautiful ones.

Hors Saison

There’s Something I always loved about going to sea places in Autumn or Winter. Not that I particularly like those times of the year, but there is something there. When it’s raining, when it is cold, cloudy and so. The sea look different, it takes back its places, washing away men’s presence. 

I can be positive, winter by the sea is my favorite place and moment to be. The air is filled with salt and wildness. 

When only the people from the place are around. 

And you have time to discover cosy little places you wasn’t able to find while in the summer, when the town was filled with tourists and you minimized your presence around to avoid mass confusion.

And you spend time inside, cooking all together for example, typical winter mountain food like Tartiflette. Which also mean teaching your kids those recipes that will one day become part of your family patrimony.

And you have time for indoor time spending, sharing moments that get losts when you’re rushing everyone at the beach to find a “decent place” for your parasol. Like piano lessons. 

The trotters 

Traveling doesn’t always mean that you go discover far away and exotic places.

I traveled a lot in my life, first of all because I was an Italian expat in France for 15 years, living 900km from the first frontier and 3000 from my hometown.

Then because I met people from all around that nice country of mine and beyond.

For the last five years I’ve been coming back and forward to the Côte d’Azur where my mom and now my grandma live.

Today was one of those days. Wake up at 5. Took a taxi, then a train to meet the girls and their father at my mother in law.

Traveling with kids is something else. We sang, a lot. We ate, a bit. Then eventually they fell asleep, just in time to miss this.

You know what they say. Home is not where your home is, but with the people you feel home with. We had a day of spending time all together, we were tired but happy.

Now it’s 10pm and since the house is packed with people needing quality sleep (kids and elderlies), I’m doing what I’ve done my whole life, from being 6 to being 21, sneaky reading after curfew.