The first time I came to Italy, I was seven. You forgot to mention Italian cats.
My mother could bribe me to go to any art gallery or palazzo in Rome by telling me we would go to Caesar's prisons to visit the Kitten Nursery run by two aged Nonnas.
Every ruin I went to in Rome included cats. There were cats attached to restaurants on the Via Veneto. My favorite restaurant had a black cat who was fed in the evening from scraps left by customers.
Italy is lovely and beloved, partly because of her cats. <3 <3 <3
Oh, it's so true! There is a colony that lives around the Pyramid next to the Protestant Cemetery in Rome, and they are adorable. Some of them have infiltrated the cemetery itself, and then laze around on the monuments. I'm going to miss that terribly.
Istanbul has even MORE kitties. Entire herds of them. Turks love cats.
I sooooo miss your brilliant, earthy, sensual, writing.
File this one away...the last line of the novel..."che cazzo vuoi."
Your photos make me swoon with thoughts of the past. In 1970 I moved to Europe and worked for a travel company....
Based in Zurich. Italy became my LOVE...my passion. I didn't return to the State's for 10 months. As I write...I can't stop crying. Your photos flood my mind with long forgotten cherished memories.
I love you, Swale! Always have, always will. I know exactly why you didn't return to the States for the better part of a year. Italy has that effect on people. But no worries. We see this move as a hiatus, not a permanent removal. We may not be able to live here as not-yet-retired people, but someday we'll retire, and I hope Italy will receive us. It's an amazing country, like you say. And I really really hope to see you soon.
You mentioned the light in California and Italy: my friends Vicki & Rich Walsh have this marvelous house on a hillside well off of any heavily traveled roads, overlooking hill side orchards, all of which within about 10 -- 15 miles of the coast. I've often thought the comparison was with Tuscany, though I've never been there to see for myself.
The nearest I've ever come to living in a foreign country, I was living ON and army base, so the experience was less than full immersion. For all of that, there was nothing about Germany that really choked me up when I said goodbye. There's a part of me that always dreams of retiring somewhere tropical, near a beach, where I can hang out as the Old American Writer, sipping rum drinks in a cabana, maybe offering the occasional colorful story to a curious bystander, and otherwise writing, taking care of my cats, and watching the sunsets.
Oh, I love that thought for you! Sort of like Van Gogh and Hemingway rolled into a tropical rum drink and served with an extra helping of curmudgeon ;-)
I've been hiding here, Gares. At least partly. I think it's time for me to go flex my muscles again, even though I really really don't want to.
I know I've mentioned that Italy has never been on my bucket list, but what I WILL miss are your descriptions of Italy. You see the country in a way that I never could, and I've come to cherish that perspective. Who knows? Perhaps you'll come to see some of that in New York City.
Oh, if only you would! How fun would that be? And no worries, Jack. I have nine years' worth of memories to draw on. I'm quite certain I'll continue to write about Italy, and now I can write about NYC, too, plus my own ridiculous self. Rich fodder.
Love the post and the writing. Sad for you to be leaving Italy. I have learned so much in your posts- and look forward to my turn to visit when it finally happens. Happy 2023!
In this, and the preceding article, you have rapturously summed up your experience in Italy. Your regret at having to leave is palpable and seemingly tangible because of the artistry of your writing. Your missives about Italy over the years are memoir magnificence. My heart goes out to you for having to leave this complex, confounding, sumptuous, and deeply gratifying country. But I grieve not only for you but for Italy too, for it is losing one of it's greatest foreign born natives in it's history. Because I am hopeful and inexhaustibly positive, I am certain that you and your inamorata nation will one day be reunited; viva Italia!
GOOD HEAVENS, that was a kind thing to say, Andrew. I'm actually blushing! It's always unseemly when a woman my age blushes. It oughtn't to be seen in public.
I have to see this as just a continuation of the adventure. Which it is. And I hope Italy isn't done with me. I'm certainly not done with her. I will continue to draw from memories of Italy and write about them. Only now there will be an admixture of Manhattan stories, too.
My life has been hard in many respects, but it has rarely been boring. Yours, too, I suspect.
The first time I came to Italy, I was seven. You forgot to mention Italian cats.
My mother could bribe me to go to any art gallery or palazzo in Rome by telling me we would go to Caesar's prisons to visit the Kitten Nursery run by two aged Nonnas.
Every ruin I went to in Rome included cats. There were cats attached to restaurants on the Via Veneto. My favorite restaurant had a black cat who was fed in the evening from scraps left by customers.
Italy is lovely and beloved, partly because of her cats. <3 <3 <3
Oh, it's so true! There is a colony that lives around the Pyramid next to the Protestant Cemetery in Rome, and they are adorable. Some of them have infiltrated the cemetery itself, and then laze around on the monuments. I'm going to miss that terribly.
Istanbul has even MORE kitties. Entire herds of them. Turks love cats.
OMG...
I sooooo miss your brilliant, earthy, sensual, writing.
File this one away...the last line of the novel..."che cazzo vuoi."
Your photos make me swoon with thoughts of the past. In 1970 I moved to Europe and worked for a travel company....
Based in Zurich. Italy became my LOVE...my passion. I didn't return to the State's for 10 months. As I write...I can't stop crying. Your photos flood my mind with long forgotten cherished memories.
I can see you stage a photo exhibit in New York.
Can't wait to finally meet John.
Love đŸ’•đŸ’•
Swale
I love you, Swale! Always have, always will. I know exactly why you didn't return to the States for the better part of a year. Italy has that effect on people. But no worries. We see this move as a hiatus, not a permanent removal. We may not be able to live here as not-yet-retired people, but someday we'll retire, and I hope Italy will receive us. It's an amazing country, like you say. And I really really hope to see you soon.
You mentioned the light in California and Italy: my friends Vicki & Rich Walsh have this marvelous house on a hillside well off of any heavily traveled roads, overlooking hill side orchards, all of which within about 10 -- 15 miles of the coast. I've often thought the comparison was with Tuscany, though I've never been there to see for myself.
The nearest I've ever come to living in a foreign country, I was living ON and army base, so the experience was less than full immersion. For all of that, there was nothing about Germany that really choked me up when I said goodbye. There's a part of me that always dreams of retiring somewhere tropical, near a beach, where I can hang out as the Old American Writer, sipping rum drinks in a cabana, maybe offering the occasional colorful story to a curious bystander, and otherwise writing, taking care of my cats, and watching the sunsets.
Oh, I love that thought for you! Sort of like Van Gogh and Hemingway rolled into a tropical rum drink and served with an extra helping of curmudgeon ;-)
I've been hiding here, Gares. At least partly. I think it's time for me to go flex my muscles again, even though I really really don't want to.
I know I've mentioned that Italy has never been on my bucket list, but what I WILL miss are your descriptions of Italy. You see the country in a way that I never could, and I've come to cherish that perspective. Who knows? Perhaps you'll come to see some of that in New York City.
Oh, if only you would! How fun would that be? And no worries, Jack. I have nine years' worth of memories to draw on. I'm quite certain I'll continue to write about Italy, and now I can write about NYC, too, plus my own ridiculous self. Rich fodder.
Someone once told me that if you can laugh at yourself, you will never lack for entertainment.
You actually think you can stay away? Italy's a nonna. She knows different.
SO TRUE. Italy is a clucking, disapproval nonna who knows what's best for me even when I don't. Your score: 100.
Love the post and the writing. Sad for you to be leaving Italy. I have learned so much in your posts- and look forward to my turn to visit when it finally happens. Happy 2023!
I'll still write about Italy, dearest Swale. I feel as though I haven't even begun. And a happy 2023 to you, too!
In this, and the preceding article, you have rapturously summed up your experience in Italy. Your regret at having to leave is palpable and seemingly tangible because of the artistry of your writing. Your missives about Italy over the years are memoir magnificence. My heart goes out to you for having to leave this complex, confounding, sumptuous, and deeply gratifying country. But I grieve not only for you but for Italy too, for it is losing one of it's greatest foreign born natives in it's history. Because I am hopeful and inexhaustibly positive, I am certain that you and your inamorata nation will one day be reunited; viva Italia!
GOOD HEAVENS, that was a kind thing to say, Andrew. I'm actually blushing! It's always unseemly when a woman my age blushes. It oughtn't to be seen in public.
I have to see this as just a continuation of the adventure. Which it is. And I hope Italy isn't done with me. I'm certainly not done with her. I will continue to draw from memories of Italy and write about them. Only now there will be an admixture of Manhattan stories, too.
My life has been hard in many respects, but it has rarely been boring. Yours, too, I suspect.