As I self-describe myself, I’m a Nordic creature. I am very used, and much in love, with the peace given by following the rules, getting all tucked up in layers, and being surrounded by green and blu sceneries, especially if gifted, from time to time, by white snowflakes.
I know, I sound like a broken record and every time I travel south I start blabbering about it, but desert somehow makes me uncomfortable. I have, anyhow, found the perfect balance when I travel during autumn and winter time to southern locations, such as I did with Palermo.
It turned out to be a delightful weekend, marked in my memories to come “The Palermo Affair”.
So much to tell. First, people are vocal, loud and generally happier than the people I met in northern Italy. How come, since the city is, in fact, a tropical mess? The walks ups and downs the city center made me believe that it’s a mix of factors, such as the sun – less aggressive this time of the year – and the food that make the difference.
Hey, it’s for sure not roses and unicorns, lots of houses and streets are just broken and decadent, you can tell the majority doesn’t live a pretty rich life, and some parts leaves you with a sense of unsafeness, but for some aspects, it looked a nice place to spend holiday, maybe also to live for a bit.
Second thing, the landing was in one of the most impressive set ever, between a mountain and the sea. So peculiar, so lovely.
Another thing I noticed was the unusually high number of shops for male clothing, that you can combine with the fact that men are quite attentive – and again vocal -to women, you get the idea that Sicily is still pretty much a male-based community… I can hear Trump cheering.
On the bad note, I spoke with some of them, especially at the restaurants where I had incredibly-good-but-overpriced fresh fish, and they all told me I do not look Italian. So they were applying the price for foreigners.
Anyhow, I spent two days roaming around the streets, visiting the x wonderful baroque churches, visiting the street markets, eating yummy fish and soaking up under the sun at the harbour. It was a positive getaway weekend, indeed.
Remember me to go more often to a seaside city. The sea is food for soul.
I really wanted to vent about Bruxelles, city I didn’t like and could not wait to leave, but in the end I found out I had few nice shots of the capital.
So here’s a selection of the snaps taken by my trusted LX100, dedicated to Fabio.
I was reading a novel on the plane, there was a love story involved. I knew it would have ended well, so I was keeping reading it to soak in the energy, and get the best of the trip, planned during – I would dare to say – the most uncertain time of my life, my trip to Belgium.
Talking about uncertainty, the Belgium weather was the worst frenemy ever. It was like that adorable friend of yours who is also a total jerk. The result is a constant change of light, fear of water getting into my precious camera and a never-ending struggle adjusting the lens for pictures. Yet, there is an adorable part, and it’s called Ghent.
Bruges is a gem, but Ghent is the real deal. Especially at night, the all those beautiful white and brick houses reflects on the canals. So dreamy.
So, in the end, what matters if it rained all day? Those 30 minutes of sun and the evenings were just perfect. A perfect travel love story.
Back in June I wrote an essay about my first 6 months spent in glory 2016. I wrote about my journeys, physical and emotional ones, from winter to early summer, and this summer -let me tell you- has been quite a ride too, that I’ll write down soon (very soon, promise).
One of the best moments was when I rented a car and drove with two old friends somewhere in Germany, at the border with Poland, to see a bridge. Now, it may sounds strange that three individuals go to see a bridge, none of them super particularly interested -nor expert- in architecture. But believe me, this daily trip to a random town was special. That small town has a park, in it there’s one of the weirdest bridges ever built.
Its German name is Rakotzbrücke.
What makes people want to go there is its reflection, more than its construction. The bridge can create a perfect circle when it is reflected in the waters beneath it, and believe me, it’s magic to look at. Yes, it’s an illusion, I am aware of it, but having to walk around made me appreciate the moment so much, and it wasn’t an illusion, it was a connection.
Was it the Devil’s outcome, then?
Everybody is wondering and wandering in life. Us three wandered around the park, and wondered. I kinda feel like we all three walked that bridge, somehow. Three completely different stories, yet all poignant. Being there together was such an unique moment to share, and I humbly felt happy to rekindle our friendship with that road trip. Devil’s trick, for sure.
Of course, that bridge was too yummy to not filter it
Special thanks to…
And by the way… “OH MY GOD this is my favourite song ever!” 🙂
A windy evening of May, I landed in Malta.
The first stop, after copious raining, was a wet and charming Valletta at dusk. The city was empty, colourful, fascinating.
Upper Barrakka Gardens are the perfect point at sunset, they give you a glimpse of the contrast between the walled city and the sea. Be sure to head there once, you won’t be disappointed.
While strolling, I remember thinking how Valletta looked like an infinite catwalk. The street are the perfect (red) carpets, ups and downs of baroque charme, old houses and the walls to frame the scenery. There I wished I was a fashion photographer, taking pictures of beautiful people at every corner, every street. I ain’t a photographer, yet I had however, my trustful camera, to capture the vibes of the place, and a handsome fella, to explore arm in arm: the odds were in my favour that evening.
The city is anything but luxury, yet it has that certain rich appeal that only a Mediterranean city can pass to you. And I was content with that, with that shots, with that trip.
Can we agree to say that quietness looked so strange? There, there were some cats, soaking up the last ray of sun in the evening. Quiet, posh, and avoiding in every case your attention. Or the camera… paparazzi style…
… That’s right, at the end of the day, Valletta, so empty, looked like an old Hollywood movie.
The Mediterranean colours called, in May. Hello, Malta.
What an excitement to go for a little adventure, especially during low season, especially if it involves the sea and the perfect month to enjoy the good weather without a scorched skin. Yet, the weather was rather unpredictable…
MY FAULT: I was asking for beautiful sunny-but-not-hot days and karma graced me with unchangeable, sunny-but-pretty-cold weather. Bar the complaints, its landscape was stunning.
I am a nordic creature, amazed to see how many shades of brown and yellow an island down south can have. I’m used to green, but I liked what I saw, especially from the boat. There’s something magic with floating on open sea, and navigating around islands and its cliffs. And I felt light, kinda dreamy.
With only 2 full days and no car, you got kinda limited time to visit all.
The plan was to divide and conquer: the most famous cities Valletta, Mdina; a day in Gozo, mixing Victoria with some beach time (my tolerance once with a swim suit lasted exactly 1:22 minutes but hey); smaller but charming places, like Sliema and the fishing village of Marsaxlokk (where I ate the most delicious grilled octopus ever). Props to the bus and ferry system, quite good and easy to use (and a tip for you, get the 7-Day Explore Card!!).
I leave here few snaps of the places visited. Enjoy.