Liz Sproat 22/11/2023 Liz Sproat 22/11/2023

Life is beautiful

It really is, its twists, its turns; and when you really live it, it is especially beautiful.

This journey is drawing to a close. We’re about to leave. Stanley comes to school on the morning of our departure. Ever since I told our teacher about him, she’s been dying to meet him. On this, my last lesson for now, I learn more about my fellow students and my teacher. I was due to see La Boheme on the trip and even shared that with my class. Sadly, an orchestral strike put those plans to bed. But not before my fellow student, Kay shared that her husband was playing the lead role of Rodolfo. If I had expressed amazement and incredulity, it was nothing compared to the delight learning this evoked in our teacher. She was popping. Expressive Italian arms came out in full force; sharing their appreciation with her wide and happy smile. But then she stopped. Heading towards me, she sat on the desk lightly placing her arm around me. She was about to tell her story. Her husband had been a famous cellist, they had two successful sons, now grown, together. But from the way she spoke, it was clear he was no longer with her. A flutist had caught his eye and whisked him away. I don’t know what she saw in me; perhaps that same look of loss and newfound contentment. Far from sadly reminiscing, she too, was content. Pride at her sons’ achievements, now working as a lawyer and doctor, overwhelmed whatever regret could have taken hold. She inspired me.

But our time in Florence was at an end. We picked up the car and headed to the vet to get Stan’s tapeworm treatment and paperwork for UK immigration. They had never seen a Sealyham before in the vets and he created something of a stir.

Ironically, google maps was taking us home the way we had come. The first leg of our journey was to get close to the Frejus tunnel on the Italian-French border. Remember that we’d passed through the Mont Blanc tunnel on its last open day before a planned closure that was due to last until mid December. Despite the different tunnel, the road sent us north via Genova. We even passed the Rapallo turnoff; leaving me wondering where the time had really gone. Seeing the sea at Genova reminded me of all those Italian words I had learnt for the colour blue. None of them seemed to do justice to that wonderful sight. I was sad not to be able to stop and take one last dip in the ocean. The time for that had passed; in the time we’d been away, sultry, sunny days had inevitably shifted to Autumn chill.

Turin signposts started to litter the road and with it a new geography. As if the theatre had prepared its best stage for us, upstage the backdrop was wheeled into place. Painted to depict the setting sun, alpine mountains towered above Stan and I. In front, a valley as flat as one could imagine. As the earth moved underneath our car, it felt like getting to those mountains was to be a dream. Despite the milometer faithfully counting up the miles, we never seemed to get close. And, then, suddenly we did!

It’s ironic that on our return, we should end up breaking the one commitment we’d made. Namely, that our accommodation should be free. However, it’s hard to find one night stops so we’d capitulated and signed up for a booking.com. I won’t lie. In my head I had built this into something more than reality could ever provide. I envisaged a welcoming arrival, fires on, a glass of wine being handed to me as staff brought the luggage and attended to Sran. This was not our reality! Gravere was our destination. It’s not like I hadn’t done my homework. Concerned that it might be very remote, I’d messaged ahead to enquire if restaurants would be open. The answer; a clear affirmative.

As we climbed the hill, I had that sinking feeling. Sunset was over and the temperature dropped rapidly to reflect our elevated height above sea level. Clearly, we had entered no man’s land. And by that I mean there was no-one here! It was beautiful, but we were very much alone. We called Alberto, who explained a neighbour would be there shortly to let us into the bed and breakfast. One minute turned into two, then five and ten. We were chilly. She arrived with a buoyant stride and smile that we could not match. As we walked into the twisty alleys of the deserted village, we began to feel genuine concern. Not least, how on earth would we find our way back to the car and where on earth were those fabulous restaurants? Fortunately, folks around here spoke French. Suddenly expressing more complicated emotions became easier, and I explained we thought there would be somewhere to eat. What could she do? Nothing of course as she kindly suggested we call Alberto.

It was fully dark when we entered Alberto’s deserted home. Inside was a sight to behold. Suggesting the place was cluttered would be an understatement. I was reminded of my friend Leigh’s love of feng shui and how much fun she would have had organising this place. A stove provided the heat in the kitchen and living area. The whole place had the promise of a heart, but that heart was sleeping as too few souls were there to make it beat. Despite the solitude of it all, I could see that heart and knew it to be a place of warmth. How I longed for that experience of happy mountain wanderers gathered with me to take their overnight rest. But it was just Stan and I!

Calling Alberto, we learnt the restaurants were a ten minute drive away so, he agreed to let me make a meal from his well-stocked larder. Though we were tired it intrigued me to discover what I could muster up from this treasure trove. And what a treasure trove, there was no space left unstocked. Thoughts of snow confinement flooded my mind. If it were to snow this night, we would be absolutely fine. Stan liked it too, not least because the shelving was stacked floor to ceiling. Within seconds, a cardboard container of full fat cream lay spewing on the floor as Stan lovingly licked his find. Not ready to give up on our Italian dream just yet, I prepared Cacio e Pepe the way the restaurants in Rome had served us.

Despite the isolation, we slept soundly until about 11pm when Alberto came home. You know you’re exhausted when a slight surprise that otherwise would have set you in a spin results in a sigh, a shift in position until sleep takes over again. Sunlight brought a new sense of the place. First off, Alberto was charming and he’d prepared the best breakfast of our entire trip. Outside, the mountains towered majestically above us and we stopped to survey our scene. Whatever the expectation, this had been a wonderful stop.

All that was left to do was to get on the road and make it to Daix, near Dijon. But today had new surprises in store for us. As we got closer to the Frejus tunnel the warning statement - Change Key Battery - changed its tune. I had decided in my wisdom this was slightly annoying but highly unlikely to cause real problems. How wrong could I be? The new statement was No Key Found. Instinct kicked in, as long as the engine is running we will be OK. Problem number two, we were running out of petrol. Coming off the mountain and heading back to the main road involved kilometres of winding roads, so genuine concern was taking over any enjoyment of our surroundings. We pulled into Oulx and one of those unmanned petrol stations that were so popular in Italy. This was our reckoning. Turning the engine off would leave us paralysed in this sleeping ski town. It did have some advantages though - restaurants, a pretty centre, people. Engine running, I wound down my window and called to a man who’d appeared from one of the private garages that skirted the petrol station. Like many in this area, he also spoke French so I was able to fully explain our predicament. I’ve always envied those typically guys (sorry ladies) who seem to be able to just fix things. He instantly opened the key and pulled out the battery, disappearing for ten minutes. On his return he walked back to his garage as my heart sank assuming he was still on the hunt! But, no he’d gong to get his scissors to open the battery pack he’d procured from down the street. I had nothing to give him but a five pound note and my gratitude, we were back on the road.

Onwards through France, we stayed one further night only in a lovely Homeexchange near Dijon. The original plan was to head back to the chateau of our journey to Italy, but by now, I wanted to be home. Ahead of us lay a five hour drive to the Eurotunnel and then the two hour drive home to London. I knew I could do it, and I did. Just five miles from the French border, a spectacular rainbow emerged on the horizon, it wished us well as we left European shores for our island home.

Being home feels good. Stan was crazy excited and spent a good amount of time expressing himself with zoomies!

I’ve thought a lot about what I’ve learnt and why I did this. But before I get to that, why did I write all this? Knowing you’re all out there gave me purpose; you helped buoy my spirit and report back. Thank you for being there! As my mum cares for my step-father, I reflect that she can’t make a trip like this. I somehow wanted to bring my journey to life for her. She’s been there with me way before I started out. She witnessed the trauma, challenge and sadness that accompanied the years before the trip. My adventure with Stan has shown how far I’ve come and the new person I am. I’m grateful for those challenges. Without them I wouldn’t be where I am. So, what’s next? Who knows, but one thing is for sure.

As Mum taught me, you can do anything you want in life!

And you thought your kitchen was well stocked!

Liz Sproat 18/11/2023 Liz Sproat 18/11/2023

Pensieri di casa

Thoughts of home

Stan is clearly wanting to catch his last, lingering looks at Florence from the apartment we’re staying in. I’m not sure what he’s thinking about our impending departure. When I found him sleeping in the suitcase, I thought it was a sign he liked the open road. I’m pretty sure he’s happy as long as we’re together.

That said, in our last days of Florence, I’ve had to do some things alone. After all, I couldn’t miss the opportunity to visit the Pitti Palace and the Boboli Gardens. What better way to reflect on what home means to me, than experience one of the most palatial homes of all?

The Pitti Palace is gargantuan. A bloated beast of a building that leaves you with no doubt about the power and influence of its historic residents. The Palazzo Barberini and Palazzo Doria Pamphilj are mere terraced houses relative to this place. Unlike many powerful people in our society, the Medicis had a relatively modest start in life as traders and farmers from the Mugello region, North of Florence. It reminds me of a saying from my part of the world which might make you smile; where there’s muck there’s brass! But the truth is that following his Uncle’s guidance, Giovanni earnt his money in good old-fashioned banking along with wool trading. He founded the Medici Bank of Florence, and actively engaged in the Guild of Finance along with that of wool. These guilds provided the kind of protective, hereditary and, no doubt, nepotistic, trading that allowed some families to thrive exponentially. Like the Barberini’s and Borghese, the Medici family lay claim to four Popes and strategic marriages to key families across Europe. Not all the descendants of Giovanni fared as well as his son Cosimo. I’ll leave you to do your own research if it interests you but members of the family were variously exiled and murdered. Others fared very well, with Cosimo’s granddaughter becoming Queen of France and her son Louis XIII.

In the fifteenth century, they were the wealthiest family in the world.They even built the Uffizi I visited earlier in the week as their office. Imagine calling the Uffizi work; they avoided getting wet on their commute by building the covered bridge, the Ponte Vecchio. Their patronage of the arts and science is well documented and there is no better evidence of it than taking the time to walk around the Pitti Palace. Inside, it sits somewhere between the artistic focus of the Palazzo Barberini combined with an insight into everyday life like that of the Doria Pamphilj. They believed the investment in art would help them secure their rightful place in the celestial world. So, it’s no surprise it’s packed with Raphael, Rubens, Botticelli, Caravaggio, Titian … the list goes on! The artwork is truly wonderful. The portrait of the court buffoon Dwarf Nano Morgante was as a result of a challenge laid down by Vasari questioning the relative merit of sculpture versus art. To prove his point, Bronzino painted a double-sided nude of Morgante, whilst it may have proved the point in its day, the painting lay unnoticed in the Pitti until 2010 when it was restored. Whilst the mocking of disability is rightly no longer de rigueur, different depictions of Morgante can be seen throughout the palace.

Outside the Medici’s lavished their gardens with the same care and attention as that of the interior. Beyond the stunning natural beauty of the garden a copious amount of sculptures, fountains and grottoes provide additional visual stimulation. It’s easy to imagine, the wealthy Medici’s taking their daily perambulations and pausing to discuss the latest additions. Autumn hues had taken over as I made my way through it this week. Golden trees caught my eyes as much as the man-made ornamental features. That said, as the sun set, they provided the perfect complement to one another. From here, high above Florence, you have the most magnificent views across the city. How must the Medici’s felt as they surveyed this sight knowing that under their patronage they had created a world rich in science, art and culture?

What do you do after visiting the Pitti Palace? It was hard to imagine how we could spend our last evening after such a lovely afternoon. We’d done our planning months before and were on our way to MamaFlorence cooking school. I’m so glad we had this opportunity. I’ve never made pasta so where better to learn than here in the home of pasta. We made four courses that we’d later eat paired with some delicious wines. Filippo was our chef, Patrizia his sous chef and Filippo’s wife chose the wine. Apple, Pecorino and Cabbage Salad kicked the meal off. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help myself and recounted that famous Waldorf salad scene from Fawlty Towers. The American couple, Carmela and Peter who completed our group of four smiled politely but I clearly did a terrible job of explaining the joke! Two different types of homemade pasta and their sauces were prepared - tortelloni with a spinach and ricotta filling served with a butter and sage sauce; and pappardelle with a rich pork sausage and beef ragu. For dessert we were treated to panna cotta with a blackberry coulis. And yes, I really did make all that and it tasted amazing.

Like most of the experiences I’ve had in Italy, it was all about the people. Filippo, Patrizia and I shared a passion - music! Whatever band I could think of that I loved they knew it. The rest of the guests were happy to let us share our tracks on spotify experiencing that joy of shared appreciation and discovery. Peter and Carmela had their own story too, they were on their forty year wedding anniversary and seemed very much in love. It wasn’t hard to see they were Italian Americans originally from Manhattan but now living in California. When we suggested they ought to renew their wedding vows, they told us they’d already done that three times! Their philosophy on trips; namely that they should learn and experience new things certainly resonated with Amanda and I. It was fun to learn of their life together. Carmela, though 65, was one of the youngest members of a dance troup. Peter had spent his career as a make up artist in Hollywood.

One thing we all agreed on was Filippo’s philosophy about food. However fancy or simple it might be, it needed to be made with love! It certainly felt like he’d captured that love with his wife and two daughters in their home. He’d ditched the world of restaurant owner to balance better his work and life, gaining more time with family.

I guess that’s partly why going home is interesting to contemplate. My feelings, like Stan’s are mixed. It will be wonderful to be back in the community and with my friends. But with my son away at university, my concept of home has changed pretty significantly. One thing is for sure though, tomorrow we’ll be back on the road!

The palatial Pitti. Though this display is not original!

However, Napoleon felt the need to upgrade the bathroom facilities

Liz Sproat 16/11/2023 Liz Sproat 16/11/2023

Ultimi giorni a Firenze

Last days in Florence

It seems surreal to be close to departure day. When the trip began, it lay before me like a never-ending adventure. Now, we are just days from home. Still, we have much to tell you of these last days in Florence.

We went back to school. This time, a much larger, award winning one called La Scuola Leonardo da Vinci. There are around ten students in the class and we are truly diverse. From the oldest, a 69 year old Brazilian woman, to the youngest three Palestinian boys from Southern Israel, aged 18. Their families haven’t traveled with them, but they tell me they are safe, which is good to hear. I’ve learnt a great deal this week and am sad I won’t get to try out my new language skills for longer here in Italy. There is always next time.

My friend arrived, but not before I had a coffee with the friends I’d made on the bus in the rain. We met in a coffee shop close to Santa Maria Novella train station and told our tales of love. Almost ten years separated each of us; Selena in her early 30s, Shagufta about to turn 40 and me, just turned 50. Despite the years that separated us, we could relate to each other’s stories. Be it marrying the love of our life, losing that love, or looking for it. We found strength and humour in our tales and, no doubt, vowed to carry forward new learnings because of our serendipitous meeting.

It wasn’t long before my oldest friend from university was due to arrive. Since my coffee had gone on longer than expected, it was time for an aperitif. I’d agreed to meet Amanda in a bar when the Grand Hotel Baglioni was suddenly in front of me. The roof top terrace was far too tempting to pass up. As quickly as Stan had clocked the snacks that went with the aperitif, I selected a table outside. Amanda was not disappointed and nor was Stan. As we strolled into the city after our drink, she shared that same perception I had - that Florence is far better by night than day.

Amanda and I have known each other a long time! On this trip, we go to school and eat dinner together, but we also do our own things. So, armed with renewed energy, I made my way to the Pitti Palace only to discover that on Mondays it is closed. In its place, I chose to visit the Duomo - which is one of the most impressive cathedrals I’ve seen for a very long time. It is amongst the largest in the world and, like many, its appearance has changed a great deal through history. The first stone was laid in 1296, but the current exterior decorated with intricate marble flowers and geometric shapes dates from the 19th century. Inside, its stained glass windows cast beautiful shards of light on to the intricate marble floors. The huge walls of the cathedral are relatively undecorated compared to the many churches I’ve visited in Italy so far. It’s hard to give you a sense of the scale of the place, it is both 90 metres wide and tall and 153 metres in length - it’s huge! The main part of the cathedral is free, but you can choose to visit the museum, dome, bell tower and the remains of the ancient basilica on which they built the current cathedral. The cathedral is known as the Santa Maria del Fiore (Our Lady of the Flower). Florence itself means the city of the flower. The Florentine lily is its emblem.

In the evenings, I’ve seen groups of girls dressed with floral head dresses having fun with their friends. At first, I assumed them to be on a hen night - in preparation for their forthcoming nuptials. Eventually, I plucked up the courage to ask one of the less inebriated women what it was all about. She laughed when I mentioned marriage and explained it was a celebration for graduation. The tradition started at the University of Padua almost two hundred years ago and has since spread across all of Italy. Further research unearthed they make the headdress from a laurel leaf - a symbol of success and achievement; the colour of the ribbon that goes with the leaves indicates the subject studied. It felt many years since Amanda and I had graduated from university; it was fun to reminisce about how we had celebrated that moment; I’m not sure it had many correlations with this ancient Italian tradition.

So, if I had learnt the meaning behind the naming of Florence, what of Florence itself? In my ignorance, my perception of Italy was that of a country with a significant unified history. I was wrong. The united Italy we think of today was created in 1861 - albeit that the inclusion of Rome and Venice occurred one decade later after the Franco-Prussian war. Learning this gave even more meaning to the map I had seen in the Uffizi illustrating the Tuscany that the Medicis ruled over.

After the Roman empire that ruled over a considerably larger territory than that of Italy today, both the Spanish, Hapsburg, French and even the British had ruling powers over parts of Italy at one time or another. Florence has its UNESCO status as a World Heritage Site as a result of its perfect depiction of a Renaissance city. Whilst it is no doubt a historical site, it is the continued commitment to that cultural and artistic past that sustains its special status. The arts and crafts that made it special historically remain present today in the winding back streets. Even the building techniques that built the city have been retained to preserve its historical significance and to contribute to its future.

Armed with that knowledge it was important that we achieved a Florentine eating and drinking experience on our trip. The night before we’d indulged in wine tasting at the Hotel Deglia Orafi in its rooftop bar. The wines were produced in the hotel’s own vineyards in the Chianti region. We learnt that for a wine to carry the Chianti label it has be predominantly made, 80% precisely, from the San Giovese grape. There are three quality tiers relating to the length of time the wine is aged. My favourite was the riserva. Whilst it had been a really fun evening, we got something else from that night - a recommendation for dinner.

Our waiter was clear that if we were to eat in Florence we had to try Florentine steak and that there was no better place to try in than at 4 Leoni. We’d actually tried to get a table there before but failed so when we went back again the waiter remembered us and we were in luck! I don’t think either Amanda or I had a great deal of confidence that we would be able to eat the minimim sized 1.3kg Florentine steak that we ordered. But having taken our seat we were committed. Fortunately we did not regret our choice as we savoured the delicious dinner. If you make it to Florence I’d recommend you give this place a try. What’s more it’s located close to Santo Spirito, a square that houses a church by the same name. Amanda loved this place since it is the location of a pivotal scene in one of her favourite books, Still Life. The area was renowned in the 14th century as a hotbed of political unrest. The church, whilst modest from the exterior, is a fine example of Renaissance architecture and well worth a visit.

Our plan for tomorrow is to visit the Pitti Palace and the Boboli Gardens and learn more about the most powerful of Florentine families, the Medicis. For now, Stan and I need to sleep!

Stan approved of the Grand Hotel Baglioni

The spectacular marble floor of the Duomo

Liz Sproat 11/11/2023 Liz Sproat 11/11/2023

Panorami toscani

Tuscan views

Not all the views we’ve experienced since we arrived in Florence have been intentional and not all have been welcomed! Take Stan’s view from the bedroom in our Homeexchange. My fellow Sealyham owners will know that steep steps signal bad news for Stan. As a throwback to his childhood years, he’s wary of steps that might strain his back. So he waits patiently each morning for me to pick him up and bring him downstairs. He wasn’t very impressed with this view either of my delicious ice-cream delivery from deliveroo. I ordered it before I realised my lovely place didn’t have a freezer - what is a girl to do?

That day I’d stolen some secret views away from Stan, this time of Michelangelo’s David. Ironic, because according to scholars Michelangelo worked on his masterpiece secretly, away from prying eyes, until January 1504. It wasn’t just the size of David that was unique, standing at over 14 foot tall, it was also that it focused on David before his infamous win against Goliath. Unlike many representations which depicted the bloody act itself, here we behold David becore the deed is done. He is the epitome of strength, the understated nature of his weapon reminding us it was intellect that won out against his seemingly unbeatable adversary. For more than three hundred and seventy years ,David stood outside the Palazzo Vecchio, replacing that other favourite I’ve spoken of, a statue of Judith and Holofernes! As such, David represented so much more than the manifestation of a story from the Bible. He embodied the might of the Florentine state and was a symbol of its willingness to defend its principles of liberty and freedom against all those that would seek to attack them.

You’d be forgiven for feeling that meeting David is like running the gauntlet with the most formidable of opponents, the tourist! But set apart from the main gallery is an oasis for music lovers. Here you can find the archive of musical instruments that the Medicis acquired through their lives. I loved this little gift that the gallery gives us. The story of the invention of the piano, is told. Its early manifestation looks very different from what we think of the instrument today. You’ll find instruments you have never heard of such as the hurdy gurdy, the serpent or the marine trumpet. Weird and wonderful, they are sure to delight. It’s a timely reminder of the power of patronage for arts and music and the important part the Medicis played.

After the richness of our morning, the afternoon proved more mundane, with highlights typical of our trip so far. Did I definitively tell you never to drive to Florence? No, well there it is, I have now. It’s a complete and utter nightmare. When we arrived at our place, we parked in the blue lines paying just under fifty euros for two days stay. This just feels wrong, so we had found a way to beat the system. We’d left the car in a coop car park in Northern Florence but needed to collect it to prepare for our move close to the Ponte Vecchio the next morning. In theory, this should be easy - a quick google search revealed the best public transport option to achieve our goal. But, it was pouring, not just raining, but rain of biblical proportions. As we arrived at the bus stop in good time, the queue grew longer and there was no sign of any bus at all! We got chatting to a Florentine woman, Selena, who explained that none of the buses arrive on time. Bus drivers in Florence have to spend too much money to qualify and don’t earn enough to live in the city, so there is a severe shortage. She offers to help us navigate an alternate way through the city to our destination - thank goodness she was there and took pity on us. As we chatted on the bus, we met a Pakistani woman, Shagufta who’d moved to Florence two years ago to provide her sick son with the best medical care they could. Despite the three decades age difference that separated us, we felt a bond. In that brief moment we shared stories of our lives that made us smile and, perhaps, just a little sad too.

It was a huge relief to find the car in situ where we had left it. To celebrate, we decided to get out of the city and headed north to Fiesole. From here, we could look down on the brilliant vibrancy of Florence below us. It was just a little spooky taking the car through the single lane roads that took us there. At each turn, I prayed that we wouldn’t meet an oncoming car forcing us to reverse. Stan was pleased when we reached the top. He couldn’t quite believe his eyes. All of Florence sparkled beneath him.

The next day, we moved to our tiny, but perfectly located, studio literally at the Ponte Vecchio. This involved yet another feat of vehicular access. I won’t bore you with the details but our plan was to escape from Florence from the day and visit Chianti country. We headed for Greve in Chianti and enjoyed a wonderful meal at Enoteca Ristorante il Gallo Nero; it was very good! I had just one glass of the Chianti Riserva which unfortunately prompted the need for a mid afternoon car nap. The car had other ideas; within a couple of minutes, with the door locked, the car alarm went off. There was nothing for it but to put the engine on and nap secure in the knowledge that the alarm wouldn’t go off. I swear I dreamt Stan and I were car napped though. Perhaps if we had had a fancy car than a SEAT Ibiza that would have happened! Thank God we are on a budget!

Arriving back in Florence, we were armed with that most crucial and sought after tourist resource; inside information! We’d been told that if we were lucky we might just get parked for free on Via dell’Erta Canina - and so we did! Simple, for free! Little did we know that this location and our perfect arrival time would serve up yet another gift, the Florentine sunset for the second time. As we gratefully got out of the car, we decided to join the steady stream of people heading up! We didn’t stop to ask where we were going or what it was all about, we just trusted in the journey. Boy, were we rewarded for having that faith. Stan was having his usual charming effect on passers-by. As we stopped to ask a lady to take our photo, she wanted to be in it with us. Who were we to decline and so this super-friendly woman from Bangkok will be forever part of the story!

We’d found ourselves at the Piazzale Michelangelo, where tourists came to observe the sunset. I’m glad we found this place. Although it’s busy, there is still a wonderful sense of space here. When you’re in the throng of Florence you can forget its magnificence. Standing back from it all helps enormously in seeing it completely. As we walked back down towards our home for the next few days, we passed through the Japanese Garden. Genuinely isolated, couples sat next to the silent monuments - it seemed to magnify their voices or stimulate my prying ears. Talk of the love they were in with another, or the love they could have had with each other and for one or two the love they shared. For the first time, I thought of home and reflected perhaps I’m ready to go back there. Stan, on the other hand, seems content to make his home my suitcase so goodness knows what that means for our future!

A special sparkly Florence after the rain

Liz Sproat 10/11/2023 Liz Sproat 10/11/2023

Cibo e Divertimento a Firenze

Food and Fun in Florence

Switching cities was hard. On our first outing Stan and I found ourselves at the steps of the Santa Croce. An American couple shared their love of Florence and reminisced about missing their Rotweiller dog, Razzle. We couldn’t connect. We were missing Roma! They liked the more relaxed pace of Florence, there are a fewer tourists here than in Rome. The scale is so much more contained and it is Renaissance picture perfect. Despite this, Stan and I were committed we would fall in love with Florence. After all, the first and only time I came here was on my honeymoon almost twenty years ago.

Back then, I remember being tired, exhausted from the festivities. Unlike Rome, I didn’t really get into the spirit of the place. As I phoned my son Hector, newly left for university, the sun started setting. That’s when I felt Florence, what a relief! As we turned around, the sun was setting on the Arno and we knew we would not be disappointed.

It didn’t take long before we experienced Italian kindness that is typical of our trip so far. This time it was at the butchers! We fancied some lamb - Stan didn’t really mind what we bought, as long as it was meaty! Broken Italian worked to the extent that the butcher, Mario, was picking up agnello. He seemed to be going the extra mile by adding a sprig of rosemary. I was delighted and it spurred him on. A copious (almost alarming) amount of salt was added, along with a smashed garlic bulb. All the while his daughter stood on, wryly smiling and proudly appreciative of her father’s work. She told me how to cook it; to cover it in white wine and let it simmer for thirty minutes. How did they know I am such a terrible cook? Of course, this prompted me to ask for a photograph. Immediately, he reached for his apron and tying it tight, he proceeded to reward Stan with his own pork dinner and added extra sausages for me. I can’t express how this moment felt. I also can’t share how wonderful the food tasted; though I can share a picture. From now on I know when it comes to salt; go for it! And the result, well delizioso, of course, I did as I was told!

Waking the next day, I felt a renewed sense of energy and excitement for the day. It’s hard leaving Stan behind to visit the galleries and museums but with the time I have it’s possible to be out a couple of hours and be back for him and for my work! It’s been fun coaching folks remotely from such a beautiful place. The Uffizi gallery doesn’t completely forbid animals, in fact they represent some of its most cherished pieces. The only problem is that they aren’t the alive kind!

Did I say that Florence was less touristic than Rome? I lied! Perhaps because it is a more contained city, I’m finding that the museums feel even busier than that of Rome. It’s been fun to watch the tour groups each with their own distinctive style. My personal favourite, the Japanese. All members of the tour wear a headset, so they move silently around the museum listening to their guide’s words of wisdom. This suits me perfectly as it means more opportunity to eavesdrop on the English speaking guides when close to something special.

Indeed, there is much to see that is special at the Uffizi. It’s like gorging on a twenty one course Michelin starred meal, until, like Mr Creosote you state; ‘Just another Boticelli’ before reaching your complete and utter capacity. A little part of me wished that more of the art had remained in the myriad of Florentine churches and villas it came from. That way the crowds would be dispersed and it would be an altogether more sedate experience. Yes, I do feel guilty for saying that!

Whilst much of the artwork retains a focus on religion, there are the occasional glimses into Greek mythology. A particular favourite was the painting by Piero di Cosimo depicting Perseus freeing Andromeda from the sea monster. In keeping with the theme of Greek mythology, Caravaggio’s depiction of Medusa painted on to a wooden shield is a sight to behold. In Renaissance time, the Medusa head was a symbol of prudence acquired through wisdom. Not surprising that the piece was commissioned by the Medici family back in 1598. Much like my learnings from Rome of the Barberinis, the Borghese and the Doria Pamphilj, I’m hoping to learn more about the most powerful of all Florentine families, the Medicis. I enjoyed dipping out from the crowds in an ante-room called the Hall of Maps. The Medici family goal in commissioning these works was to illustrate the might and power they held over the Tuscan lands. Look carefully and you’ll see that the mythology of the time is depicted too, with sea creatures basking in the ocean. Maps are particularly pertinent to me right now, and whilst in those days the reach of the Medici family was extensive, it is reminder of just how small our world has become.

Set back in a blackened room which you cannot enter, is a sculpture of wondrous beauty. Bernini’s Hermaphroditus takes centre stage untroubled by tourists crowding around. I’m sure many would look only once and miss the story behind it. The myth tells of an adolescent boy, the son of Hermes and Aphrodite who is beguiled by a nymph. In so doing, the Gods commanded that their two bodies become as one. Unique to this piece is the fact that, unlike everything else in the Uffizi, its provenance is not known. It only adds to its mystery.

If you need to take a break from the crowds, take a trip to the cafe on the roof terrace. It’s a fantastic place to get a roof-top view of the city. Try the Torta del Nonna which I believe translates to Grandmother’s cake - I can guarantee it tasted better than anything my lovely Grandmother ever made! Watch out for the birds though who are always on the look out for some action!

Walking back from the Uffizi, I was rewarded with a Florentian secret gift. A special place - once a convent, then a prison, now a residential hub and gallery. The installation within the basement of the former prison could not be more timely. As bodies clad in this pertinent fabric proclaim the value of humanity, love and peace! I didn’t have time to stop for a coffee in the lovely cafe of Le Murate, but if you’re looking for a different side of Florence I recommend you give it a try.

Mario, at the ***Macelleria Polleria Cirocco Mario***

Stan would only have started a fight with this Uffizi favourite

The birds, like the Italians, are very friendly

Artwork from a secret Florence, at the Le Murate

Liz Sproat 08/11/2023 Liz Sproat 08/11/2023

Come dire addio a Roma?

How do you say goodbye to Rome?

I won’t lie. I’m finding it hard. I knew before I came Rome was my favourite Italian city. Rome has that wonderful grittiness of a real city, combined with the richest history in all the world. It’s not the picture of Renaissance perfection like so many Italian towns and cities. It’s a raggedy collection of history across the ages and it’s totally captured my heart. But, leave we must!

But before we go, I have to share my final two experiences - starting with the Palazzo Doria Pamphilj and my favourite of all, the Pantheon.

Visiting the Palazzo Doria Pamphilj rounds out the story of the famous Italian families who jostled for position. You’ll remember we’d visited the most famous of them all at the Villa Borghese residence some years prior and we were too late to book a ticket this time round. On this trip some days before we had taken in the beauty of the Palazzo Barberini. Like the Barberini family, they achieved the greatest of stature at their time, with Giovanni Battista Pamphilj becoming Pope Innocent X in 1644. In fact, he took over from a Barberini Pope (Pope Urban VIII) - remember we’d visited their place a few days earlier. Like many families in history, the Pamphilj family also relied on nepotism to maintain this influence. Several family members achieved Cardinal status at that time.

When you first enter the Palazzo, you can be forgiven for feeling like you’ve entered an English country home. Not least, because the voice on your audio guide speaks with the Queen’s English. But also as a result of feeling like the focus is the home itself as opposed to the many artworks it contains. I liked this and it’s at the heart of how the Palazzo presents itself. All the artwork collected here is placed in the exact position it was when initially purchased. Some art lovers may be frustrated with the challenge this presents when attempting to view each picture in detail and with the perfect light. It’s important to remember that you don’t reach the main gallery area until after the bookshop. It’s at that point that my appreciation of the building shifted from the splendour of the spaces to the wonder of the artwork.

To get to the gallery involves walking through a series of rooms, including the ballroom. It was here that the temptation to take a twirl on the parquet floor was all too great. So slow was the circle I made with my feet that I am convinced it was imperceptible to those around for me. For one magical moment, I was transported through history, the orchestra played and my dance partner swept me off my feet! Oh well, we can all dream, can’t we?

Once within the gallery space, it really is a breath-taking! For me more so than the Palazzo Barberini. There are three Caravaggio’s (procured after his death) on display here. It should be noted that after his death, his popularity and therefore the price of his works depleted. Don’t forget Caravaggio had a colourful and violent life known for having committed murder. The family were shrewd investors, buying these artworks. However, I believe for the family it is the Velasquez and Bernini that steal the show. Placed into a special ante room, the portrait and sculpture of Pope Innocent X take pride of place. I learnt that Bernini’s style, unlike that of his contemporaries, focused on making the subject seem more human. That’s why in his sculpture at the Palazzo Barberini, the pope’s button is seen ever so slightly popping out of its hole. Here Pope Innocent is displayed with equal realism, crow marks around his eyes, showing him in his true light. The back story to Bernini’s sculpture drew me in in as much as the beauty of the object itself. Bernini was the de facto sculptor for the Barberini family. Because of the family rivalry, it is unusual to see him do this work for the Pamphilj. When Pope Innocent X came to power, the papacy was almost bankrupt due to the prior (Barberini) Pope’s excesses. Despite this, the beauty of Bernini’s work won out, and enthralled, Pope Innocent X swallowed his pride and commissioned the piece.

The Velasquez sits well alongside Bernini’s sculpture. It pleased me when the audio guide made the connection for me to Frances Bacon. This twentieth-century artist made over fifty different versions of the piece through his lifetime. I had seen these many times, but never the original work that inspired it. Pope Innocent X was in his 70’s when the painting was completed in 1650. He was renowned for his ugliness and as I research the painting I find people variously suggest the work reflects or masks his true likeness. What everyone agrees upon is the impressiveness of the work!

There are living relative of the Doria Pamphilj family and, a quick Google search, indicates that you can experience a slice of their life. One post shows a guest indulging in a Michelin starred meal there - not an experience I share on my visit.

My favourite of all the sites in Rome is the Pantheon. When I first visited there twenty years ago, I recall simply walking in and being amazed by what I found. Nowadays, you have to pay and if you don’t pre-book you have to queue! Despite this, my visit was just as perfect as that of two decades earlier. This time, I was blessed with an impromptu choral rehearsal in preparation for the mass that was to start later. Whilst the short bursts of song were glorious, the choir master’s constant repositioning of the choristers made me smile. Can you imagine the pressure of perfecting music within the beautiful Pantheon? Perhaps one day I’ll get the chance to sing here. I definitely know that I will be back.

Leaving Rome wouldn’t be right without saying goodbye to Lisa and Polpi. You’ve probably detected a theme by now of having an aperitif in a lovely hotel in all my stops. Earlier in the week, I had dropped into the Plaza hotel. I was drawn there since I’d remembered visiting New York thirty years ago and wanting to stay at the Plaza - there is no connection between the two hotels. The Plaza in Rome is a living, breathing, historic hotel. So precious is its internal decoration that the concierge told me they receive monthly checks to ensure nothing has been changed. When I had my coke there, it was completely deserted. The staff were delighted with my enthusiasm for the place showing my the breakfast room and taking my photo!

For my final evening I chose the Hotel de Russie. It presented the perfect opportunity to wish Lisa well and experience a little of the Roman highlife. It’s a more modern luxurious hotel compared to the historic elegance and grandeur of the Plaza. By the time our cocktails were complete, I realised I had time to capture those deserted shots of Rome I’d promised myself. So, at some speed, I went back to the Spanish Steps and, crucially, the Trevi Fountain. The latter, whilst not deserted, was beautiful in the evening light and far less crowded than my experience with Leigh on the day we arrived.

Io adoro Roma! I can’t wait to return.

The Gallery at the Doria Pamphilj Gallery

Liz Sproat 05/11/2023 Liz Sproat 05/11/2023

La vita nel parco Roma

Parklife in Rome

As all dog lovers know parks matter! Stan and I miss Clissold Park and our friends Sue, Nero and Lando. So, whenever we can we get a bit of park life in Italy. This time, we are very lucky as we are five minutes’ walk from Rome’s finest park, the Villa Borghese.

This Sunday morning, fathers and sons play football with the passion of Juventus. Runners circumvent the park in the November sunshine. Musicians provide a magical, musical accompaniment to an already perfect scene. Tourists and Italians blend almost seamlessly in enjoying the clear skies after the thunderstorms of yesterday. The best way to tell them apart is to observe the different driving styles on the many family sized electric pedal bikes. I had fun trying to guess the nationality by watching those that plan meticulously, map in hand, versus those that who squeal with laughter as they aimlessly make their way around. So far, it’s sounding much like any other park you might find anywhere in the world. However, this is no ordinary park - of course it’s not. Whilst it may lack the manicured finish of London’s finest parks, it more than makes up for it with the many historic monuments that appear at every turn.

Stan has enjoyed checking out the main sites. Italy’s armistice took place only yesterday, November 4th in 1918. It felt right that Stan show his respect at the monument to the humble mule that played an important part in Italy’s fight. If you think about it, it makes sense they were such a crucial piece of the campaign. Much of the action took place in the mountainous alpine north - in the so-called White War. More men died as a result of the arduous, yet stunning terrain than as a result of direct action.

The mule wasn’t the only animal on display, Stan wanted to know why the Italians seemed to like dragons so much. He’d seen them all over Rome - though he found these particular ones a little scary. So, I did a bit of research and learnt that the dragon is used along with the eagle on the Borghese family crest. Each of the main historic and often rivalrous families had their own crests - it’s fun to know which animal represents which family as you amble along Rome’s streets.

Onwards, and a new monument caught Stanley’s eye. Mum said she’d seen something similar when she’d visited the Roman Forum. This was a temple built in the spirit of the orginal in 1792 to celebrate Emporer Antoninus Pius and Faustina. These two were in power between 138 and 161, suffice to say Sealyhams hadn’t even been dreamt about at that time.

Finally Stanley asked if he could try to imagine what it might feel like to be immortalised in his own statue. We looked carefully, and he plumped for this podium and gracefully positioned himseld for his portrait. Causing something of a stir amongst the locals, I wasn’t the only one who wanted to take his picture!

By now, Stan was pooped and happy to settle at home for a well earned rest. I couldn’t continue the Villa Borghese theme by visiting the gallery itself since it was already fully booked. However, on Lisa’s advice, I made my way to the home of their rivals - the Barberinis. A set of three very beautiful bees adorn their family crest and you can also find jewellery depicting them all over Rome. This gallery was free and I was able to visit with just one day’s notice. If you haven’t been to the main monuments in Rome, it’s vital that you do book ahead. Fortunately, I’ve already seen the Villa Borghese so it was fun to go somewhere new. Like its more famous rival, the Palazzo Barberini has its fair share of masterpieces. Those that stood out for me included Caravaggio, Canaletto, Holbein and Bernini.

I’m firmly of the view that you don’t ‘do’ tourism and you don’t ‘do’ galleries. When you meet fellow tourists they will often ask, ‘Did you ‘do’ x?’ on your trip. It doesn’t irritate me that this is their word of choice. However, for me, it adds a degree of pressure on what ought to be an experience. It turns your holiday into a checklist or work to do list leaving you with a sense of inadequacy about all the things you didn’t do. In addition, faced with the pressure of seeing it all you can end up not really seeing anything at all. I know I’m blessed on this trip, I’ve got more time than I’ve ever had before to soak it all up. That said, I’d rather see one thing fully than a thousand at speed.

For that reason, I’ve chosen just one painting to reflect upon and it’s Caravaggio’s depiction of Judith’s beheading of Holofernes. You’re probably getting the picture that I admire strong women and Judith is amongst the strongest. The story goes that the town in which Judith is living is besieged by Holofernes. Judith cleverly escapes telling Holofernes that she believes him victorious and offers to entertain him in her camp. That night, plying him with alcohol, she gains her freedom and revenge by decapitating him. Whether or not her story is factually correct fails to trouble me. The Palazzo has three different versions of this same story told by three different artists. It’s fascinating to see how Judith is depicted variously as a seductress (barebreasted and with a coquettish gaze) or as Caravaggio does with a more realistic interpretation. Her furrowed brow seems to indicate a need to summon all her strength to carry out the heinous act as the withered maid looks on, bag in hand!

With the gallery behind us, Stan and I are off another local adventure. Lisa has offered to take us for an aperitif. And Polpi is coming too, Polpi is Lisa’s gorgeous golden retriever. Normally, Stan gets troubled by larger dogs but for some reason he just really loves Polpi and so do I. By now, the rain is pouring so Lisa offers to collect us in her car. This turns out to be an experience in itself. Polpi is Lisa’s best friend and normally takes pride of place in the front passenger seat. She doesn’t mind at all that Stan and I need to sit in her place, but it takes her a little time and a good old butt shove to get her to understand she needs to sit in the back.

We’re off to the Jewish quarter to enjoy a glass of wine and the lovely snacks that Italians provide with every drink. On the way, Lisa shares her love of Rome and all it means to her. She’s not a Roman, she comes from Emilia Romagna but you can tell her heart is in Rome. Stan and Polpi enjoyed the bread and roast potatoes but didn’t enjoy the butter beans at all. As the evening drew to a close, I got a glimpse of what it might be like to have two dogs - as you can tell, I wasn’t phased at all! On Lisa’s advice that evening I watched the movie, The Great Beauty, which tells the tale of an ageing Roman socialite. Episodic in nature, you’re left with a sense of the solitariness of life and a reminder to hold dear those that bring you joy.

The calm before the storm! Polpi in poll position

Stan showing respect for the humble hero of WW1 - the mule

Dragons and eagles are used as part of the Borghese family crest

Stanley takes his place at the Temple of Diana

Caravaggio’s depiction of Judith’s beheading of Holofernes

The blurryness only adds to the authenticity

Liz Sproat 03/11/2023 Liz Sproat 03/11/2023

Stanley si rilassa come uno del posto

Stanley relaxes like a local!

I don’t know why I haven’t spoken about the home we’re staying in until now. Perhaps I thought if I didn’t share anything about it, I might really imagine it was my home and not that of my new friend, Lisa. Often the places you swap with are second homes, so, by default, they lack the individualism that you get when entering someone’s home. And that’s what this place is, a home. One that is packed with personality. Everywhere you look, a story unfolds through the many paintings, photos, and plants. Mid-twentieth century furniture provides deliciously comfortable places to recline. The copious amount of books leaves me hankering ever so slightly for my own home. The decor elevates the term shabby chic to a new level and I love it. Stan does too! It’s not just Lisa’s home that has brought joy - she’s been so welcoming. We’ve never felt lonely in all our time here. That said, this is the day we move on from this lovely home, so reality hits - it’s really not our place!

Before we left, we thought we should indulge in a chill out morning. Most of us have things we’ve always believed we are no good at. I will spare you my full list, but right at the top is drawing. Growing up in the 80’s it was much more common for teachers to let you know what you weren’t any good at. Those perceptions can stick! For me, I know it’s a combination of an art teachers’ exasperation and the killer of creativity - trying too hard! I could write a book about trying too hard - don’t worry, I won’t. What I’ve found with most things, is that by relaxing and just being I almost immediately achieve a better result than when I try too hard. So it felt good to while away an hour trying, but not too hard, to draw!

The area we’ve been staying in is called Flaminio, it’s a district to the North of Rome known for its cultural and sporting history. It was officially established as a residential area in 1921. British people struggle with the concept of apartment living, though its popularity has risen, of course, in major cities. The apartment blocks built at the turn of the century are perfectly designed and constructed. They offer a gated haven for family life situated in wide tree-lined boulevards. Lisa’s terrace is an oasis, lovingly lit with pretty lights and populated with lush plants. Her beautiful maple tree named, Antonio, flourishes under her care. When the Olympic Village was built here in the 1960’s newer housing was erected for some 8,000 visiting architects - I joined a pilates class in one of them earlier in the week. They solicit a similar response from locals as that of many modernist schemes elsewhere in the world - if you’re an architect you will love them! I found this a useful summary of their history.

Since that time, the area has become the hub of cultural venues for a modern Rome. Architect Zaha Hadid’s stunning MAXXI Museum of Modern Art is across the road from where we stay. On Halloween, children played in its grounds, underneath its famous neon lights. That’s when these public spaces work best, when they are enjoyed, playing their part in the community they were built to serve. Whilst, I often feel conflicted about the 60’s residential schemes like that of the Olympic Village - the same cannot be said of this masterpiece. For those of you that don’t know about Hadid - she’s a woman! An Iraqi born woman who studied Mathematics at the American University of Beirut.

You don’t have to walk far, to discover yet another modernist masterpiece - the Parco della Musica designed by Italy’s own Renzo Piano. I found it quite hard to get that clear vista of both buildings that you get when looking at the wide, open position of buildings like the South Bank. Piano’s three concert halls look like giant armadillo’s circling around an open outdoor auditorium. I decided early on that the only way to experience them properly was from the inside.

Choosing what to see didn’t go exactly as planned. It was a choice between classical music and jazz. For those of you that know me, I have had a long-standing relationship both with jazz and modern architecture. Such was its longevity that, now that the relationship with the significant other that sparked it is over, I honestly questioned whether I ever liked them in my own right. For that reason, I selected to see Beethoven’s 3rd Symphony, however it was fully booked leaving me ruminating on whether or not John Scofield was a good choice.

I’m so glad I went. I’m so glad I could look back on my jazz musical memories fondly and recognise that joy had truly been my own. John Scofield played with the greats - in the 1970’s with Miles Davis and Charles Mingus. The last time I felt that chill from seeing someone so connected was in the 1990’s when Elvin Jones played at Ronnie Scott’s. Many of us love artists that have spanned a lifetime. Born before us, they connect to musicians that define a genre. Seeing them in their later years and appreciating all that they have seen, have done and can still do is humbling. John Scofield is 72 years old. I’m too humble and ill-informed to put into words this musical experience. What I would say, and perhaps this is true of all great musicians, is that instrument and musician appeared as one. Seamlessly connected creatures in pursuit of perfection. What I love about the improv parts is that each musician is on an adventure with their instrument, allowing the journey to unfold organically, confident in the knowledge that the right destination will be found and respecting each other’s narrative turn along the way. The two hours passed all too fast. In the concert, he played tribute to Carla Bley, a female composer who died last week aged 87. No doubt, I’d heard her music before but I’m woefully poor at remembering artists. It made me reflect on the oh so many female artists (in every sense of the word) that don’t reach everyday familiarity. So, whether you or not you like jazz, I hope this triggers you to think about those musical heros you love. And, if you find yourself reflecting that they are predominantly male - get onto google and you’ll probably find they were associated with a truly talented female artist too.

Whilst I’ve been here, except for checking in on Sky News and watching the occasional film linked to the trip, I’ve watched no TV at all! I’ve never been one to get caught up in YouTube or TikTok rabbit holes - apart from my first video posts of Stan on this trip. It’s proved something to me and will be one of my key reflections of the trip. There are so many creative ways to spend our time. Whilst, I won’t be foregoing televisual stimulation on my return to ‘normal’ life - I’m sure it will be a more balanced element!

It would be remiss of me not to mention that Lisa is an expert in this area. A journalist for RAI the equivalent of the BBC, she wrote a book called ‘Eight Seconds” and did a TEDX talk about it. She explores our love/hate relationship with social media and shares our brains now have a cut off point beyond which we get distracted. I haven’t counted but I’m pretty sure reading this post is taking you over those 8 seconds!
So if you’ve got this far, then you’re doing well!

We felt connected to the message of the neon lights

Stunning lines and secret vistas at the MAXXI

Please can we stay here, I like it so much!

Liz Sproat 01/11/2023 Liz Sproat 01/11/2023

Stanley impara a conoscere l'amore

Stanley learns about love!

If you’ve been feeling our joy when reading about our journey, I’m fairly sure we are radiating it every day. That’s the only explanation I can think of as to why the universe seems to present so many connections as we travel around. Many of these are linked one way or another with love! Now, Rome is actually known as the Eternal City - I can’t imagine what would be happening if we’d been traveling to Verona or Venice. These two cities are most naturally associated with the most powerful of human emotion.

Even going to the local shop, we noticed a lovely young Italian couple engaged in discussion across the road. Her arms were resolutely folded and the man appeared animated, in the midst of a charm offensive. He spotted Stan and I lingering just a little too long on the picture they presented. In Italian, he called out to us, much to my embarrassment. Not only could I not understand him, but I’d been caught out people watching - one of my favourite pastimes. Despite this, I wanted to know what he was saying, and explained, ‘I’m English, I don’t understand.’ He said, ‘I was saying something beautiful to you. I want my girlfriend to know she is the most beautiful woman and I love her very much!’ Quite how Stan and I could help with this public declaration of love was another matter. We told them they looked bellissimo, but secretly hoped that the man had not betrayed this woman he professed to love so much!

Early that evening, Stan and I stopped at the Piazza di San Lorenzo, Stan wanted me to know he was absolutely there for me as his best buddy. He knew it was different being alone again and it was his job to be the perfect dinner date. I wouldn’t normally encourage Stan to sit at the table, not least because it can cause a few raised eyebrows. However, he was the perfect gent - giving me the space to enjoy my Hugo Spritz, whilst whiling away an enjoyable hour.

Then we were off again, with that carefree spirit that adventurers carry so well. It didn’t matter that we got lost on the way back to the tram. If we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have met Gianluca and Federica. But there they were in the narrow alley that artists frequent behind the Villa Borghese and off the principal thoroughfare. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t looking at the art. Most folks were packing away and it was their dog that captured Stan’s eye. She was so black that at night they placed a neon collar round her neck so that she couldn’t get lost. I got the distinct feeling that Stan was enamoured with her and whether she was wearing said collar or no, he wouldn’t have lost sight of her for a second. It was Federica and Gianluca’s story that captivated me. And Stan had the same effect upon them. Gianluca had been an antiques collector, but, in Federica’s words, had given it up when he started to collect neurological illnesses - both Parkinson’s and Multiple Sclerosis. Of course, we always see ourselves in others’ stories. For me, I thought of my mum and stepdad and how they are navigating his struggle with Parkinsons. I saw that same resolute commitment to each other, despite the adversity they faced. That is the mark of true love. The fact that Gianluca had turned his attention to creating art from the symbol of the love - the rose made it even more poignant. Thank you Gianluca and Federica for being happy to share your story. Stan and I wish you well.

In Western cultures that are dominated by logic and reasoning, it’s easy to turn off our appreciation and expression of love. It’s hard to do that in Italy as evidence of it is literally all around us. And no more is that the case, than a visit to the Spanish steps. The Spanish Steps’ most famous story of love is both fictional and unrequited. It is a key location in the filming of the movie Roman Holiday. The story follows a princess, Audrey Hepburn, who experiences a day of freedom from her royal duties and falls in love with Gregory Peck. He is a journalist, initially intent upon scooping a story about the young royal. He certainly gets a story, but in the spirit of the love they share for each other chooses not to share it with the wider world. It’s hard to imagine that narrative these days in our kiss and tell culture. Their love story does not end well, as Audrey Hepburn chooses her royal duties over and above her brief, but intense, feelings of love.

Being at the Spanish Steps in the middle of the day, it’s hard to see it as a romantic destination since it is swarming with tourists. But there is one place where you can experience it in a more meaningful way and it comes with its own story of unrequited love. Yesterday evening, to refresh my memory, I watched for the first time Bright Star, Jane Campion’s movie about the life and untimely death of John Keats. I’d studied Keats at university, but I had shelved it in the deep recesses that only time creates. I had forgotten the story of Keats’ love for Fanny Brawne and how, impoverished, he could not make her his wife. Their romance blossomed on English soil, but it was to Rome his friends sent him to escape the worst of the English winter. That was to be his resting place - as he died at the tender age of 25 from tuberculosis. The museum is wonderful, blissfully quiet as the tourists tour unaware of the story that played out on the steps they come to see. If you come to Rome, frequent this place. Whilst Keats is undoubtedly my favourite of the Romantic Poets, the colourful lives of Shelley and Byron played out here. Whatever you know, and I am sure you know more than I, you will see the parallels with our world today and learn more of their adventures.

Here, in all its glory, the Bright Star poem:

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,

Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—

No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,

Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

By now, I hope you know our journey has been far from contrived. We didn’t know these last two days that the theme of love would become so strong. It’s our last encounter with cupid’s arrow that really astounds.

I shall try not to offend any religious followers by saying that seeing the Pope today was remarkable and unforeseen but it wasn’t the same as what we found beneath our feet. We had not known when we set out that the Pope would be present at the Vatican. Having already visited the Sistine Chapel some years ago, and knowing that taking dogs inside was forbidden, I felt satisfied with soaking up the atmosphere in St. Peter’s Square. I recall my first visit happening after a very enjoyable evening in a Roman jazz club, and that over indulgence had severly impacted my appreciation. In many ways, it was different this time. As we entered the square, there was definitely a sense of anticipation in the air. You can check if the pope is in residence by looking at the Papal Audience Schedule. That said, if you’d checked today you’d have arrived at 9am when he was due to hold his General Audience for which tickets are required. We were there closer to 12 - but, despite this, we felt something was going to happen. Members of the crowd could feel it too and there was a ripple of excitement when he appeared directly on the hour.

Jubilant and appreciative, the crowd dispersed. At our feet a photographer stared attentively at the mosaic stones and we couldn’t understand what captivated him. A small group of girls asked the question that was on my lips, ‘what are you photographing?’ There are over two million cobblestones in St. Peter’s Square and Stan and I had unwittingly stood next to the most rare of them all. The miraculous cobble stone is engraved with a single heart. It goes by many names and dates from the end of the sixteenth century. The myths that surround it are linked to Michelangelo’s broken love, to Bernini never having found love or that of a woman’s love for her husband who was sentenced to an untimely death. Whatever you believe, I’m sure you’ll agree it is a very special piece of Rome!

What a pleasure to meet you Federica and Gianluca!

Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck on set at the Spanish Steps

If you can, see the Spanish Steps from the terrace of the John Keats house

Look carefully and you’ll see the Heart of Rome

Liz Sproat 30/10/2023 Liz Sproat 30/10/2023

Stanley vede le attrazioni di Roma

Stanley sees the sights in Rome

It’s funny to think that we are now starting to make our way back - the long way round - to England. When we reached Vico Equense, we were at the most southern part of our journey in Italy. Now was the time to turn the car away from the Italian seaside resorts and head for the big cities of Rome and Florence.

First stop Rome or Roma! Roma has held a special place in my heart since I first visited it in my mid twenties. Setting foot in a city, the feel of our adventure immediately shifted up a gear - we are in the big city and there’s so much going on. We’d intentionally decided to take in the sights on the first day as our plan after that point was to attempt to live like a local.

After the journey of the previous day, Stan was raring to go. It takes commitment to walk the main sites of Rome in one day. If ever there was evidence of the pluckiness of my lovely Sealyham, it was his efforts on this day. In total, he walked more than 20k steps - I was impressed with this achievement so imagine how Stanley felt! It wasn’t by chance that I chose Stanley as my companion. I knew he had that perfect combination of couch potato and fell walker - two of my favourite ways to spend time,

If you’ve never been to Rome, it is one of the most breath-taking cities in the world. We are staying in the Flaminia area of the city and so our entrance to the historic centre is via the Piazza del Popolo. In some cities, it’s hard to imagine how our ancestors may have experienced them. Not so in Rome and absolutely not so at the Piazza del Popolo. This wasn’t just the main route into Rome for us, it has been the primary entry point for centuries. As someone who grew up in the countryside, I can appreciate cities for their magnitude. Growing up in the Lake District in the 80s I can honestly say that whilst visiting London was within the realm of possibility travelling abroad to mega cities such as New York felt like a fairy tale. So, it wasn’t hard to imagine how someone back in the 17th century might have experienced it. Although back then it’s likely that there was significant building work going on, as many of the buildings were also being completed. Stan and I felt dwarfed in this square, humbled by its magnitude and excited for what lay beyond its majesty. We tried not to focus on some of the more macabre elements of its history including the fact that this ‘People’s Square” held its last public execution in 1826. Stanley raised an eyebrow when I shared this unpleasant nugget and remarked, ‘And people accuse dogs of being uncivilised!"‘

From there, we turned our attention to walking down the most popular of Roman streets - the Via del Corso. It’s similar to taking a stroll down 5th Avenue or Oxford Circus - with a couple of very important exceptions. Number 1; the buildings in which shops are contained are unfalteringly characterful. Number 2 strolling off the main road almost universally gives you a calmer, less chaotic and altogether more unique view of Roman life. We walked as if renegade members of an ant colony, who chose to follow and disengage with the tumultuous stream of tourists that slavishly followed the allotted path. It didn’t take long before Stanley shared that if we were to experience the city with joy we would need to plan an early morning start and get here before our fellow adventurers. Whilst I agreed, I also knew that there were some special spots where you could, in fact, escape the throng.

Escaping the throng was not within the realm of possibility as we entered that most famous of Roman sites, the Trevi Fountain. It was then that I turned to him and said, ‘Shall we come back at 6am and see this properly?’ It won’t surprise any Sealyham owners to hear that Stanley’s response was rapid, such was his determination to maintaining his position as my most faithful companion. As I write this, I appreciate the commitment we have made to all of you to go back at some very early hour! Oh well, I’m sure I won’t regret it. As you can see with the right knowledge, it is possible to get that uninterrupted shot without using that cool new Magic Eraser function of your phone. So, here we are, having our own private viewing of the Colosseum. You can get this same calm and clear view despite the chaos below by turning left and walking up the hill to Via Nicola Salvi. It was Leigh that knew this secret spot and its even more important gift - the restaurants and their infamous Cacio e Pepe pasta. We were not disappointed.

From there, despite my flagging limbs - no-one else seemed to be faltering with our escapade, we turned our attention to Travastere. Doing so led us behind the Colosseum and through the wide open expanse of the Circo Massimo. In ancient times, this was the location of games and events. It offered light relief for Stan as he traversed the wide open and largely grassy expanse on which Romans held competitions.

Having walked across the Tiber bridge we found ourselves in the cool part of town. Stan was taken aback by the size of the dogs he met there. He wanted you to know that he’s not ashamed to say he was somewhat afraid of their significant stature. The lack of knowledge about said dog made his feelings worse - ‘who was this dog?, what was his name and could I trust him?’ We reassured him that just because a dog has significantly longer legs than Stan that’s not a reason to be intimidated. I smiled as I wished I’d shared that same piece of advice with all the height afflicted leaders I’d worked for through the years!

Our final destination was the Basilica di Santa Maria. Like most churches, the current building is built upon the original place of prayer that dates back to the 4th Century. So ancient is its history that some cite is as the earliest place of worship in all of Rome. It lends an interesting perspective to our modern day dislike amongst some quarters of new architecture. Can you imagine if our ancesters had denied a planning application on this the most beautiful of buildings? Whatever your beliefs (architectural or religious), there’s no denying that there is beauty in these walls and a wonder in the artistry that adorns them.

Our first day in Rome was coming a to a close and so was our time with Leigh. She’d given us so many gifts that day in her knowledge of where to head in Rome and we’d be forever grateful. It wasn’t just me that was going to miss her it was Stan too. I’m not sure whether Stan felt it in his bones, but he seemed to consciously decide to show up in a new way for us from that point forward. Look at him showing up as his most mature self - whilst he’s no replacement, he’s a fantastic companion and we love him very much!

For the first time in almost three weeks we’re heading North

He was blown away by the entrance to the city

The stunning Basilica di Santa Maria in Travastere

But Stan is determined to be the best friend he can be!

Liz Sproat 29/10/2023 Liz Sproat 29/10/2023

Stanley si sente parte della famiglia

Stanley is made to feel part of the family!

Stanley wants to say he’s sorry. He has no excuses for eating the entire fish on the beach. He says he knows he’s quicker than the average dog and it’s hard for mum to keep on top of the many delicacies he likes to try. By delicacies, he wants you to know that these are dog delicacies and not something he cares to speak about with his human fans. Suffice to say, without knowing how old said fish was, we had an interesting day talking to Italian vets about how best to take care of him. Emotions ran high until Stanley, fish topped up with mashed potatoes, proved he had successfully run the gauntlet and come out the other side unharmed! The same cannot be said of his mum’s nerves.

With that in mind, the last couple of days took a more laid back approach, and with that came different and, once Stan was known to be fine, equally lovely experiences.

That evening, we ventured forth to Leigh and the Lanzaro family’s favourite restaurant in Vico Equense, Terramia. Despite the fishy escapades of earlier that day, it was seafood I was drawn to. As I ordered the gnocchi, our waiter was quick to share that this gnocchi was made without flour. I’m quite pleased that the photograph captured the beauty of the dish. As it arrived at the table, it was as if the glistening pebbles from the beach, warmed by the sun, had been served up. Unlike a pebble, the delicious gnocchi morsels were soft and melted in the mouth. It was the perfect second course after the lightly fried, stuffed courgette flowers that had popped crunchily in our palates only minutes before. Leaving aside the wonderful food at this reasonably priced family restaurant, Stanley received that same welcome reception we have grown accustomed to from Italians. It’s a delight to see his engagement with humans bring such joy to those around him. If only they had seen what he’d eaten on the beach earlier that morning!

Everywhere you go in Italy, the importance of family is evident. The next day, fully satisfied that Stan was well, we ventured to Sorrento. It’s a beautiful place. We traveled there on the train, just ten minutes from the Sieano stop close to our apartment. On the boat trip, we had seen the town arguably from its best perspective. Perched high above the sea below, the many winding roads that lead to the beaches provide a Harry Potter or Escher-like vista. It’s somewhat other-worldly.

Our search for stories continued in Sorrento. So far, it’s been incredible what we’ve experienced upon on our travels - and today was no exception. The history of the town is one of holiday making (from as far back as Roman times) but also craftmanship and artistry, such as marquetry (woodwork), ceramics and lacework. And it’s our experience in the shop, Stinga Tarsia, that provides an insight into the power of family and the bizarre connections we find with others.

As a child, I often coveted the musical jewellery box in which my mother held her most cherished pieces. I loved it more because I knew how much it meant to her. My Great Uncle Stanley gave her the box. Suffice to say, it’s no coincidence that when Stanley came along, naming him was an easy task. Growing up, we didn’t have the traditional nuclear family and Great Uncle Stanley was an important male figure in her and my childhood. I hope that reassures you that this post celebrates families whatever their shape and size! So, imagine my surprise, when we happen across an almost identical replica of that jewellery box here in Sorrento. As I write this, I have just concluded a phone call with my mum in which she shared something of Uncle Stanley that I had not known. He visited Capri and fell in love with it, with his wife and youngest child Marilyn, in 1965. Could it be that he bought that musical box here in Sorrento, or even from the same store? When I return home, I’ll do my best to determine if that is the case. If he did, then perhaps it was Roberto’s father, Aniello, that Uncle Stanley met!

Stinga Tarsia is a very special place. The walls are adorned with work from across the generations. Roberto, the grandson of the founder of the store, works there faithfully. His wife is an artist in her own right, perfecting jewelry with coral sourced from the town renowned for it, Torre del Greco. If you’re serious about buying the highest quality coral make sure you ask about its provenance. However, it was the marquetry that intrigued us.

Despite the many signs on the wall asking that visitors did not take photographs, Roberto was happy to let us snap away. I’m glad he did, as those photos told the story of his family and expressed his pride and passion of their livelihood. Perhaps, it was the faithful way in which Stan took his place at Roberto’s feet as he showed us the traditional way in which the marquetry was created. What I would say, and I don’t think he fooled us, is that Roberto didn’t do this for every visitor. He had that perfect demeanour of understated confidence in his skill with respect for the fact that not everyone might want to see him perform it. As he settled into the ancient machinery to show us how it was done, he turned and said, ‘I will show, but only if you have time.’ We had all the time in the world and felt honoured to watch him.

Such is the impressiveness of this craft that the Italian fashion brand, Fendi selected Stinga Tarsia to create a bag in celebration of the twenty year anniversary of the baguette bag. Twenty artisans from Italian regions were selected and the honour passed to the brothers of Stinga Tarsia to represent Campania. The bag and accompanying literature is proudly displayed behind the desk and Roberto did us the honour of letting us see it in all its glory. Only seven versions of the bag were created, the one here is the prototype from which all the rest were created.

Now it wouldn’t be fair of me to write about Stanley’s human familial connections without a mention of the doggy kind. Many people stop and ask us what kind of dog Stanley is. They assume he is a cross breed variety, one of those gaining significant appeal - perhaps a West Highland Terrier teamed with some other breed. In honour of Stanley’s lineage I am proud to share the names of Stanley’s brothers and sisters: Another Stanley, Alfie and Twilip and one other sibling that I sadly don’t know the name of were part of his litter. And, like any great Sealyham, he was bred in Wales. The sibling, Twilip stayed there, she was destined to become a show dog but ended up having puppies. That said, her puppies have reached the very highest level of appreciation by Crufts. Below you can see Bobbi receiving his RCC, one of the highest awards Crufts bestow, meaning he will have lifetime membership of the elite organisation! Only 137 Sealyhams were registered in the UK last year. Knowing what a plucky, delightful and as one Italian yesterday described Stanley, elegant dog they are, I can’t see why. If this story of our adventure achieves anything, I hope you will appreciate and get to know this breed.

Our day in Sorrento was over, and what a day it had been. The only way to celebrate our departure was to take in that fabulous view whilst sipping a cocktail at the Bellevue Syrene. Tomorrow, on to Rome!

Squid ink gnocchi with rocket and shellfish

Stan sits by as Roberto does his magic marquetry

Fendi commissioned Stinga Tarsia to make the wonderful Campania bag

Bobbi at twenty months old receiving his life-time membership of Crufts

Liz Sproat 27/10/2023 Liz Sproat 27/10/2023

La celebrità Stan arriva a Capri

Celebrity Stan arrives in Capri

My mum often says if you can’t beat them, join them. In this case, since we haven’t yet met a celebrity, why shouldn’t Stan be one? I’m sure you will agree that he’s well qualified for the job. With that in mind there was only one way for Stan to arrive in Capri - in style! And, who better to do it with than his Chief Other Mother, Leigh. Whilst it was his real mum that called him Stanley, it was Leigh who christened him Stanley Poochie.

Descending from the boat we had that same feeling when alighting from the boat in Portofino. ‘We’ve arrived!’ and a collective sigh of contentment and a frisson of excitement bubbled through our veins. Stan felt it too but as a seasoned celeb, turned back and said, ‘be cool, I have a reputation to maintain!”

Despite the sentient connection between arriving in Capri and Portofino, the port area is very different from its Northern neighbour. Here, countless boats, ebb and flow with the regularity of the waves. To get to the refined elegance of the town, you need to climb the winding road. A multitude of transport options present themselves; our vehicle of choice was the delightful open topped taxi you can see.

In the spirit of playing it cool, Stan advised us to relax and get a coffee before embarking on his goal for the day. Of course, all the same 50’s film stars that frequented Portofino have visited Capri and Stan was keen to learn more about them. First stop, the Gran Caffè R Vuotto for a pastry and some gentle people watching. Did I call it a pastry? It was, in fact, a sfogliatella! This morsel of pastry perfection sums up the refined elegance of Campania in one delicious bite. Stan was quick to let us know when it was time to leave and pursue his main goal for the day.

If Portofino was where Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton got married, Capri was where they fell in love. Brought to Ischia to film Cleopatra and then moving on to Capri, their affair reached new heights in this beautiful setting. Such was the outrage at their very public affair (both were married) that the Vatican accused them of ‘erotic vagrancy’ and the US threatened to ban them from the country. In Capri they stayed at the Hotel Tiberio Palace. Remember him? He’s the guy that named the delightful town of Nerano. So, off we set in pursuit of our story. The exterior of the hotel did not disappoint, however sadly as with most of the high end hotels in Capri the season was over and it was closed. At least we got one step closer to Tiberius though.

Strolling along the Via Croce on which the Hotel is located, presents numerous shopping opportunities - not all of them the high end luxury brands; though they are absolutely here. We headed towards the Giardini Augusto and, in doing so, made further discoveries about the celebrities that had visited before us. Stan’s scent detectors took over and we found ourselves in Stan heaven - his own personal bar, a delicious scent and back on the trail of celebrities in Capri!

Legend has it that the creation of the sweetest scents of Italy started in Capri as early as 1380 when an unexpected dignitary Queen Joanna of Naples visited the monastery. I guess this was the equivalent of J-Lo showing up and you hadn’t bought a gift. It’s a great adage to see beauty in the things around us, and so the ingenious Prior picked a bouquet of flowers. We can only imagine the Queen’s delight as the scent lingered softly in her room throughout that stay. On her departure, three days later, the Prior went to her room and was struck by the intensity of the aroma the flowers had lovingly bestowed upon the room. But it was the water itself, unchanged throughout that stay that formed the basis of the first scent - Garofilium Silvestre Caprese.

By 1948 the monks made a formal application to the Pope to create the smallest perfume laboratory in the world. As you can see, this time Capri was ready for its celebrity visitor Stan. They made sure the dog bar was well stocked and knowing Stan’s refined love of scent perfectly positioned a bloom within his reach. As something of a refined chap, his first focus was on the flower itself - the dog bar could wait; the flower was temporal and its scent needed to be appreciated just at the right moment.

Of course, Stan wasn’t the only celebrity beguiled by the beauty of the Carthusian scents. The walls of the factory are littered with images of film stars from the 50’s and 60’s. Sophia Loren, Grace Kelly, in fact, you can pick the name of virtually any star from that period and it’s likely they set foot here.

By the time we left Carthusia, we were all feeling the celebrity vibe so we headed to the Capri Rooftop for a very special refreshment with a view. In their garden, we rocked the celebrity photo shoot with a very special picture amongst the beautiful flowers in their garden. The only challenge the staff had was attempting to keep the many pigeons and gulls away from Stan’s vista. The moment they came into view they were a terrible distraction for him. I coached Stan that, at least these pesky birds didn’t pose a threat like those nasty mosquites. That turned out to be a good way of assessing the everyday irritations that blight our lives; can they really hurt us or are they just getting in the way?

Revived by refreshments it was onwards to the Giardini. Stan’s newfound karma left him at one with nature and relaxed enough to enjoy a sublime sit at one of the many beautifully decorated ceramic benches. By this time of the year, the crowds here have really dissipated giving you the chance to enjoy the vistas calmly. As you can see, the clouds kept rolling in and out - keeping us on our toes with what to expect next. Not surprisingly, the sundial pictured couldn’t help us out or tell the time. That said, it was nice to discover a more modern day emblem of the deep love the islanders feel for Capri. It is based upon the ancient Horologium built by Augustus in 10 BC in the Campo Marzio in Rome (our next destination). It provides a wonderful relief as it peeps between the famous stacks of the Fragiolini. And what better way to close out our lovely day in Capri than contemplating its sublime beauty.

Stan arrives in Capri with his puparrazi

When the Capresi cook, they make Sfogliatella

Stan sniffing out a scent at the Carthusia Dog Bar

Lifting the lid on the creation of Carthusia perfumes

A chilled out Stan having a well earned sit!

Liz Sproat 25/10/2023 Liz Sproat 25/10/2023

Bow wow sulla barca

Bow wow on the boat

I’m surprised to learn that Stanley is a natural skipper! Of course, we wouldn’t want to denigrate the importance of Andrea as his first mate - but it was definitely Stan who was in charge of the boat!

So, of course, he set sail with a clear path in fair weather. He planned a route that would fulfill all our dreams, based on his navigational expertise and knowledge of the shipping forecast. It was an easy start as we boarded the Principessa Patty and relaxed into the sublime luxury of our very own vessel. Stan is no stranger to seafaring having skippered a boat on Lake Ullswater. That said, this was by far the most beautiful boat he’d had the chance to experience. He wasn’t the only one!

Our first destination was the beautiful island of Capri. We’d decided not to disembark on the island, not least because arriving on a private boat costs 100 euros before you’ve even set foor in a restaurant, but also because we had a plan to go there the next day. The weather round the Amalfi coast meant we couldn’t take the traditional tour all along the Amalfi coastline to its namesake - the town of Amalfi. So, we customised our trip - seeing the best of the island from the water and then touring the Amalfi coast as far as Positano before turning back home to Vico.

The island of Capri reminded me of the rock formations of Thailand I had visited long before Stanley was a twinkle in my eye. Like there, rock formations rose jaggedly from the sea. But this time around, some twenty years after my visit to Thailand, I found myself a different person. Originally, they had formed part of the island of Capri, but weathered by erosion over time, they found themselves split from the main island. The result, a dramatic rock formation, known as the Faraglioni Capri.

There are four ‘stacks’ rising some 100 metres above the sea level. The stack pictured is known as the Faraglioni di Mezzo. It’s renowned for its archway through which Stanley skillfully steered the boat. As with all great tourist attractions, there is best practise on how to experience it. If you’re alone; then make a wish. If you’re there with your loved one be sure to give them a kiss.

When I was ill, a good friend introduced me to the works of Pablo Neruda, Through them, I experienced a new appreciation of love and loss. He was an exiled Chilean poet who, in 1952, spent the Winter and Spring in Capri writing his most renowned work, The Captain’s Verses. A that time, he was in a passionate relationship with Matilde Urrutia, whom he later married. She was not his only love, but definitely his great love!

Rather than let me explain what he means to me, I thought it best to share one of his most famous quotes:

"Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life."

And, if you were to spend one of the happiest hours of your life, what better place to do it than on the beach in Nerano. Emperor Tiberio Nerone found the place, fell in love with it and named it Neronianum. There will be more about him in our next post. He wasn’t the only one to be entranced by its charms. Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck enjoyed a lunch at the Il Scoglio restaurant. We achieved that celebrity feeling too. In order to get to the beach, the boat has to be met by a smaller motorboat directly from the restaurant you choose to eat in. There was something very special about that brief journey and, as we landed on the jetty of Il Cantuccio the staff had already placed our sun beds strategically on the beach. Even Stan spent a few glorious moments sunning himself before settling under the shade of the sunbed. My friend followed the local advice and chose Spaghetti alla Nerona; a delicious spaghetti dish made with fried courgette (zuchinni).

As we completed our lunch in Nerano the weather had cleared sufficiently to allow us to continue on to Positano. Whilst we didn’t have time to disembark, we saw it in all its glory from the sea. Stan was particularly keen to get a glimpse of the place, since every year it holds a special festival that he holds dear to his heart. Here in Positano, the locals hold the blessing of the dogs. The blessing is as a result of Saint Vitus and his story is very beguiling. According to legend, Vitus was tortured by being left in the company of rabid dogs. Rather than falling foul of a vicious attack, Vitus presence healed the dogs so he became one of the 14 Holy Helpers. Since that time, the image of Saint Vitus has forever been associated with that of man’s best friend, the dog! No wonder Stan was keen to meet him, No doubt one second in Vitus’ company would have cleared the remnants of his mosquito bite in a flash. Stanley is already making plans to return in June of next year and picking out his yellow bandana so he can celebrate in style!

As I started this post, I was struck by how much this day was an experience of all our senses. Sure, there are stories to tell of the places we visited and the food we ate. However, by far the larger part was how this day made us feel. It’s sometimes hard to convey that. Nothing captures it better than watching Stanley enjoying his time on the boat.

Faraglioni di Mezzo - make sure to make a wish!

You won’t find a better lunch than here in Nerano

Stan getting those Autumn rays of sun before settling in the shade

Liz Sproat 23/10/2023 Liz Sproat 23/10/2023

Una giornata divisa in due metà

A day of two halves!

As a stop over San Felice Circeo exceeded all our expectations. The home exchange was one of those delightful homes that made you feel like an Italian! It’s hard to describe how lovely it was; like a beach homestead with a sprawling garden and spacious rooms. Sran and I felt right at home. As you can see from the photographs my friend is an amazing photographer, so we were blessed with some beautiful shots of Stan hanging out.

Finally the weather has changed, and after another monstrous thunderstorm, blue skies prevailed. It reminded me of skiing and waking to what the locals called a bluebird day - a day marked by cloudless blue skies. It served as a reminder that much of the best in life is free! Stan felt that freedom too as we decided to stop at the beach before we headed down to the Amalfi Coast.

Once you’ve explored the town of San Felice Circeo, you can discover its true beauty - the beach! As you drive south of the town wave after wave of compounds create an unwanted barrier between road and sea. Google maps tantalised us with road after road that appeared to take us to the ocean landed in the “PRIVATA” sign and electric gates that barred our progress. We were about to give up when we cam upon a sign, Mare (the sea). Lo and behold a beach to challenge any I’ve seen was served up - complete with sparkling waters. We’d arrived at Lungomare Di Terracina and as if the golden sands hadn’t made it obvious already - it’s other name was Jamaica Beach. It stretches a remarkable 4km. As with most of the places we’ve visited on the trip it’s largely deserted. That is apart from an Italian family who have taken a shine to Stan and want to take his picture. Ooh, a chance for me to practise my Italian. I did OK connecting the mother and the daughter in Italian, but quickly realised a faux pas had been made when the younger woman declared no - sposa! Of course the man with her was not her father - it was her husband! It’s a well known fact that failures are an essential part of the learning process. I rather wish I had not made this particular mistake. In any case, I won’t be making it again!

Reluctantly and after much fun on the beach, we set off for our next destination on the Amalfi coast. When we reach Vico Equense, I will have driven the furthest in Europe I’ve ever driven in my life. We will be some 1,345 miles from home! I now know I can drive anywhere I want to!

Except, and it’s one large exception, the roads in Amalfi are something else! I’m used to narrow roads and I’m use to roads that twist and turn. Some of my favourite haunts from the Lake District carry the names - Hardknott and Rhino’s Pass. If the name didn’t give it away they are the roads that take you over the mountains. I’ve seen many a holidaymaker to that region decline to scale their windy ways. Imagine all of that in Amalfi but far more vertiginious, built up and busy with tourists. These are the roads of Amalfi.

We are headed to Vico Equense where a friend has offered us their apartment for a few days. It wasn’t difficult to get here - we sailed passed Vesuvius and past the sprawling city of Naples. A thunderstorm descended as we ascended the road up towards Vico. We were doing great until we passed the turning that took us to the apartment. I know what you’re thinking - that’s OK - just do a three point turn. Little do you know how hard that is to achieve,

Suffice to say having finally and safely arrived in Vico we will not be getting back in that car. There was only one thing to do - watch the sunset. And what better place to do it than in the bar at the Grand Hotel Angiolieri. If were able to pronouce it at the beginning of the evening the same cannot be said for the end!

The Grand Hotel Angiolieri is another of those great Italian hotels with a prestigious past. Their stand out star couldn’t lead us closed to a Sealyham but we were no less star struck to know it had been frequented by Sophia Loren. I recall my mum’s passion for Sophia Loren and the many movies that explored torrid affairs and star crossed lovers! It’s easy to see why she liked the place. Look at the view!

That gave us our inspiration for our next adventure - it was time to get on the water!

We have avoided this Amalfi road so far - but you get the picture!

Look Stan, tomorrow we’re going on a boat

Liz Sproat 22/10/2023 Liz Sproat 22/10/2023

La musica mi commuove

Music moves me!

And it’s just as well because we’re back on the road. This time traveling from Rapallo, via Rome airport, to San Felice Circeo. This week, we are not alone. A dear friend from 20 years ago joins us from Abu Dhabi. It’s been much better than I had expected traveling solo, but it’s also cool to be joined by a close friend.

But before we get to all that - how is Stan doing? He’s been chilling out. Whilst the idea of the long journey made me feel exhausted, he was actually looking forward to it. He wanted you guys to know his sore is healing slowly but nicely and he’s feeling a lot better.

So, I’d need all the positive energy I could muster to get through the next few hours. Despite what google maps says, our journey would not take almost 9 hours. We took this same route yesterday leaving at 8am, arriving in Roma by 1, and then on to San Felice Circeo by around 3.

Like all our journeys, music accompanies us. As the car finally spurred into action, I reached for my favourites list and, as so often happens, serendipity provided the song that captured our mood. The Wings of Time by Tame Impala came on and the lyrics told the story for us:

We are number one
It is clear to us now
All is said and done
I knew it all along
And the world will find out
All, takes, time, to learn

Do you see the Wings of Time?
Do you feel a sense of pride, now?
Do you know you'll never fly, alone?
We did it right this time

Goosebumps percolated my body, and a smile brightened my face as the meaning of the lyrics resonated with me. Music has always had this effect on me. My son Hector and I got into music festivals about four years ago and we’ve had some of our best times at them. We saw Tame Impala perform at Rock en Seine in Paris in 2022 and it was amazing! However, it didn’t come close to Wet Leg at the same festival in 2023. As the rain descended, a handful of die hard fans wouldn’t leave the field and stayed dancing to George Michael’s Careless Whispers. Needless to stay, Hector and I were among them!

Music can have a polarising effect. Sharing your music taste can solicit a multitude of reactions from different people. I’m sure you’ve all experienced that moment of bonding when someone loves the same track as you; or that surprise when someone you really like likes a song you hate. I fear this is how my teenage self reacted to music conversations. I’ve learnt to see others’ music taste as a chance to learn and be curious and, in doing so, I’ve discovered a lot of new music that I like. Take Tame Impala, I’d never heard of them a few years ago and now, I love them. If you’re thinking, you don’t know Tame Impala then think again. Have you seen the Barbie movie? Tame Impala’s Journey to the New World features in the film.

Which leads me to a rather unexpected musical connection. Charles MacDougall, the musical director of the choir I sing in is one of the Ken voices in the Barbie movie! Joining Finsbury Park Singers has added a vital new dimension to my life back home. It’s a community choir started by the very talented Hannah Brine and is more than 80 strong in number. London can sometimes feel a lonely place to live. It took having a baby to get to know the surrounding neighbours. The stereotypical perception that the north of England is a friendlier place is probably true. In the town where I’m from, you can’t walk down the street without bumping into someone you know! This is both a curse and a blessing. But, in London, that sense of connection is harder to achieve. The choir provides that connection, and in my humble opinion, we sound amazing! And check out both Hannah and Charles as they are amazing performers and musicians.

I’m sure there will be more to say about music in further posts, but it wouldn’t be right not to share something of our overnight stay in San Felice Circeo.

On a wall, just next to the convent, we found this sign. This morning I was able to translate it and learnt its connection to the story of the town.

I saw the island rising on a rocky peak that the sea surrounds like a crown

According to mythology, it was here that Ulysses landed seduced by the sorceress Cerce. Mont Circeo is the mountain that stands behind the town and perched right on top is a cross. Seen from the sea, the area looks like an island - which is why Homer refers to it as such. Cerce tricks Ullyses’ men into entering her home by lighting a fire. Once inside, she puts a spell on them. Ullyses warned by Hermes of the plot takes an antidote. Once cornered with the truth Cerce is forced to lift the spell. Now, despite all this, Ullyses is bewitched by Cerce’s beauty and stays for a further year! And, you think you’ve made daft decisions!

The history of San Felice Circeo dates back centuries. However the building that stood out dramatically on our visit was that of the convent and tower - which still appeared to be occupied. It dates from the 13th Century and reflects a period in which the Knights Templar were ordered to occupy and fortify the town. At that time it was known as Rocca Circea - a nice reminder of the story of Ulysses! As far as I can tell, the convent is still functioning. Whilst the building is an impressive one, I cannot imagine living amidst it gloomy corridors.

Back in our lovely homeexchange, we found a rather more amusing everyday Italian object. I’m rather tempted to take it home with me! I hope you like too.

So few words telling such an important story

The gloomy corridors of the inhabited convent

The exterior of the convent is beautiful

Voodoo Knife Block - the ideal Valentine’s Day present for your loved one

Liz Sproat 20/10/2023 Liz Sproat 20/10/2023

Stanley è malato

Stanley is sick!

Today is our last day in Rapallo and, arguably, the most dramatic so far. As you may have noticed in earlier posts, the weather here has turned. Stan hasn’t been able to go out without his coat on. I’d noticed a small sore on his back but assumed it was linked to the combination of his harness and coat rubbing together. After the first day of rain, I put the harness away so it wouldn’t bother him and he went to school in just his coat. However, my hypothesis about the provenance of the sore on his back was wrong. As we arrived at school this morning it was clear his back was still sore and not getting better. Elisabeta suggested we go and meet Nicoletta, the vet at Via Trento - I’m glad we did! Stan’s temperature was 39.5 degrees celsius so Nicoletta did a blood test. Fortunately, we have caught the infection just as it has taken hold - all of his stats indicated he wasn’t very well. He was given an injection that lasts two weeks, a cleansing foam and some antibiotics.

My first reaction was relief that Stan’s OK and my second was a little bit of guilt. Was it my fault he’d got it in the first place? Nicoletta informed me that the infection was caused by a mosquito bite. That did not surprise me as I am covered in them - and they hurt like hell. How funny that Stan and I should be suffering from the same affliction - albeit that Stan’s reaction is much worse!

To alleviate the itching, I’d been to the chemist earlier in the week and managed (in my broken Italian) to learn that this was an unusual time for so many to be around. Mosquitos die at temperatures lower than 10 degrees and are lethargic below 15. The chemist informed me that the temperature here in Rapallo this week is around 10 degrees higher than it should be. The fact that we have biblical rain and a humid atmosphere provides the perfect place for them to survive longer.

That got me thinking about a story Carol had told me about the storms that hit Rapallo in November 2018. She’d just left the area, but her local friends shared the dramatic pictures you can see here. This is the year that Venice was under water with record water levels; three quarters of the city was submerged. Here in Rapallo, the impact was even more shocking. It’s hard to get a clear view of exactly how many yachts were destroyed as a result of the storm - but the total definitely runs in excess of two hundred and fifty. Many of them were superyachts taking advantage of Rapallo’s ship building capacity and general attractiveness of the area. Across Italy, and according to newspaper reports, more than eleven people died. The story of Rapallo’s flooding is particularly relevant as Storm Babet pounds Scotland resulting in the evacuation of many villages in the Fife area and considerable flooding in the country. Stan wanted you to know that it’s high time we accept that global warming has big impacts on our lives and we should do what we can to reduce carbon emissions.

So what do you do in Rapallo in the rain? You work, you go to the spa, you learn Italian and you cook! Since I didn’t know Stan was sick yesterday, I headed to the Hotel Bristol after my coaching sessions for a bit of TLC . It’s less than five minutes walk from the home we’re staying in, and provided a sanctuary away from the rain. The spa is very beautiful and I guarantee it won’t disappoint. The hotel itself also has an illustrious past, much like the Excelsior and Splendido hotels we visited earlier in the week. The Hotel Bristol has a stronger association with the arts than either of the other two. If the Excelsior and Splendido were the hotels of filmstars. The Hotel Bristol was the home of writers, artists and architects. Ernest Hemingway, Truman Capote, André Gide, Jean-Paul Sartre are all past visitors. In one way, the visit to the Hotel Bristol got me a step closer to understanding whether it was even feasible that Stan’s relatives set foot here. My brief visit there led me to learn that there had been an airport here in Rapallo in the 1950s with a seaplane that ran from Southampton in the UK. Perhaps some of those celebrity sealyhams got here in style!

Learning Italian at Grasshopper was a brilliant thing to do. Not only have I begun to learn a new skill but I’ve made a new friend. Solo travel works best for me when I have a moment each day to share an experience or reflect on what’s happening with someone else. Without that, I’ve got to admit I start to feel alone. So, the language classes have worked on two fronts. Firstly, I made a great new friend in Carol. Secondly, I got to learn Italian thanks to Cynthia’s great teaching. Whenever you’re learning something new it’s good to reflect on the progress you’ve made. At the beginning of the week I had no Italian at all. Today our group learnt how to make the typical meal of pasta pesto - not by actually cooking it but by reading a recipe and its instructions in Italian. It did make me smile as pasta pesto is my son, Hector’s go to choice of meal - I don’t like it. I’m afraid that Stan and I didn’t get to taste the home made variety. I’m reliably infomed by Cynthia that shop bought pesto in England is a world away from the home made variety. So, when I get home from Italy I promise to make the pesto sauce using the recipe we translated in class today. I have every faith it will taste considerably better than anything I’ve tasted so far to date!

And, what of Stan. Well, he’s taking it easy. And I plan to do the same. Long drive tomorrow.

Ciao Rapallo and grazie mille.

Tornerò - I’ll be back!

But it’s nothing compared to the devastation of the 2018 storms

Many boats found themselves on the sea front

Resting and recuperating, Stan is going to be fine!

Liz Sproat 18/10/2023 Liz Sproat 18/10/2023

Stanley va a scuola

Stanley goes to school and then, has some fun!

In selecting a language school one of my first questions was, would it be possible to bring along Stan? When I called the Grasshopper Language school I was surprised to be greeted by an Italian accent with a, not so faint, Lancashire lilt. Imagine my surprise when I discovered, not only that the owner was brought up not far from me, but she was also called Elisabeth. The fact that she clearly loved dogs made the decision even more straight-forward. Stanley enjoyed his lesson today, he was impressed with the speed by which he captured the articoli determinativi. He didn’t quite understand why I spent so much time conjugating verbs. That said, he was happy to conclude that his favourite verb to conjugate was, of course, that Italian favourite - mangiare. He could literally eat it up! Cynthia, our teacher, is looking forward to serving up more Italian delicacies for our consumption tomorrow! Stan can’t wait.

Carol, my fellow student, as a frequent traveler to the region had a recommendation that we visit Camogli. Getting there was easy, just five minutes on the train. That’s one of the great advantages of Rapallo - the train links are second to none. Since we arrived, Stan and I have, thankfully, not driven anywhere in the car,

In class, we learnt about the many words Italians have for the word blue - little did we know that this rainy day would provide such a beautiful examplar of them, in practice. Stan and I weren’t surprised to learn this given Italy’s reputation as a centre of art. We are looking forward to debating which specific version of Italian blue we will see when we head to Rome and Florence.

And when we looked back from the sea to the beach, Camogli rewarded us with an even more colourful experience. Buildings of terracotta, green, pink and yellow make the perfect boundary between sea and land.

Did I mention that Stan likes food? Of course, I did! Camogli represented the perfect destination; it is the centre for a most unique Italian festival. Unlike many Italian festivals, the provinence of the festival is relatively recent but that doesn’t detract, in any way, from its significance. It’s known as the Fish Festival of Saint Fortunato in honour of the Patron Saint of Fishermen. Fishermen’s wives during WWII prepared a festival, in gratitude, for the safe return of their husbands. Suffice to say, the extent of that gratitude has reached gargantuan proportions. The pan you can see in the picture is colossal - it has a liquid capacity of a thousand litres and weighs over 2.5 tonnes. Every year in May, it is placed in the harbour and thousands of fish are fried for consumption. Fireworks and huge bonfires, created by the two main residential areas of the town, build a party atmosphere. It’s testament to human nature that, in the depth of human challenge and tragedy, an event is created to celebrate and preserve those we love. The good news is that Carol plans to come back next Spring and will be there to witness this in person. I can’t wait to see the photos!

In the spirit of the fish festival, we indulged in a phenomenal meal at Izoa. Not only was the food fantastic, we shared with the waitress that we were learning Italian. It provided a great opportunity to put our Italian into practice. The service and food here was second to none and Stan and I have no doubt it will make an excellent choice if you happen to head this way. Stanley provided a valuable security system against the, both dominant and lovely, gulls that sat sinisterly seconds from our table. As we relaxed into our meals and shared storied of our lives, they seemed, moment by moment, less threatening that we imagined.

The fish festival isn’t the only way that Camogli celebrates the most special of human emotions. Here, on the harbour, Stanley was delighted to be photographed alongside the hearts and knots that the Camogli Fishermans’s Cooperative tie there every Valentine’s Day. The association between romance and Camogli is so great that the town is officially known as the City of Lovers and linked to San Valentino ... Innamorati a Camogli (Valentine’s Day ... Fall in love in Camogli). Each year, a love poem is selected in a competition resulting in the award of the Special Price of the City of Camogli. No wonder so many couples come here to reaffirm or cement their feelings of affection. Maybe you should too?

If you’re either religious or an admirer of historic churches, you’d be mad not to visit the Basilica Santa Maria Assunta. Like many churches, be you religious or not, there is a sense of calm that was particularly compelling today. The rain had kept the tourists away lending an even more special experience as we surveyed its spectacular interior. Built in the baroque style, externally a clean, simplistic style made the interior artwork even more powerful. I’m afraid that, in defiance of the ‘silenzio’ signs, Stan was desparate to remove his raincoat. The result was that he wriggled and rolled in an attempt to get it off. Our two other fellow visitors were kind and smiled with affection as I quickly freed him from its constraints.

I hope that one day you get to experience Camogli too!

Blu isn’t always blue; it can be azzurro, celeste, chiaro, scuro, marino and more! Che bello!

Liz Sproat 17/10/2023 Liz Sproat 17/10/2023

Io adoro Rapallo

I’ll be honest, after the excitement of the last few days, I planned to take it easy today. It’s not that I didn’t have things to do. My second language class inspired me to try and incorporate a little Italian. Forgive me for any current and future Italian errors, I’m learning! And, this afternoon, I had a couple of coaching clients.

I love to learn. I don’t mind that uncomfortable feeling that accompanies it. I know it’s a signal that I’m about to grow. So the language classes, despite the challenge are joyful. Today I felt like a local. I did some work, some shopping and I got to know Rapallo a little bit more.

How to describe Rapallo? I hope I do it justice. Rapallo is a vibrant Italian town. It’s not the rarefied beauty of Portofino. Italians live their lives in Rapallo. Stan and I feel they have made us welcome in their world. It’s clear that Italians love dogs and we’ve made friends with a few. Sadly, Stanley wasn’t with me when I met Petunia - one of 11 basset hounds - owned by the same Italian family. Isn’t she beautiful?

But he’s made lots of new friends. As we hung out in the garden this afternoon, Lucky was desperate to sneak through the wire to have a proper play with Stan. By the look of their kiss, romance was on the cards. As hard as Lucky tried, she couldn’t get through the gate. It was probably a lucky escape as Stan’s taking a break from serious relationships right now. Shame on you Stan for leading Lucky on with that kiss! At the beach, Dobbie and Stanley had different priorities. So clearly they were never meant to be!

So, if Stanley had lots of doggy friendships to explore - what about me! I enjoyed a fabulous lunch with Carol, my fellow student, sampling the delicacies of Rapallo cuisine. I have a strong sense that be it music, book or food recommendations they are a gift to be respected and indulged. So, I was delighted to follow Carol’s lead in selecting lunch. She introduced me to a Ligurian speciality, Pansoti in salsa di noci at the Ristorante Pizzeria Nettuno. Wow, was I in for a treat. It’s a traditional Genovese dish. It’s wonderful to see traditional cooking take advantage of cost effective ingredients to bring fabulous flavours to every table. The pansoti uses local herbs as a stuffing in pasta and combines it with a rich sauce made from walnuts, pine nuts, garlic, olive oil and bread soaked in milk. If you make it to Rapallo take Carol’s recommendation as a gift and give it a go! And be sure to have it with a lovely glass of Ligurian wine, it would be rude not to!

What better way to have a lazy day than by checking out the local shops. Rapallo is unlike any town I’ve been to in a very long time. Come to any English town right now and you’d be forgiven for forgetting where you were. The same, not so old brand names, populate the high street, or, worse still, retail units lie empty where shops once stood. This is not the case in Rapallo.

Rapallo is a lively, local town that has retained an old style charm that is hard to beat. The only thing fake about it, is the tromp l’oeil that beautifully deceives your eyes on all the buildings! At a time when we’re all trying to figure out what is real and what is not, it felt good to feel the authenticity of a vibrant Italian town. Evidence of that authenticity was best experienced by two extra special shopping experiences. For those that know me these played into my two most significant vices - shoes and food! Gosh, it’s hard to decide what to write about first!

Let’s go with the shoes! Finding a shoe shop that dates back to 1930 and has been in the same family since has to be a mark of quality. I’d seen the shoes I wanted on the first day I arrived in Rapallo. I’m quite impressed that I’ve waited a whole two days before going to check them out. But these weren’t any old shoes, these were shoes with a story to be told. Adorning the walls the picture of the original owner and his wife were proudly displayed. Most of the shoes here are hand-made on site, to a fine quality and a reasonable price. Whilst the original owner has sadly passed, his brother and his son maintain the business. It made me smile to think, only the day before, we’d been in Portofino where luxury brands charged 5X the price of the very lovely ballet shoes I bought in the Rapallo shoe institution. And the pride of the shop assistant was evident. As I showed interest in the history of the shop, she proudly shared examples of the quality of the shoes on display and pointed out the photographs that told a story of a family through multiple generations. Maggiore is a special place - you can’t buy their shoes online, you need to come here! And I strongly recommend you do.

The family theme continued when it came to food. No Lidl, M&S, or Waitrose here. Traditional, local shops prevail and the town is all the better for it. Take this amazing store selling local delicacies including roasted chicken, stuffed peppers and a fabulous potato dish that tastes like potato dauphinoise but are denser and have a tasty breadcrumb and parmesan topping. I can’t honestly tell you exactly what this store is called. If you look in maps, it’s located on Via Giuseppe Mazzinni next to Pasitificio La Casana. Like Maggiore, this is a labour of love that involves the whole family. We were served by the owner and his father, his predecessor, watched on from the photograph about the counter. No doubt they made a pact that cooking methods wouldn’t change, whatever happened around them. A large pile of wood stood ready to burn to the left of the front door. The traditional oven range lay in wait to do its magic. Suffice to say lunch and dinner were a treat!

In my hometown of Penrith two companies remain that have been there since long before I was born. Back in the day, Arnison’s would have been considered a department store. It has served a local farming community since 1742. It was only whilst researching this post, I discovered it is the oldest retail outlet in the UK. Stock includes quality brands like Trickers and Barbour, leaning into the philosophy of buy once, cry once (thought it’s not that expensive) running counter to the prevailing desire for fast fashion. The other, is the Toffee Shop, provider of quality toffee since 1910. It counts the Royal Family amongst its customers. Perhaps it’s this heritage that makes me so appreciative of family businesses that stand the test of time. Do you have a family business in your town that inspires you? Feel free to share in the comments!

Dobbie and Stanley; dogs with different priorities

Maggiore - fabulous handmade Italian shoes

Keeping it in the family, with his father watching over

Cooking methods that stand the test of time

Liz Sproat 16/10/2023 Liz Sproat 16/10/2023

A Sealyham in search of a film star

Wow, it’s been a red carpet day for Stan and I. It started on the beach with a lovely walk before I headed to my Italian language classes at Grasshopper Language School in the town. We made a lovely new friend, Carol, from Denver, Colorado. She’s one inspiring lady and loves to spend extended trips in Rapallo. Denver is land-locked so it’s important she chooses an apartment with a wonderful view of the sea. It was her advice that led us to get the ferry boat to Rapallo in the afternoon.

I can’t begin to describe how stunning this part of the Italian coast line is. It comes as no surprise that this is the playground of celebrities. But it’s not the present day celebrities we’re in search of - it’s those from the past. We hoped this trip to Portofino would yield more success than our very lovely trip to the Excelsior Hotel. And, as you’ll see, we were not disappointed.

But first things first - we had to get our bearings and see what Portofino had to offer. I guess your mindset has a huge impact on the way you experience life. But let’s face it, your surroundings count too. Portofino made Stan and I feel like film stars. From the moment we embarked at the harbour, we had goose bumps, we felt a million dollars walking through the streets. Everyone wanted to meet Stanley and learn more about him!

The first American couple we met wanted to take his photo. Seasoned Portofino visitors, they knew exactly where we should head. Go to Pucci, they said! And I think you’ll agree that the Pucci sign makes a fantastic backdrop for our latest celebrity Stanley Poochie! The good news is that Stanley hasn’t let fame go to his head. He knows what’s in fashion today can be gone tomorrow. So, he limited himself to window shopping. That made me breathe a sigh of relief! And it’s not his fault he didn’t know these Portofino brands have stood the test of time, influencing what we all wear, whatever our spending power.

At one point he thought it might be good to get a selfie at all the high end brands. But when he saw the plethora of shopping destinations on offer, he decided to play it cool and select only those that truly reflected his fashion sense. If he were to be totally honest, he stopped at Longchamp because the whole thing was quite exhausting and the chance of a little sit was too good to pass up.

Sitting in the Longchamp chair resulted in its own drama. Like any good Sealyham he asked to take his place on the chair before sitting down. The lady in the boutique was already peering through the glass doors at all the passers by. We got the definite sense that sitting on said chair without permission would solicit a reaction. So, we did the right thing! We asked and she smiled, waving us on.

Stanley felt confident in the decision and was relieved. However, within seconds of sitting an Italian lady became quite agitated and we couldn’t really understand why. Affronted that she might have thought we had sat down without permission, we felt compelled to explain. No, we really were told it was OK to sit down. Then she revealed the truth, the lady in the shop never let anyone sit in the chair. I have no idea what relationship dynamics existed between the Longchamp fashionista and the restauranteur next door, but one thing was sure, Stanley was special and was allowed to sit.

But the window shopping wasn’t the real reason we’d headed to Portofino, we were in search of 1950’s celebrities and evidence that Stan’s Sealyham relatives had been there before him. And, that’s what led us to the Hotel Splendido Belmond. Entering one of the world’s most beautiful hotels comes with some trepidation, but Stanley’s celebrity demeanour put me at ease.

‘Just go straight to reception and let them know we’re here’, he said. ‘

Wowk! I’m on it Stanley!’

And so, I did. And that’s when the lovely concierge provided us with evidence that, yes 1950’s film stars stayed there.

He graciously handed us two photographs taken at the hotel of Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor and Ava Gardner. Of them, we knew Burton and Taylor had a Sealyham, but Ava Gardner was a big fan of Corgis (the royal dog). I wonder if she’d known that Princess Margaret had a Sealyham she might have been tempted. Stanley has also done his own research. It’s not just humans that like Ancestry.com, As a breed that is very rare these days Stan was curious to learn about his relatives. It wasn’t just Burton and Taylor that loved Sealys - you can add Alfred Hitchcock, Lauren Bacall, Humphrey Bogart, Bette Davis, Cary Grant and Randolph Scott to the list. Cary Grant was so enamoured of his Sealyham that he gave him his own real name - Archie Leach. Hitchcock was so convinced of their acting abilities that he included them in his movie, The Birds (1963). Considering they visited and filmed in the region in the 1950’s we were hopeful that some of them would have brought their best friend with them on their trips. Sadly, we couldn’t find any evidence that Sealyhams accompanied their famous friends. If anyone knows the truth we would be delighted to learn it.

Whether we ever find physical evidence that they visited here back then, we hope Stanley’s convincing you of his star qualities. Sealyhams are an adorable breed!

Following in their footsteps - Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor

Liz Sproat 15/10/2023 Liz Sproat 15/10/2023

Tequila in Rapallo

See that got your attention … you’ll have to read on to find out what’s behind the headline!

I often struggle to sleep and last night was one of the worst. It had nothing to do with the bed which was super comfy. Perhaps it was the anticipation of the Mont Blanc tunnel. It is, therefore, no surprise that I found myself up and about at 4.45am and leaving the apartment for Liguria in the dark. There were a few surprise benefits to this unplanned early start. First of all, the Mont Blanc tunnel was almost entirely empty. Secondly, I was reminded that I have a terrible fear of heights. So exiting the tunnel in the dark, without the ability to see what is no doubt a precipitous view, was actually a relief. Lastly, and absolutely not least, I was rewarded with one of the most stunning sunrises I have seen in years. No filters were applied to the photograph.

Once through the tunnels (there is more than one), the road to Rapallo via Genoa is straightforward. I was reminded of the legacy of imperial rome as the straight road lead us to our destination.

Rapallo is a lovely town and arriving on a Sunday really made us feel at home. The last of the sunshine is providing sufficient warmth for a quick dip. Young and old were taking advantage of what may be their last in balmy temperatures. Stan and I chose to paddle - with Stan following it up with a good roll on the sandy beach. An antiques market provided a chance to browse, and further round the bay at the yacht club a group of older residents were joyfully listening to big band jazz tracks. By the end of the week I’ll hopefully be able to ask to take their photo in Italian.

Fortunately, I won’t be providing a full history of Rapallo - phew, I hear you cry. But it does have an interesting parallel with our first stop of the trip in Compeigne. Like Compeigne, treaties were signed here after the end of WW1. The first, between Italy and what was then Yugoslavia, awarded Istria to Italy and the Dalmation coast to Yugoslavia. The second, in 1922, brought about strengthened economic relations with Russia and Gernany. All comments and corrections on this welcome!

But the history I’m drawn to is that of the Sealyham Terrier itself. I’m on a mission to find the hotels that the 1950’s celebrities who owned Sealyham’s stayed in. Celebrities such as Elizabeth Taylor, Alfred Hitchcock, Princess Margaret, Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart were all fans of the fabulous breed and were known to visit the area. So, I headed for the Excelsior Hotel to see if any of them had ever stayed there. Sadly, no! The Excelsior has had its fair share of celebrities - Rita Hayworth, The Duke of Windsor and Wallace Simpson as well as Ernest Hemingway. Rita had a cocker spaniel name Pookles - I feel sure he would have been friends with Stanley Poochie. One thing Pookles and Stanley would have agreed on is that the Yacht Bar is no place for a cat. So imagine Stanley’s surprise when he met Tequila (there it is!) propping up the bar. Tequilla didn’t even give Stan a chance to get to know him and scampered for cover. It wasn’t so much Tequila’s existence that disturbed Stan’s normally calm restaurant demeanour. It was the smell of his food - so Stan got more of his share of my bread sticks than intended. Either way we were both happy, so who cares! I wonder if George Clooney (also an Excelsior visitor) knows that Rita was a fan of the cocker spaniel. Along with his pig and his basset hound - George has had two rescue cockers.

After our Excelsior adventure, and exhausted from the journey we strolled back to our apartment. Stan made everyone laugh on the way as he attempted to catch flies. Sadly, he failed but he had tons of fun trying. We got home and hoped Tequila hadn’t had one too many.