‘For me there is only one path, and that is the path with heart. And there I travel, and there I travel- looking, looking, breathlessly’

 don yuan (yaqui indian)

Our family thrives on change, there is no choice in the matter. Since meeting my husband that New Year’s eve in the late 90’s we have moved house ten times. Each time we move we renovate. Yep we live in the chaos….or should I say dance? Even growing up my family moved about. I remember which house we were in and where it was by the wallpaper Mum would choose. Pink checks, big yellow sunflowers, dark brown paisley floral, tiny green leaves on a white background.

Change….it’s nothing new to me.

Always having one foot in the next adventure leaves me a little disconnected. We make friends easily, keep them close, yet I often don’t feel as if I belong. We’re always in transit to somewhere else…no pets, no lovingly tended gardens, no constant friendships for our children. I miss that, of course I do. Yet just typing the words has my heart beating faster, Italy, adventure, the unknown, exploring, the World!

The changes wrought by travel leave tell tale signs, not only on your passport but in your very essence. Patience, compassion, caring, tolerance,the ability to be flexible, to change direction at the drop of a hat. Travel is a gift, the greatest you can receive, worth more than any treasure. It is the gift we give our children, these tiny people who can make friends in two minutes with even the most aloof soul.

Don’t get me wrong, the first six months living in Italy were spent hiding how much I wanted to return home. The women in my family could talk under water, I just figured Italian was something I would pick up. Not so, my husband’s family spoke dialect, a mix of Calabrese and Sicilian….we were living in Piemonte (even my husband who speaks fluently had no clue what the locals were saying).

It took a long time to embrace the life that I had chosen. Now it just flows in me like a river. It’s part of who I am, who my children are, mezza Italiana (especially our daughter who is all passion, drama and eloquent hands). Our little boy with those gorgeous brown eyes , olive skin, and looks that will break a few hearts. And of course Papa who is our driving force and greatest love.

Video kindly supplied with permission by Samarotto Design Group

and the gang x

 

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save Save

One of the more memorable homes we saw in Italy is this little one tucked under a natural ledge on the side of the mountain along Via Cave. I loved the thought of stepping out your front door straight on to the main road each morning. We walked over to see if anyone was home but no luck. Even the washing was frozen. Of all the places to build a house why here?

Another thing you will notice on the walls in Italy are the bulletin boards of death notices. These often  black-bordered papers are called necrologie and can be found everywhere …even on tiny houses under mountain ledges.

As we drove along Via Cave we found icicles formed all along the side of the cliff road where the water ran off. No wonder the washing was frozen.

If you know of any memorable homes in Italy I would love to see them.

ciao Lisa

 

Save

Save

Save

Once when visiting the Cinque Terre with a fairly “busty” friend of ours an old lady wandered over to us and said “si dovrebbe dare un pò del tuo per lei” (forgive me if the translation is a little out), which roughly translates to “You should give some of yours to her”.

The her in question being myself who is not blessed in the bosom department. What made us laugh, and still makes me smile today is the way she walked straight over to us, said this pointing from my friends ample chest to my pitiful one and then wandered away laughing.

I of course had no clue what she had said just got a good idea from the look of delighted outrage on my friends face.

You just have to love the Italians…


The other Cinque Terre moment that stuck in my mind is the tiny balcony filled to the brim with freshly washed soft toys, our daughter spotted Po (the red telly tubby) and Luca saw Pooh Bear and that was the end of our tranquil walk down to the ocean. We had to stop and wave to Pooh and Po and take some photos. Passersby stopped to smile and look up with us, and perhaps remember their own favorite childhood toy.

and the gang x