tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11974297523107955542024-03-18T19:29:13.615+00:00View From The High PeakPerspectives on life
Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.comBlogger331125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-83696709688143321782024-03-11T09:23:00.002+00:002024-03-11T09:23:59.477+00:00New Post at The Gardening Habit - Seasonal Notes <p>Just to let you know that I have written a new post on my gardening blog, <a href="https://thegardeninghabit.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Gardening Habit</a>, called ‘Seasonal Notes - January’ and you can find it <a href="https://thegardeninghabit.blogspot.com/2024/03/seasonal-notes-january.html" target="_blank">here</a>. It is the first of what I plan to be a little series on noting the changes in the garden on a monthly basis (even if retrospectively!) both as a way to keep me writing and a way to get me out into the garden more regularly! </p><p>The last 12 months were challenging both personally and meterologically. Time has not been my own and it has been so wet and soggy that I have not felt much inclination to garden anyway - and we certainly haven’t been outside just enjoying it! I also gave up on vegetable growing last year for all these reasons, but hope to be more enthusiastic about it this year - if only it would stop raining! </p><p>In the post I touch on climate change as well as gardening at altitude with all the complications of weather, wind, temperature and a short growing season. Despite my horticultural training, it is challenging at the best of times, but I am hoping to re-find my mojo and find ways around some of the issues and re-connect more deeply with the garden I have tended and loved so deeply from the moment I first laid eyes on it 21 years ago. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZTg_t2jMioMvgMUhQ7NCVm_r8ztChUS3oIfbzj_GGDQLERxRa-AO_ffZZWDlM4Wqog-JGYB5IfnK5dS-r3QDd5zgVYFFWVfA2Uz2627qoKB7_G2CVmDqYg1t2SHJBa_DO9nxwd7UBI9i8roXQ1CUx8rKEMZ7MNGHWTi4YuVwdKXZz-n0rFC9sW402rKF7/s4032/IMG_8413.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZTg_t2jMioMvgMUhQ7NCVm_r8ztChUS3oIfbzj_GGDQLERxRa-AO_ffZZWDlM4Wqog-JGYB5IfnK5dS-r3QDd5zgVYFFWVfA2Uz2627qoKB7_G2CVmDqYg1t2SHJBa_DO9nxwd7UBI9i8roXQ1CUx8rKEMZ7MNGHWTi4YuVwdKXZz-n0rFC9sW402rKF7/w480-h640/IMG_8413.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAAHp4d57z7DzWpTD4DCi_zfPdtlKKdz4HDWyxtF7EXEJTGQBgq9f5C2dloPlNBG6L4LGXCVQQzxpTMo7B-Z3nc3sg-QcGeeuDK25tixGPVbpn5iaGkOS2umUYpSBvZDZ4RHfAwT1-cOKPYAj3tmWMhatt9B7H9T_0UIP-BL8J7qJWYRXhCE0zYTXD2W5M/s4032/IMG_8414.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAAHp4d57z7DzWpTD4DCi_zfPdtlKKdz4HDWyxtF7EXEJTGQBgq9f5C2dloPlNBG6L4LGXCVQQzxpTMo7B-Z3nc3sg-QcGeeuDK25tixGPVbpn5iaGkOS2umUYpSBvZDZ4RHfAwT1-cOKPYAj3tmWMhatt9B7H9T_0UIP-BL8J7qJWYRXhCE0zYTXD2W5M/w480-h640/IMG_8414.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-30965757104140859822024-02-05T13:23:00.000+00:002024-02-05T13:23:41.669+00:002024 and Me: To Write or Not to Write? That is the Question!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXujS3SbPO9GD3fEuzM2aedi-5DO4UYYsBgw7h4VVKC3GaxiYfKzHSWR5RLYZt3PGDmTthMab4O_w3jzxBAs6hEU0h39-_zPrRK_ZbkRQSmATXloQExobeuQHVUo1ioVQDQLxpNJHNL6RD1lnbaKwRykYpJsNjLNgXegfqma77BKegKuqt_GIZhyTz2r10/s4032/IMG_0485.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXujS3SbPO9GD3fEuzM2aedi-5DO4UYYsBgw7h4VVKC3GaxiYfKzHSWR5RLYZt3PGDmTthMab4O_w3jzxBAs6hEU0h39-_zPrRK_ZbkRQSmATXloQExobeuQHVUo1ioVQDQLxpNJHNL6RD1lnbaKwRykYpJsNjLNgXegfqma77BKegKuqt_GIZhyTz2r10/w480-h640/IMG_0485.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>A long time ago I realised that the only time I am truly happy is when I am writing. I have spent decades wondering what I should be doing with my life, why am I here, what is my purpose…and there is one answer that keeps coming back at me like a boomerang: I must write. <p></p><p>I have even occasionally posed the question to old friends who’ve known me since forever: ‘So what do <i>you </i>think I should be doing?’ And they all say ‘write’. </p><p>An equally long time ago I had ambitions to be a columnist. And if not that then a medical writer. And if not that then a ski writer. And if not that then a travel writer. And if not that then a freelance writer. And if not that then a magazine editor. And if not that then a sub-editor. And if not that then a copywriter. I think we can spot a theme here, can’t we?! Oh, and when we went to live in Italy, I wanted to write a book about that, in the style of Peter Mayle’s famous ‘A Year In Provence’. I did actually start it but my ‘Videowriter’ computer overheated one day and melted the disc and I lost the lot. Many tears, I can assure you. But no book. </p><p>Truth to tell, I have, I suppose, done most of the things that I wanted to do in that above list: I write about health in my healing blog which I started once I became a reiki healer and house energy healer; I write about food and the influences of Italy in my food blog; I write about gardening in my garden blog; I have written freelance articles on skiing; I have written freelance articles on travel; I have written press releases as a travel PR; I have written, produced and edited a client magazine when I worked for a travel company; I have written huge amounts of travel brochure copy and other bits of copywriting. But I have never been a columnist (unless you count blogging as that, which I suppose, in a way, it is…?); and I have not yet written a book which has become a standing joke (‘How’s the book going?’) amongst family and friends. </p><p>So…my resolution for 2024 is WRITE! Write more on my blogs, for sure, but also write that wretched book! It’s been on my ‘To Do’ list for 30 years. I think that’s enough. So I’m going to chant the mantra ‘Write, Write, Write’ on a daily basis and I am going to guard my time so that I can write. Perhaps, most significantly, I am going to give myself <i>permission</i> to write. I have long reflected why I self-sabotage the writing aspect of my being: and what I have realised is that my father was ‘The Writer’ in the family - a career journalist since the age of 15 with many accolades and successes, primarily within sport, and Winter Sports in particular. It was very much his territory which he guarded fiercely and being a sensitive soul, I realise now how much that has held me back. </p><p>The next thorny issue, with regard to the book at least, is what sort of book do I write? I have started many and finished none as my life has evolved and moved on. It certainly won’t be anything historical or fantastical, and it won’t be a Mills & Boon romance or a bodice ripper! It may involve love, in more subtle ways, or it may involve healing, or it may involve ghost stories. It may be a novella, or short stories, or it may be a bit longer. It may be fiction, it may be non-fiction…</p><p>One thing I do know is that it is best to write about your own experience so perhaps, as I enter my 7th decade, this is indeed the moment that I have been waiting for all my life…<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><br /></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-45795418556625118752023-10-21T15:41:00.001+01:002023-10-21T15:41:08.563+01:00New Post over at The Gardening Habit - A Potter Around my Autumn Garden<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_DMc602drpJl6CsoPdNPd0rD9mlqIt6c7BrZ-J6v_YNSRYxHRWTDXT1FDpd1tM64zW8NyStx2h1LArZdM_JnqLVMfrQwtX1IWeYsBneNM2BOtRYKTc7xKcmWkbl2VjP45WpZzRpWJ6z76kTcNwA9MdkA2VRCuMuTo4jVnVkhSDK96aRcxqlR-ebfpHJcc/s4032/IMG_6207.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_DMc602drpJl6CsoPdNPd0rD9mlqIt6c7BrZ-J6v_YNSRYxHRWTDXT1FDpd1tM64zW8NyStx2h1LArZdM_JnqLVMfrQwtX1IWeYsBneNM2BOtRYKTc7xKcmWkbl2VjP45WpZzRpWJ6z76kTcNwA9MdkA2VRCuMuTo4jVnVkhSDK96aRcxqlR-ebfpHJcc/w480-h640/IMG_6207.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><p>Just a quick note to say that after way too long, I have just published a new post on my garden blog, <a href="https://thegardeninghabit.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Gardening Habit</a>. I don’t know where the time has gone this year (well, actually I do!) and I haven’t been able to write as much as I’d have wanted to. The garden, though, is always there and always brings me pleasure and solace in every season. Isn’t that the joy of gardening? So if you would like to have a potter around it this month, then please do click <a href="https://thegardeninghabit.blogspot.com/2023/10/a-potter-around-my-garden-thoughts-and.html" target="_blank">here</a> for some wistful words and photos of the plants that are still flowering or in fruition this month. </p><p style="text-align: left;">I hope you’re having a wonderful weekend and that at least part of it includes some time enveloped in Nature. Always so therapeutic after the working week. 💚</p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-89902734142082669452023-10-09T10:35:00.005+01:002023-10-09T21:15:15.942+01:00Deadly Seas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmYUvzU4SURpuadXugNkpw1m1CoazUGiYnZyGh5CaJf_R3lp1akBf2zx5EDKNrOdzCkYrn21QyK5YVyVAFd9cCtISgbghqX4LQHX1k_k6kEm8pJixc3S6KVjStQn_R9Djqfa1eVkXVBrLQXtalMD1aBAxAfVNLLdJlPC7PYJtKqq_dPAS4J33qul-sWLY/s4032/IMG_6357.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmYUvzU4SURpuadXugNkpw1m1CoazUGiYnZyGh5CaJf_R3lp1akBf2zx5EDKNrOdzCkYrn21QyK5YVyVAFd9cCtISgbghqX4LQHX1k_k6kEm8pJixc3S6KVjStQn_R9Djqfa1eVkXVBrLQXtalMD1aBAxAfVNLLdJlPC7PYJtKqq_dPAS4J33qul-sWLY/w640-h480/IMG_6357.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p><i><u>5th October, 2023</u></i></p><p>This was the view that greeted us as we walked down to the beach from the top of the dune the following day (<i>see <a href="https://viewfromthehighpeak.blogspot.com/2023/10/running-away.html#more" target="_blank">previous post</a></i>). The sea looked relatively benign (for these parts) and inviting. We chose our spot on the sand, planted our umbrellas, spread our towels and then headed towards the ocean for a dip. I choose the word ‘dip’ very carefully: it is rare that the sea on this Atlantic coast of the Bay of Biscay is calm enough to what one might term ‘swim’. Usually it’s all about picking your spot wisely (you need to know the beach and its currents well), observing the waves and timing your entry into the water. And a golden rule is ‘never turn your back on the waves’. Even on exiting, make sure you are glancing backwards all the time, a bit like when you are driving a car and looking in your rear view mirror: you need to know what’s going on behind you as well as in front of you to stay as safe as possible. </p><p>At this time of year there are no lifeguards on this beach. They left at the end of September and won’t return till next summer. So you are really on your own and have to be extra vigilant. We tried one spot and decided it wasn’t optimal as it was a lagoon so we moved further to our left where the water was shallower. There was a bit of a cross-current here and we kept our feet firmly on the ground - the moment you lose touch with the sand you can feel the undertow tugging at you and it is all too easy to find yourself suddenly further out than is safe - unless you have a surfboard or flippers that is. </p><p>The late summer sea is a beautiful temperature, having been warmed in the summer months, but is still cool enough to be refreshing and you always come out grateful that you’re still alive (my golden rule is ‘get out while the going is still good!’), but invigorated and happy. </p><p>After our dip we wandered back up the beach to our towels and embarked on our picnic lunch. We were eating and chatting away when suddenly we noticed some young lads a little way in front of us rushing off diagonally towards the shoreline, followed soon after by another man from somewhere behind us. It caught our attention and our gaze followed them to be met with a group of people, some distance away, huddled around someone frantically doing CPR on a person laid out on the sand that, mercifully, we could not see, but where we had exited the water just 15 minutes or so earlier. Two dogs were trotting around the group, tales wagging, clearly oblivious to the drama but excited by all the people. It was a tragic juxtaposition of innocent animal pleasure, compounded by all the other lives on the beach which were going on as normal. We wondered briefly if the dogs belonged to the poor person on the sand, and if he’d been walking them along the beach when disaster struck, but it became clear that this was not the case and that he had been pulled from the sea by a surfer. </p><p>I do not want to go into any more details about the human tragedy which unfolded before our eyes beyond the fact that the bystanders who were helping dissipated when the professionals finally arrived (not easy in this part of the world as the emergency services are few and far between): first the local police, then the firemen in black (who are the first responders in France), then some lifeguards in yellow and red from the resort many kilometres up the beach who’d rushed in their buggy as fast as they could to offer assistance, and then finally the medics, all in white. For well over an hour everyone did their very best, but sadly their efforts were futile. A happy day at the beach for two couples who’d witnessed the same beautiful vista as us as they arrived, ended in unexpected tragedy. The images I have in my mind’s eye of those three desolate people, united in disbelief, shock and grief will stay with me for a long time; the most humbling and poignant being the partner of the victim who had remained separate and hunched from the scene throughout, suddenly falling to her knees on the sand as she walked back from the formalities of the death as the reality of her loss began to sink in. </p><p>I am aware how such trauma can leave its energetic mark and how the soul of a person who is struck down unexpectedly like this may get trapped, so before we left the beach that sad and surreal day, we went quietly down to the shore where the physical marks of all that human effort still remained as witnesses on the unwashed sand. At a slight distance, we unobtrusively offered up our own prayers and respects for the lost life of a stranger in this wildly beautiful but often deadly coastal landscape. I had a dialogue with the soul, the sea and the Universe to transform the trauma energies into peace and acceptance. My friend had no notion of what I was saying or doing as she gazed out to sea, lost in her own communion, but she said she suddenly felt icy cold with goosebumps on her arms. I pray that this was the release that was necessary, a transformation of energies brought about by unconditional divine love and universal wisdom together with the powerful respect and compassion that strangers can have for each other, so amply displayed on the beach that tragic afternoon. For my friend and I who return to this beach daily, usually giving us so much joy, it was also an act of closure as the grief we had witnessed touched us to our very core. Indeed, there was undoubtedly a silent sense of collective mourning, tangible in the air, as each and everyone of us came to terms with what we had just witnessed. Why had we stayed? Because there was a vain hope, just as the victim’s friends surely had, that a miracle would happen and we would see the happy ending that never came.</p><p>And as we walked away, the waves kept singing their rhythmic song and slowly washed away the sad story that unfolded on these golden shores one Thursday afternoon in October…</p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-66536826199744516882023-10-06T12:47:00.001+01:002023-10-06T12:47:33.776+01:00Running Away<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjar6ldUu4I04DVG3GVJMpS4Y9xDVGx-geXbGKxRVvJmx79ZffAHfeCuMbmQiX4xC2pgFIyzUGcfJ6JnPTNPfhueW9iQnejBcPSt05svFRHIJE1XgTTGuDNna6BO4w6FKEfp6O9MRujzlR3PH-tRcRS03pMjWRVX1gSl5oTYJgov0U7_avSWvxHRVF_GKNY/s4032/IMG_6345.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjar6ldUu4I04DVG3GVJMpS4Y9xDVGx-geXbGKxRVvJmx79ZffAHfeCuMbmQiX4xC2pgFIyzUGcfJ6JnPTNPfhueW9iQnejBcPSt05svFRHIJE1XgTTGuDNna6BO4w6FKEfp6O9MRujzlR3PH-tRcRS03pMjWRVX1gSl5oTYJgov0U7_avSWvxHRVF_GKNY/w640-h480/IMG_6345.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p>So it turns out I wasn’t as sanguine about the approaching dark months as I thought! Having had some things in my diary cancelled and comparing the relentlessly dreadful weather for the coming week in North West England with the clear blue skies of South West France, I’m afraid the latter won the day. So I hopped on a cheap flight back to the place I’d left barely two weeks ago to enjoy some much needed me-time after a summer ‘holiday’ which had proved more exhausting than relaxing and a year that has been physically and emotionally challenging. </p><p>It is one of our rituals to rush down to the sea for the first sunset of our arrival, and as I drove down in my little hired Fiat 500, hoping to make it in time before the golden orb disappeared behind the horizon, I mused on how we had done the very same dash on our last night here just two weeks ago. But oh, what a difference those two weeks have made. The sunset is earlier, the light has changed, the holidaymakers have gone, most things are shut and there is a tranquillity which is tangible. </p><p>I got to the top of the dune just as the sun touched the darkening seas, its diffused rays painting the sky with licks of red and pink and gold. I joined my friend down on the beach and poured us each a tumbler of wine to toast our happy reunion in this place we both love and which she is lucky enough to call home. We stayed there talking till the sky was dark, the stars were out and even the late evening surfers had called it a day. The early October night was warm and still, the golden sand soft and cool underfoot and all was well with my world as the ocean lulled us into a false sense of security…</p><p><br /></p><p><i>(To be continued)</i></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-17199136653713069552023-09-30T19:27:00.003+01:002023-10-01T01:54:55.705+01:00Saying Goodbye to Summer<p>I have to admit, that after a summer in south west France, I have been struggling to settle back into Peak District life. We returned to grey, wet and cold - hardly the golden Septembers we all yearn for. For this can be such a lovely time of year as the days slowly shorten and the shadows lengthen, while all around is bathed in burnished light…</p><p>Not so this year. Our English summer has run true to its worst form: some early heat in late May and June and then a slow slide into sogginess throughout July and most of August, and now a soggy September too, it seems. </p><p>We have been lucky to escape since August through to mid September, but I have found it especially difficult this year to adjust to the dull greys and greens of northwest England after the dazzling blues and golds of summer by a southerly sea. It is not just light behind the retina, it is also the warmth in the bones that I miss. Time effortlessly spent outside, being warmed by the sun and cooled by a salty sea. A life ‘al fresco’ with your feet in the sand and your body washed by those glorious aquamarine Atlantic waters; convivial meals in the warm night air and mornings filled with the hope of a bright new day. All of this would be so much easier to give up if we had an Indian summer to come home to, or if we had had a less disastrously wet July, denying us the undisputed joys of a good English summer.</p><p>This last couple of weeks of planetary activity, of geomagnetic storms and Autumn Equinox has certainly not helped the more sensitive amongst us to feel settled, but bit by bit, day by day, I am getting there. As September passes into October this weekend, I feel that this strange period of limbo - between the turbulent end of summer and the beginning of true Autumn - is finally coming to an end. Soon we will be in the right season to feel chilly outside, and to want to warm ourselves by the heat of a roaring fire; we will watch the leaves of the trees, still green now, turn to the reds, browns, oranges and yellows of Autumn which we all love so much. We will see the mists rising in the mornings o’er land and lakes, and our breath condensing in front of us as we kick through fallen leaves and splash through muddy puddles. It is the time of year to prepare for hibernation: to gather the fruits of summer and turn them into preserved delights for the winter months; to clasp one’s cold hands around a warm mug of tea after a day of clearing leaves in the garden; to tidy away one’s outside life and to re-adjust to a life indoors…</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sMWegilyJtbnP9bRlZ0uU5f2mOhF8WYm_1kkGN0fEOdi8nJfiiMmZ1Ht5CC-u71V5h9xt6W67aEPomtOkXqFgzHiedztSf3psq8OLpemZP4Y1seljDTSIqrnLXZGRnlzIgJ8Iv_DVfAi4wiT4Wz8Fm8WxTpogKzrdFprPESFIHCsQWa1s_UEQi7puEEM/s4032/IMG_5666.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sMWegilyJtbnP9bRlZ0uU5f2mOhF8WYm_1kkGN0fEOdi8nJfiiMmZ1Ht5CC-u71V5h9xt6W67aEPomtOkXqFgzHiedztSf3psq8OLpemZP4Y1seljDTSIqrnLXZGRnlzIgJ8Iv_DVfAi4wiT4Wz8Fm8WxTpogKzrdFprPESFIHCsQWa1s_UEQi7puEEM/w640-h480/IMG_5666.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p><br /></p><p>, </p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-35794657257713053502023-09-28T18:55:00.004+01:002023-10-09T00:14:31.899+01:00New Blog Post! The second instalment of My Spiritual Journey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDo5p8c6wA5AUW08f29BtFVCErpdg-lRxNYE_3XMYmKzy_08jLp0P7BRls9N2WVbAn5BCsH9I3vr37AGr_sNrrSQZ2zrt-7zIGzPAdQ4jBKUfXkEIDWHZ4CY-BIZxA3dEL82FcBLFOAX5Kp9bxD76hi83OSpCexKCXWzsd0H98FMP3aXssEePwlATeANye/s3024/IMG_1256.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDo5p8c6wA5AUW08f29BtFVCErpdg-lRxNYE_3XMYmKzy_08jLp0P7BRls9N2WVbAn5BCsH9I3vr37AGr_sNrrSQZ2zrt-7zIGzPAdQ4jBKUfXkEIDWHZ4CY-BIZxA3dEL82FcBLFOAX5Kp9bxD76hi83OSpCexKCXWzsd0H98FMP3aXssEePwlATeANye/w640-h640/IMG_1256.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>It’s good to be back writing a blog post - even if this one is only to say that I have published part 2 of ‘My Spiritual Journey’ over at the Healing Habit. If you are interested in following the story, then please just click <a href="https://thehealinghabit.blogspot.com/2023/09/my-spiritual-journey-part-2.html" target="_blank">here</a> to be taken right to it.</p><p>It was not an easy post to write as it is so very personal. Yet I feel that I need to share my experience, because isn’t that why we are in this world? To experience, and to share what one learns from that experience?</p><p>If any of you out there have experienced similar things, then I’d love to hear from you in comments. The world is shifting at the moment - but like a container ship, it takes a lot of momentum to turn the vessel around. I sense we are moving, very slowly, towards higher levels of consciousness - whether that be in our understanding of how we treat Mother Earth, or how we treat our fellow man, it does not matter. What is important is that we are all becoming, together, more aware of our responsibilities towards the life of our planet, and to the lives of those we share it with. As our connection with a Higher Consciousness becomes stronger once more - as it was with our forefathers - the momentum required to turn the ship is slowly building. And that can only be a good thing. </p><p>With love. X</p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-85031780594609713412023-06-04T11:02:00.004+01:002023-09-28T18:58:31.899+01:00New Blog Post about My Spiritual Journey <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu2dR23pniwqTTvMI0S5vStfKsNYoLA7WGf9a_cjUeRaMC99XrYI_v2muvmljSx5eOlG-GJq6kqExoGscRYuN_ZRUHkrbM0z3J-4KwpLw3k8zYargXfHZT43GmnTNE7_tNV2-2TsmTxWcsAdqDw_dv4nou_jYWBlqkBePpdhRpGpcrj78EJpHsd71v0g/s4032/IMG_9257.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu2dR23pniwqTTvMI0S5vStfKsNYoLA7WGf9a_cjUeRaMC99XrYI_v2muvmljSx5eOlG-GJq6kqExoGscRYuN_ZRUHkrbM0z3J-4KwpLw3k8zYargXfHZT43GmnTNE7_tNV2-2TsmTxWcsAdqDw_dv4nou_jYWBlqkBePpdhRpGpcrj78EJpHsd71v0g/w640-h480/IMG_9257.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Good morning all! I just wanted to let you know that I have recently published a new post about my ongoing spiritual journey on my <a href="https://thehealinghabit.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank">The Healing Habit</a> blog. You can read the post <a href="https://thehealinghabit.blogspot.com/2023/05/my-spiritual-journey-part-1.html?m=1" target="_blank">here</a>. <p></p><p>It is something I have been slow to write about as it’s a very personal thing - but I’m hoping there may be some of you out there who have been on, or are currently on, a similar journey - and if so we can swap notes! - or you may simply be curious about an aspect of life and existence which you haven’t yet stopped to consider. Maybe now’s the moment…! </p><p>One of my aims is to help people understand that you don’t have to be (or become) a ‘weirdo’ to embrace a spiritual element in your life; also that we are all different and travel along life’s journey at our own pace. Even if it’s not for you for now, it may be later. Or it may simply create a spark of interest which may or may not ignite in the future. </p><p>We are living in challenging times, for sure. On the radio this morning were deep discussions about the impact of AI (Artificial Intelligence) on our lives going forward and all the aspects of bias and ethical considerations which potentially come with it. As technology progresses, so the availability of knowledge increases - but there will be many potholes that humanity falls into along the road of progress towards a truly integrated, global, peaceful, civilised society. And one of the biggest ones, in my opinion, is ignoring the importance of the soul. </p><p>I asked questions from an early age. I continue to do so. My spiritual journey is part of my own quest for knowledge: knowledge of the universe and how it might work and trying to understand our place in it. Modern science has answered some of our questions, but oh so many others remain elusive. </p><p>But where science still cannot provide answers and certainty, a spiritual understanding of life can fill the gaps. It is my greatest comfort blanket when life becomes challenging: an understanding that this is why we are here - to learn from our experiences and to learn how to give and receive love, fully and unconditionally. </p><p>Have a happy, light-filled Sunday. </p><p>With love ❤️ </p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-64538070787305889932023-05-05T21:38:00.002+01:002023-05-05T21:38:30.413+01:00Travels in Italy - Part 7 - From Mountains to Plains: Padua<h1 style="text-align: left;">There are moments in life which are life-changing - but of course you rarely know this at the time. Only longevity and the wisdom of hindsight allow their significance to reveal itself. Isn’t that an exciting thought?</h1><h2 style="text-align: left;">So when I reflect on that decision to accompany my boyfriend (not yet husband) to Italy for six months, I know how different my life would be if I hadn’t embraced that opportunity…</h2><div><br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">I was at a difficult time in my life when it came along. I had graduated in Modern Languages from St Anne’s College, Oxford, straight into a work culture and climate with which I could not identify. It was Thatcher’s England in the mid 80s and I ran away to do a ski season in the Alps before returning to dutifully take up a job in Travel PR. Two years later I left that job, realising it wasn’t for me. I wanted to be a writer, preferably in a magazine, with dreams of becoming a columnist. Despite trying hard at being a freelance writer, I wasn’t good at picking up a telephone and selling myself and my story to a stressed-out editor. My meagre income had therefore to be supplemented with temp agency jobs - and what a ghastly way to earn a wage that was: never knowing where you were going next, no-one bothering to get to know the ‘temp’, godforsaken mundane work involving typewriters, fax machines and photocopiers. It was utterly soul-destroying. </h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">No surprise, then, that when The Boyfriend got offered a job placement in Italy, I jumped at the chance to go with him. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain - lured in particular by a desire to get to know a new European country and to learn another language….</h3><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*******</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So here, at the end of our Italy Revisited trip, we come at last to where it all began: fair Padua. As the chief setting for Shakespeare’s <i>The Taming of the Shrew</i>, there are things about it which have not changed over the intervening centuries: it is indeed a wealthy provincial city, a cradle of arts and science, and undoubtedly one of the pearls in the necklace of delights which run west along the Po Valley from Venice. </div><p>To better explain, Padua (or Padova, in Italian), was where I came to live with N way back in 1990. We were in our late 20s and life stretched excitingly ahead of us - and this chapter of our lives was no exception. In fact it formed the foundations for a love of Italy and an understanding of its people and culture which has never left us. </p><p>We came for six months for a work placement and ended up staying for two years because we loved it so much. Yet before we arrived, I had no idea what I was going to: N had gone alone on his initial visit to discuss the job and when I asked questions I didn’t get much more than ‘yes, it’s nice’. So I went in blind, expecting little from the sprawling industrial outskirts of the city until suddenly we crossed a canal, passed under a stone archway and found ourselves in the middle of the most delightful medieval town I had ever seen: narrow cobbled streets with ancient arched walkways on either side all seemingly leading to the three beautiful piazzas forming the beating heart of the city. It was autumn, the air was suffused with the smokey aroma of roasting chestnuts, and the squares were packed with people out for their <i>passagiata</i> and <i>aperitivo</i>, all dressed beautifully in autumnal coats and colours and greeting each other warmly in a cacophony of lyrical Italian. I just stopped dead in my tracks and turned to N asking, incredulously, ‘why on Earth didn’t you tell me?!’ </p><p>And so that was beginning of the love affair with Italy and one of the most amazing and formative experiences of our lives. At the end of our time there, N proposed (after 10 years together!), and we returned home, ready to start married life together, our hearts and minds united in the shared experience of living and working in this extraordinary, mercurial, frustrating, beautiful country. </p><p>We have returned numerous times since but had not been back for a while until this visit, so it was lovely to reconnect. We met up with various old friends and strolled around those ancient streets reminiscing on all our yesterdays and feeling decidedly ancient ourselves! So much time has passed and much has changed since then - not least the fact that no-one dresses as smartly anymore, dressed instead in trainers and sportswear, and that there are far more chain stores creeping in where once there were simply individually owned shops. The cinema is no longer and many of the old restaurants have closed or passed to owners new. Such is the passage of time and sadly it doesn’t always seem like progress…but perhaps it’s just that I’m getting older while the world around me is getting younger…</p><p>I will leave you, and these tales of our ‘Italy Revisisted’ tour, with some of the things you shouldn’t miss in Padua which is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site-</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scrovegni_Chapel" target="_blank">Scrovegni Chapel</a> with its newly restored frescos by Giotto</li><li>The daily fruit and vegetable market in the Piazza Dei Frutti</li><li>The covered market underneath the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palazzo_della_Ragione,_Padua" target="_blank">Palazzo Della Ragione</a> (or ‘<i>Il Salone</i>’) which is thought to be the largest medieval market hall still in existence and separates Piazza dei Frutti from Piazza delle Erbe. The Salone also houses a giant wooden horse built in 1466 which is modelled on Donatello’s Equestrian Statue of Gattamelata (which in turn is sited in the piazza in front of the famous Basilica di Sant’Antonio) and a modern day Foucault Pendulum.</li><li>The famous 19th century <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pedrocchi_Café" target="_blank">Pedrocchi Caffe </a></li><li>La Specola, once an astronomical observatory and now housing an astronomical museum</li><li>The world’s oldest <a href="https://www.unipd.it/en/palazzo-bo-and-anatomical-theatre" target="_blank">Anatomical Theatre</a> in the Palazzo Bo where Galileo taught from 1592 to 1610</li><li>The pilgrimage church, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basilica_of_Saint_Anthony_of_Padua" target="_blank">Basilica di Sant’Antonio</a>, (or ‘<i>Il Santo</i>’ as it is known locally).With its extraordinary domes, cloisters and relics of Sant’Antonio it is something not to be missed, even if you are not religiously inclined!</li><li>The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orto_botanico_di_Padova" target="_blank">Orto Botanico</a> or Botanical Gardens which have been recently renovated and extended </li><li>The huge open space with its circular canal, statues and bridges which is <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prato_della_Valle" target="_blank">Prato Della Valle</a>, (or ‘<i>Il Prato</i>’) the largest ‘piazza’ in Italy</li></ul><div>The best way to get around Padua is on foot or by bike as the historical centre is not very big and all the sights are within easy walking distance of each other. There is also a good bus and tram service. </div><div><br /></div><div>There are many hotels to choose from in all price ranges but the <a href="https://www.toscanelli.com/en/" target="_blank">Majestic Toscanelli</a> is lovely for being right in the historic centre and a stone’s throw from the Piazza dei Frutti.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Frutti.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjG_Heg7WJiy1uZ4JbTv-gb-152aMPjigsknTo0N0w2AtNWi0v20elNEogYRCx8d2QSUKIbbWBfADZ6ltdh0FRgUb_GdGasYX5gPvC19mvzr9itgWZboihz2VqKvYj_yT2WUaOI-kHH3nJ5i6wf2ZT6d75Irmaln7-qMtgC61ILV645HTrxODO0W8Wjw/s4032/2BE90631-D2B2-4A56-B98F-7292F5BAB900.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjG_Heg7WJiy1uZ4JbTv-gb-152aMPjigsknTo0N0w2AtNWi0v20elNEogYRCx8d2QSUKIbbWBfADZ6ltdh0FRgUb_GdGasYX5gPvC19mvzr9itgWZboihz2VqKvYj_yT2WUaOI-kHH3nJ5i6wf2ZT6d75Irmaln7-qMtgC61ILV645HTrxODO0W8Wjw/w480-h640/2BE90631-D2B2-4A56-B98F-7292F5BAB900.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Porticos of Padua</td></tr></tbody></table><br style="text-align: left;" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLmmuVbtTOL7WfZObLyCQUWTcFoCInZAH-5s8MEI5d1wly8haOBF0t4kN7sTSJbG3ojcQBzOIDJbH7Tt6deSffWtrtaC1qmEa9Oyah3s6vyNMUcup4xP1QvOgO48VlEKVzFDgLNbmrPIhPMyy0ccW6bt4PN0m_NmCpFudNab7JD92DUXD7yrkwoqhqFA/s4032/2EFEDA51-7FF2-41E8-9664-EBBE6019A60D.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLmmuVbtTOL7WfZObLyCQUWTcFoCInZAH-5s8MEI5d1wly8haOBF0t4kN7sTSJbG3ojcQBzOIDJbH7Tt6deSffWtrtaC1qmEa9Oyah3s6vyNMUcup4xP1QvOgO48VlEKVzFDgLNbmrPIhPMyy0ccW6bt4PN0m_NmCpFudNab7JD92DUXD7yrkwoqhqFA/w480-h640/2EFEDA51-7FF2-41E8-9664-EBBE6019A60D.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>Canals<br style="text-align: left;" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNN0R4Wv-w4Ythe8XLTlt3Yy7tX_sTF6VbVQbTxGa_W7_jSA97ftM8HpURlc4mov8TerfjmlCf2u1s4JyZWlnqjy-ODz_GngBdDPFNtpTpR0C9uaMwdYHsYoNsEaddxaGqYR84u8OzUuTiUIJ1qxvnEPHcBvYfnndpzZ0BWh1fXif8u_Kv_gkoupZWw/s4032/3C128014-A573-41E6-A535-B222B60CDE23.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNN0R4Wv-w4Ythe8XLTlt3Yy7tX_sTF6VbVQbTxGa_W7_jSA97ftM8HpURlc4mov8TerfjmlCf2u1s4JyZWlnqjy-ODz_GngBdDPFNtpTpR0C9uaMwdYHsYoNsEaddxaGqYR84u8OzUuTiUIJ1qxvnEPHcBvYfnndpzZ0BWh1fXif8u_Kv_gkoupZWw/w480-h640/3C128014-A573-41E6-A535-B222B60CDE23.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>Cheese stall in the covered market<br style="text-align: left;" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYpGxfRB26HkbL2l5iZGQXTyTAnbQ1rMeUs0ml7O07mx7NVHPj9ZJK9sfqZvZU5ql6-PuAO-0A6PrOHhuyMnWmwRC6MF6_aX_fSH6rNBrtr5DsBF7hsMYI11I9zX2IYuZ1c5-su7ATAa8Bd0eJ4SoVdTDYEvdP4mxu7d1-sdAOEDgSsKq60Qf8-s92A/s4032/22B4BED7-F63A-4F44-AE75-0B13D3FFDA07.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYpGxfRB26HkbL2l5iZGQXTyTAnbQ1rMeUs0ml7O07mx7NVHPj9ZJK9sfqZvZU5ql6-PuAO-0A6PrOHhuyMnWmwRC6MF6_aX_fSH6rNBrtr5DsBF7hsMYI11I9zX2IYuZ1c5-su7ATAa8Bd0eJ4SoVdTDYEvdP4mxu7d1-sdAOEDgSsKq60Qf8-s92A/w640-h480/22B4BED7-F63A-4F44-AE75-0B13D3FFDA07.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>Piazza Della Erbe<br style="text-align: left;" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxuyjRiYEd_qlvZxZFDbq4Z9yqtCq0HgnRtk3uF6hTXMyVRZ1I1Wk7pPKQ_gRTP68P-oCeS365maKphasLNwduevPcSiE4NIJZe4lfe6DVl1-28xvFIGfL_xuUhjdBaX619HCRBaSozSc9-QcHb9qt4HIXaCuRflqkVOiokgg82GhSuvcJhgMDgMJYA/s4032/818C0A29-5494-430C-8A44-62DEBF25A0A5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxuyjRiYEd_qlvZxZFDbq4Z9yqtCq0HgnRtk3uF6hTXMyVRZ1I1Wk7pPKQ_gRTP68P-oCeS365maKphasLNwduevPcSiE4NIJZe4lfe6DVl1-28xvFIGfL_xuUhjdBaX619HCRBaSozSc9-QcHb9qt4HIXaCuRflqkVOiokgg82GhSuvcJhgMDgMJYA/w480-h640/818C0A29-5494-430C-8A44-62DEBF25A0A5.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>Street scene<br style="text-align: left;" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Og8MMKvaezLE-yDes6dkCquyL_0F0W1NUKv7_cjPuQTlm3RZ10zSZ0qy2atgtE5-tTkMl65Yr4wFRfyI92ZcA_20xNNFqyN7Sb2oQpz7amPYwqE3GctNsSeZZrtPuGrz_fYXRAt3Op_dF3J8-4o6olWE5vs_14dA3a-rmdFffv3XL-0Y2iIJQWdNRA/s4032/9213EFD2-BB21-42B9-B94B-27E133D24920.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Og8MMKvaezLE-yDes6dkCquyL_0F0W1NUKv7_cjPuQTlm3RZ10zSZ0qy2atgtE5-tTkMl65Yr4wFRfyI92ZcA_20xNNFqyN7Sb2oQpz7amPYwqE3GctNsSeZZrtPuGrz_fYXRAt3Op_dF3J8-4o6olWE5vs_14dA3a-rmdFffv3XL-0Y2iIJQWdNRA/w480-h640/9213EFD2-BB21-42B9-B94B-27E133D24920.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>Fresh fruit and veg in the Piazza dei Frutti<br style="text-align: left;" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmkHAhWJSdlYZ1zUMEPILrlqU7sVgsZwuz2cUDu003LTn8wUvYkjZXUITPQu_2LycYu9TwMMwOuLdfr7pD30LIdMuA5dY0SpR8hfToaHcG1wiAocd0FTnFoIAucj00-57vpW3uSPguNAgAEdE3H68uzDTmQ5dbMTkAsFevrSO7j77CbgS_sH0sBbwvA/s4032/77298FCB-BDD3-4E67-A4FD-516B88720561.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmkHAhWJSdlYZ1zUMEPILrlqU7sVgsZwuz2cUDu003LTn8wUvYkjZXUITPQu_2LycYu9TwMMwOuLdfr7pD30LIdMuA5dY0SpR8hfToaHcG1wiAocd0FTnFoIAucj00-57vpW3uSPguNAgAEdE3H68uzDTmQ5dbMTkAsFevrSO7j77CbgS_sH0sBbwvA/w640-h480/77298FCB-BDD3-4E67-A4FD-516B88720561.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>Santa Giustina, Prato Della Valle<br style="text-align: left;" /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jJR5YFsEE3nYz8LqEuJmrwlJ8vxqRnQLW-trtES237e2EYK_-dZVCiV_LgkF3RVBvzRx-INY8YHC7bJMTHUbBRwgjjw4hGSIUASVHFQVOmpwT_WJ-9ICQF9QsQUZnPn5tWW-GnVdMJ3bZO5tA1Fbx_EDWCOmUGdJg2Eokk4MN5QjfkG_QAbZ1J5EbQ/s4032/3589632A-796C-442A-95F9-64FD21C47107.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jJR5YFsEE3nYz8LqEuJmrwlJ8vxqRnQLW-trtES237e2EYK_-dZVCiV_LgkF3RVBvzRx-INY8YHC7bJMTHUbBRwgjjw4hGSIUASVHFQVOmpwT_WJ-9ICQF9QsQUZnPn5tWW-GnVdMJ3bZO5tA1Fbx_EDWCOmUGdJg2Eokk4MN5QjfkG_QAbZ1J5EbQ/w640-h480/3589632A-796C-442A-95F9-64FD21C47107.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basilica di Sant’Antonio</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEj5izme5l9u_-Sb-LNWEFbc_XtgxwgI7lRgVrj0P_9MY4Sh7RPKs4aMV9AujgYmFxx_5DvoiYEqiQf-Y6_rtqgqZ_12utUYY8a7LdGuCvshHbI1f-75WiwKhqC0lHYZ9ia_c0ngb3YmJRytH6kz2wueUPFmSg7dzbg7mjGzl469kdGvM2FL0HkvRSuQ/s4032/AD340F95-859E-43E5-9CBC-BEC376D14F66.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEj5izme5l9u_-Sb-LNWEFbc_XtgxwgI7lRgVrj0P_9MY4Sh7RPKs4aMV9AujgYmFxx_5DvoiYEqiQf-Y6_rtqgqZ_12utUYY8a7LdGuCvshHbI1f-75WiwKhqC0lHYZ9ia_c0ngb3YmJRytH6kz2wueUPFmSg7dzbg7mjGzl469kdGvM2FL0HkvRSuQ/w480-h640/AD340F95-859E-43E5-9CBC-BEC376D14F66.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fruit stall, Piazza dei Frutti</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2bU3wlok6Lqy2Y7-J069-hS727gBCex8X5sWAR_uE4Q7DzPI7RI653Q1vtEiuWTtpN1Md1ORBft1PO2JmdiW5NzuM_-8gtu11YuCA0vD5VavM7dtK1eTsxiAL_a1yxQtk61WN9VMFRUBuFFmAM0rInGa_8cY4pfD4Aw7SnjLo9ZCH_6kR5oQV2T1mhw/s4032/B285ADFD-98FF-491F-B19E-2FDB66B43790.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2bU3wlok6Lqy2Y7-J069-hS727gBCex8X5sWAR_uE4Q7DzPI7RI653Q1vtEiuWTtpN1Md1ORBft1PO2JmdiW5NzuM_-8gtu11YuCA0vD5VavM7dtK1eTsxiAL_a1yxQtk61WN9VMFRUBuFFmAM0rInGa_8cY4pfD4Aw7SnjLo9ZCH_6kR5oQV2T1mhw/w640-h480/B285ADFD-98FF-491F-B19E-2FDB66B43790.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giotto frescos in the Scrovegni Chapel</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Tey_HFUt0bhJf-GfqS_96ZL0b3ZOs4mussoTYyfx6quyt7kLrPIu-JwshCEFMMOv4w5_cojOaom-kOSyg5vPhv41K8HddsxLYGMWRw6iMTiVndtdJdstJxFUssJWx0z8r3ZI9Pj0UlWI7vEecs4CrFsbFPu1_PRVA1h2L_j6RqnB6yJUpYOXcXTv_Q/s4032/D9AD1646-39FD-47C9-9677-D3E8D9FFED04.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Tey_HFUt0bhJf-GfqS_96ZL0b3ZOs4mussoTYyfx6quyt7kLrPIu-JwshCEFMMOv4w5_cojOaom-kOSyg5vPhv41K8HddsxLYGMWRw6iMTiVndtdJdstJxFUssJWx0z8r3ZI9Pj0UlWI7vEecs4CrFsbFPu1_PRVA1h2L_j6RqnB6yJUpYOXcXTv_Q/w640-h480/D9AD1646-39FD-47C9-9677-D3E8D9FFED04.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New glasshouses at the Orto Botanico</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLhxxYjxeL_I4dFGqQmeBxhensRcN161UAe4JnSQoiVFPZgszpQz-DImrxnYGkz7rAO6PJ8RACNVl2Y3iiUdojGy3FKo9lpGRiIZrtg_lhwKo_7rchDf-XT4IwuHbFvVSHyZY46-lKAkV4EicO69hVUM4Pacv9dPd8zzQEu1oilafdXsv1O6uCbppDLw/s4032/FEC5B833-1A30-40B2-BE15-3DE30F192DB5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLhxxYjxeL_I4dFGqQmeBxhensRcN161UAe4JnSQoiVFPZgszpQz-DImrxnYGkz7rAO6PJ8RACNVl2Y3iiUdojGy3FKo9lpGRiIZrtg_lhwKo_7rchDf-XT4IwuHbFvVSHyZY46-lKAkV4EicO69hVUM4Pacv9dPd8zzQEu1oilafdXsv1O6uCbppDLw/w480-h640/FEC5B833-1A30-40B2-BE15-3DE30F192DB5.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ancient waterways</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><p></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-16899330908284154702023-04-15T11:51:00.001+01:002023-04-15T11:51:41.974+01:00Travels in Italy - Part 6 - From Mountains to Plains: Venice <h1 style="text-align: left;">Who doesn’t love Venice? Even if you’ve never actually visited this unique island city, you will surely have dreamed of doing so…</h1><h2 style="text-align: left;">The gondolas, the canals, the bridges, the buildings, the churches, the art, the mosaics, the music, the food…it is the stuff of fairytale romance and hedonistic joys. And Venice is a rich diet indeed. </h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">When we lived in Padua (Padova) in the early 1990s, this most extraordinary of cities was right on our doorstep. I just had to hop on a train and in 20 minutes or so I was disembarking onto the Grand Canal. No other train station in the world has quite such an entrance. The first time you go, your jaw literally drops, but things are subtly changing and sometimes I fear for her future…</h3><div>I will never forget visiting a work colleague of my husband’s in Venice just a week or two after we arrived for our six month work placement in Padua. We were there to collect a television she was lending us for our little flat. I have this image in my mind’s eye of my (not yet) husband standing holding this television (the big square sort of old) at the end of a little passageway near the San Toma vaporetto, staring out across the Grand Canal, not quite able to believe what we saw, or that we were actually there. Holding a television! Because, yes, people actually lived here in those days. Real life went on. Shops and businesses thrived. This was home to so many proud Venetians. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sadly, over the intervening decades, much has changed. Cheap flights and mass tourism bring visitors to Venice in their hoards - so much so that the locals have slowly been moving back onto the mainland and with them the shops and business of old have started to close. The pandemic has been the final straw for many. I visited a few years before it, before the damage had taken its toll, and then again on this ‘Italy Revisited’ trip last year, 2022, when elements of the pandemic were still in place. What I noticed is that even more of the beautiful old traditional trattorias have closed down, replaced now by Irish pubs and fluorescently lit Asian and fast-food bars and eateries, together with an unfathomable proliferation of sweet shops where old oak barrels overflow with sugary nightmares in every colour of the rainbow. It is like turning this most venerable and elegant old lady into some sort of drag queen - dumbed down and hyped up for the masses, as every last scrap of dignity is washed away in the dirty canal water.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yet if you look hard enough you will still find pockets of pure Venice. Just wander, wander, wander…and get lost! This is the best way to feel the essence of the city, far from St Mark’s Square, the Rialto Bridge and all the other tourist hotspots. Get lost in a labyrinth of little alleyways until you stumble across a hidden gem - a canal side eatery, a tiny little dark bar, a magnificent church, a captivating courtyard, a stone well or a delightful garden. They are all there to be discovered, even today. All is not totally lost. Yet this is a city which needs to be nurtured and handled with care if it is to survive for future generations to enjoy in all its idiosyncratic and historic glory. </div><div><br /></div><div>I hope the following photos will give you a flavour of Venice, by day and by night, and inspire you to go exploring yourselves! For more Venice reels and pictures, do visit my instagram account <a href="https://www.instagram.com/in_spire_living/?next=%2F" target="_blank">@in_spire_living </a>where you will find them if you scroll down a bit or look at the reels tab. Below is a quick summary of how to get the best out of Venice:-</div><div><br /></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Travel by train if you can as parking can be difficult</li><li>If you arrive by plane, consider taking a water taxi or one of the Vaporetto boats from the airport as a magical way to approach the city</li><li>Carnival in February is a busy time to visit - but also a once in a lifetime experience</li><li>Try to visit out of peak holiday times. Late Autumn and early Spring are highly recommended, or even January when the streets are misty and quiet and highly atmospheric</li><li>You will be doing a lot of walking so wear comfortable shoes</li><li>Travel out to the islands by boat. <a href="https://www.isoladiburano.it/en/" target="_blank">Burano</a> is famous for its colourful houses, while <a href="https://www.isoladiburano.it/en/torcello.html" target="_blank">Torcello</a> is known for its lacemaking and <a href="https://www.isoladiburano.it/en/murano.html" target="_blank">Murano</a>, of course, for its glass.</li><li>Stop for a glass of local wine in a little backstreet bar or ‘campo’ and watch the world go by</li><li>Avoid the main tourist areas for eating and drinking to get a more ‘authentic’ experience</li><li>Do take time to pop your head inside some of the many other churches, not just St Marks</li><li>Consider taking time to visit some of Venice’s many hidden <a href="https://www.visitvenezia.eu/en/venetianity/discover-venice/10-secret-gardens-in-venice-" target="_blank">gardens</a></li><li>Hop over to the Giudecca and the Island of San Giorgio to get some fresh perspectives on the city</li><li>Most of all, just enjoy yourself and soak up the atmosphere of this unique destination</li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4LwR1ABRokeTYg9aL5n3nM0Umfqbx1lH5FBHNt16uzdZV2D573XPuthzB6klVoI2z3GX_DeSoetZevxQ4GfBw-fooEWLx63ejzIpLzyV8ElGjNZ-Baiemx-Bc38POip6sCoXW4C9AfdZ3LH2aRGskvC137JAMR4CG6Z8CRf3hMZy5lHwbksSUIzm-w/s4032/3A73DA07-2889-480F-94A1-3A507E09129E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4LwR1ABRokeTYg9aL5n3nM0Umfqbx1lH5FBHNt16uzdZV2D573XPuthzB6klVoI2z3GX_DeSoetZevxQ4GfBw-fooEWLx63ejzIpLzyV8ElGjNZ-Baiemx-Bc38POip6sCoXW4C9AfdZ3LH2aRGskvC137JAMR4CG6Z8CRf3hMZy5lHwbksSUIzm-w/w640-h480/3A73DA07-2889-480F-94A1-3A507E09129E.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Classic vista of the Grand Canal</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglaT6iHY1YzelZwCs2p3NjYx-WZnLDMmhAmSUUFUj-S2qKo1AdHIqKc8WN5R5q9dFXw_ZYNofCXj6mC2Vd-if0eWao1_T1BNGIUwHbp6RAmWQrGockSuAQJO3KNJBSYKu6Q9sFyEAsMeVkylz_o84kgO5oP0B4GKaZloJREKvBZ0j9IRThtszQVphbzA/s4032/6E99F23D-22C7-4435-98EB-7C41F9AAFCB5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglaT6iHY1YzelZwCs2p3NjYx-WZnLDMmhAmSUUFUj-S2qKo1AdHIqKc8WN5R5q9dFXw_ZYNofCXj6mC2Vd-if0eWao1_T1BNGIUwHbp6RAmWQrGockSuAQJO3KNJBSYKu6Q9sFyEAsMeVkylz_o84kgO5oP0B4GKaZloJREKvBZ0j9IRThtszQVphbzA/w640-h480/6E99F23D-22C7-4435-98EB-7C41F9AAFCB5.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gondola Boatyard</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhiZZBnq4KtyYO1nAeSuCdihTRp_YxpKFZ-Tpv1TIn_feGjx2wR7ROnsuHuHiq7zoO1HKKIa1_bbOoxsjT_DziohBINeKwgB2yGG7T-5tf5ewz3ZyOt3TtvuvJcHyIIN519UzN_mQNozUsG7Cu7WwEOsGD2Th1M5ilM3JwQjYDijQLu3NnMgrnD0lQ8Q/s4032/7D2CDA66-D01B-41F0-A043-607E53B6F688.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhiZZBnq4KtyYO1nAeSuCdihTRp_YxpKFZ-Tpv1TIn_feGjx2wR7ROnsuHuHiq7zoO1HKKIa1_bbOoxsjT_DziohBINeKwgB2yGG7T-5tf5ewz3ZyOt3TtvuvJcHyIIN519UzN_mQNozUsG7Cu7WwEOsGD2Th1M5ilM3JwQjYDijQLu3NnMgrnD0lQ8Q/w480-h640/7D2CDA66-D01B-41F0-A043-607E53B6F688.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No one does Carnival like Venice!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF08ggg3JX6wAk7sRC3hqjPdBPaLiyuWAhkCM0ilHIDlVJ9vzj4BLd-D3q4NabTPDBYBzDgoG0vJSp_K-h4pPiIpQPlz-Jc-_ZNKBVJKgoEQlmsOef4z21nJT76n_PdH1AK6D1thcgXIK3Bqdx3SbugCAY4l3a-vCc7XWw75-0OvKA6oQDS9KXH2W4BQ/s4032/29E35F65-4A72-4354-B389-98256C8463C0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF08ggg3JX6wAk7sRC3hqjPdBPaLiyuWAhkCM0ilHIDlVJ9vzj4BLd-D3q4NabTPDBYBzDgoG0vJSp_K-h4pPiIpQPlz-Jc-_ZNKBVJKgoEQlmsOef4z21nJT76n_PdH1AK6D1thcgXIK3Bqdx3SbugCAY4l3a-vCc7XWw75-0OvKA6oQDS9KXH2W4BQ/w480-h640/29E35F65-4A72-4354-B389-98256C8463C0.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_KiBsogKr4J2MwC8V3aRgiE_BgYhf1B4VMzw74Dkvl8nID1kerkxTrAfQcByUjVHpYgiG5cui0m97Tts-BdwdBcpCUKldyjc1AOVONpYr3Ljm9hrVpvTVGMw-8mzug_UB-4FMqh5ON9UY31SN2S1UPMCztm4KXy2WLTDpSTPTqbCUAeRQ0_JMReShxQ/s4032/50A88A1F-1947-49EC-BB97-6B880F678FA2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_KiBsogKr4J2MwC8V3aRgiE_BgYhf1B4VMzw74Dkvl8nID1kerkxTrAfQcByUjVHpYgiG5cui0m97Tts-BdwdBcpCUKldyjc1AOVONpYr3Ljm9hrVpvTVGMw-8mzug_UB-4FMqh5ON9UY31SN2S1UPMCztm4KXy2WLTDpSTPTqbCUAeRQ0_JMReShxQ/w480-h640/50A88A1F-1947-49EC-BB97-6B880F678FA2.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Masks, maps and madness in a Venetian shopfront</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDRg9VsDR4aEdMJgH4Weg92TS7ThCycobVfCUZhhlwxPU4fG9H1zh5tyqk7EdOu9gqyIgED_cBKPqiDLi2SjXM18F2CBAMHLfvsL6uxRIzUigjcRkCYneTnhLXB7hh1yBq-6AQJ-eTS4VK4FTpSJkpr-RoyDnC7MPr_sY6JrAbz2P14DGutkINgskpw/s4032/62C345C1-C4D1-4FC3-A90D-3A31444388C9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDRg9VsDR4aEdMJgH4Weg92TS7ThCycobVfCUZhhlwxPU4fG9H1zh5tyqk7EdOu9gqyIgED_cBKPqiDLi2SjXM18F2CBAMHLfvsL6uxRIzUigjcRkCYneTnhLXB7hh1yBq-6AQJ-eTS4VK4FTpSJkpr-RoyDnC7MPr_sY6JrAbz2P14DGutkINgskpw/w480-h640/62C345C1-C4D1-4FC3-A90D-3A31444388C9.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCSVNQDU8mH8Hadca2vlZoJHh08KjRL1FJRTYr1tgQzBLsagd7cIgjtnOQO6W1FBMusEJJ-oU1qMM6h0Psb12AoKQl2fqGCVEKqnQeFNdO-qfXNZiw6_BD65aVpCpbH7vAy74RMdfRuwq9dndXl3MnfNJGQyPQnkKTfCc0aoVCaN39SOth8lnXDFxKYA/s4032/98A8CB31-F43B-4D8A-9ABE-BFBA595EC947.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCSVNQDU8mH8Hadca2vlZoJHh08KjRL1FJRTYr1tgQzBLsagd7cIgjtnOQO6W1FBMusEJJ-oU1qMM6h0Psb12AoKQl2fqGCVEKqnQeFNdO-qfXNZiw6_BD65aVpCpbH7vAy74RMdfRuwq9dndXl3MnfNJGQyPQnkKTfCc0aoVCaN39SOth8lnXDFxKYA/w480-h640/98A8CB31-F43B-4D8A-9ABE-BFBA595EC947.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bridge of Sighs, Rio del Palazzo</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPnqQ7gQmFZfiTVHgVNPdxQxsIQLGxCRD-KSn35k0lSWByW9oqQTjV2OC4n1dWT1edM7fLKG4mJFqpM1eoFQ0oaHIn8eI0lZ2jY-AmkOozyERCBwLWMmwg4NrCw0G_if3sj7OBSHWpGZKFgYtn_iSNTELkfPCGaMvRklhnLq2p3UskVkkFM92rAjhgw/s4032/304CA44A-1BAA-4F73-8CE1-43650EB09024.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPnqQ7gQmFZfiTVHgVNPdxQxsIQLGxCRD-KSn35k0lSWByW9oqQTjV2OC4n1dWT1edM7fLKG4mJFqpM1eoFQ0oaHIn8eI0lZ2jY-AmkOozyERCBwLWMmwg4NrCw0G_if3sj7OBSHWpGZKFgYtn_iSNTELkfPCGaMvRklhnLq2p3UskVkkFM92rAjhgw/w480-h640/304CA44A-1BAA-4F73-8CE1-43650EB09024.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The narrowest of streets!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgukbACeL7zZJYIhdhdzjlk_1rfgjDsIQ6ho98K3MNsy4s6AH8DCZuV3MWfnokezTpifdDxEjLU2Gl9InUrEDY5X_yHQkEDGTLDFRLLqHT5thf3I9K9-4E08XrtJ5Z3-XsT-maIRz1i2DU2m6V8Xz2bsxhgeXBKlOSLkJyjyuzs4yYZA7YXZ8FhX1XFRA/s4032/443E6F40-7908-42B0-8E21-EB056D349AC0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgukbACeL7zZJYIhdhdzjlk_1rfgjDsIQ6ho98K3MNsy4s6AH8DCZuV3MWfnokezTpifdDxEjLU2Gl9InUrEDY5X_yHQkEDGTLDFRLLqHT5thf3I9K9-4E08XrtJ5Z3-XsT-maIRz1i2DU2m6V8Xz2bsxhgeXBKlOSLkJyjyuzs4yYZA7YXZ8FhX1XFRA/w480-h640/443E6F40-7908-42B0-8E21-EB056D349AC0.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrDfSLQpi_8Fnrmr6q0udyedChY0lruFt_UIpjYeylctvNvv-AMaD-JtYNT_0h3jg3iLo5FXrRleLOyDOqyUJKttAjeUkdc8kbOA9Fk0tITe2cbkHwjstsw4f_2h2JZay05ZW0JeQUX7XqMi-UuRHk45SIuLFYOSIj4Z2rfYe5NwFVjnrWi1g2m7iqA/s4032/501CE337-90C2-489E-AE7A-9939A93D3D64.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrDfSLQpi_8Fnrmr6q0udyedChY0lruFt_UIpjYeylctvNvv-AMaD-JtYNT_0h3jg3iLo5FXrRleLOyDOqyUJKttAjeUkdc8kbOA9Fk0tITe2cbkHwjstsw4f_2h2JZay05ZW0JeQUX7XqMi-UuRHk45SIuLFYOSIj4Z2rfYe5NwFVjnrWi1g2m7iqA/w640-h480/501CE337-90C2-489E-AE7A-9939A93D3D64.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Byzantine Brilliance of Basilica San Marco shines out even on a grey day</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEgkWQ9oGnhlGJqSyA7lI6UVtDR0bUatz1LfD-qao7DPv15SIVrBBx3lysDxRs4nOcbc_6rb7fT_o8yT1tRHTlLHvd0M7ApCHg96hIn3it_3s2Yn17pggbMJ1gRWTcC9KvB5S1mku_5ROm_BFPg4NIWGnkVrU5hJr4xz7qKG5DMLP_70E4rPuEf4Xtw/s4032/666EFCB2-2FAF-47A3-B186-0992415C56AB.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCEgkWQ9oGnhlGJqSyA7lI6UVtDR0bUatz1LfD-qao7DPv15SIVrBBx3lysDxRs4nOcbc_6rb7fT_o8yT1tRHTlLHvd0M7ApCHg96hIn3it_3s2Yn17pggbMJ1gRWTcC9KvB5S1mku_5ROm_BFPg4NIWGnkVrU5hJr4xz7qKG5DMLP_70E4rPuEf4Xtw/w480-h640/666EFCB2-2FAF-47A3-B186-0992415C56AB.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzgC2_c5i34j4wwNd_khCGlYq4BdvpMXBs1tYYfAve7ZjR5zMZ8LPaHm6mfUaakwevSvbHHwD5oGhbeGYvZDe_VUYbrKi3YtKTIvst5wiIOsJgG8XkBdpk1OKLl21fdRCph6sUEg8pKg7m6EhZnSZ07vnWd9NWZ5no99m8XOqoahRZxak1na0tTJpIxA/s4032/25326EBA-3B0C-4C86-9027-46DCA17E0F4A.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzgC2_c5i34j4wwNd_khCGlYq4BdvpMXBs1tYYfAve7ZjR5zMZ8LPaHm6mfUaakwevSvbHHwD5oGhbeGYvZDe_VUYbrKi3YtKTIvst5wiIOsJgG8XkBdpk1OKLl21fdRCph6sUEg8pKg7m6EhZnSZ07vnWd9NWZ5no99m8XOqoahRZxak1na0tTJpIxA/w640-h480/25326EBA-3B0C-4C86-9027-46DCA17E0F4A.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Station Approach</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6mq7x1FAo6Xy_kUQCmoZdB_Ara-P6rD96y5pvTT_9ViYSfJdAEnZbW4b2ky11gDPO5p7Lwfz0Wo4NhT_cyKGzPLLCHoYUB8lbgTu-UbyHczF0V8BrtJcZm29cE39mQ5HjkpzXUn26mDm99JiQ3Dfq-i1sgK33WGcBc_akPq5I8t-nZN1rE1FbyWrZg/s4032/40257690-6FC6-454C-97E5-3F3C735D3696.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6mq7x1FAo6Xy_kUQCmoZdB_Ara-P6rD96y5pvTT_9ViYSfJdAEnZbW4b2ky11gDPO5p7Lwfz0Wo4NhT_cyKGzPLLCHoYUB8lbgTu-UbyHczF0V8BrtJcZm29cE39mQ5HjkpzXUn26mDm99JiQ3Dfq-i1sgK33WGcBc_akPq5I8t-nZN1rE1FbyWrZg/w480-h640/40257690-6FC6-454C-97E5-3F3C735D3696.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3E-SqbXULHAwPL7JPbN6QpAtgX6VC2205_b-1703D3CudT9tgu-pjfa4AS3uMhkt5Tao0KlShqbZ63VD1jOLUF1_KIxAfwUa5AzppLwZSwzehhmP21jGhRklZx4lOx7Y7_pXr0tk5SQU4Ec9RSJWXEgTWHk1XmKkY-TW5snz-b622ix_sPVv1RTl4Yg/s4032/B05DF088-ACE3-4267-B425-1849867F67D2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3E-SqbXULHAwPL7JPbN6QpAtgX6VC2205_b-1703D3CudT9tgu-pjfa4AS3uMhkt5Tao0KlShqbZ63VD1jOLUF1_KIxAfwUa5AzppLwZSwzehhmP21jGhRklZx4lOx7Y7_pXr0tk5SQU4Ec9RSJWXEgTWHk1XmKkY-TW5snz-b622ix_sPVv1RTl4Yg/w480-h640/B05DF088-ACE3-4267-B425-1849867F67D2.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stone wells and Staircases</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_4FiIiNqWKCNbcZ2A-g19E8Prr3TOJmTFVGxy_OmQ8Dl_OPN_LLWENWo2LMmlIA3Q37jAqd1ZJw7H5Cq7gKND3MihqBIBfNcUrnRO20JbAbsM5lWCs47Ni1oaBbnSEuzf6UAYf2evbrtmJSlnWMwVifVG4uzw4lCpz3qVkHjIPJTty8j9C4hknVDtg/s4032/E21B1A77-8361-49B3-97A6-47202E43159E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_4FiIiNqWKCNbcZ2A-g19E8Prr3TOJmTFVGxy_OmQ8Dl_OPN_LLWENWo2LMmlIA3Q37jAqd1ZJw7H5Cq7gKND3MihqBIBfNcUrnRO20JbAbsM5lWCs47Ni1oaBbnSEuzf6UAYf2evbrtmJSlnWMwVifVG4uzw4lCpz3qVkHjIPJTty8j9C4hknVDtg/w480-h640/E21B1A77-8361-49B3-97A6-47202E43159E.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Il Redentore viewed from St Mark’s Square</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM-Jo6NGUu4mlhGJ5BMwNezR75cfq6kv2WqzVHkEh15pEhftDVndi_x1VYcqAYoD43UxGMafj-JI-S9ixilbnTmOhSKEVjciN00EifrfdeDNFCAYoP-BjSGYRNnkK_Mrd1diu-T-Q2TmM9Znd7bIKbDA5W5E-xRoWF3xOWNbYIW-yLL1roev15ULHjmQ/s4032/E8862AFB-CF65-46AF-A8EA-C9FE3A71FE6B.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM-Jo6NGUu4mlhGJ5BMwNezR75cfq6kv2WqzVHkEh15pEhftDVndi_x1VYcqAYoD43UxGMafj-JI-S9ixilbnTmOhSKEVjciN00EifrfdeDNFCAYoP-BjSGYRNnkK_Mrd1diu-T-Q2TmM9Znd7bIKbDA5W5E-xRoWF3xOWNbYIW-yLL1roev15ULHjmQ/w480-h640/E8862AFB-CF65-46AF-A8EA-C9FE3A71FE6B.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgupyLJqoIPZXU1b3Ljf3Vf1ppq3-oK0_EOgPm0z_VtERpKS9dlLJtwtZ5zPzZUGl767E5fIAROPdR1T-IHfCzzV0ny0jNLyqGHsi7-nXKSPNX1YQXD4cQtwWp1WopwqeqTDNKhj51Nk08qMc0oCObXaEXzMKjxSL4lXioljWS2rFekOCbHm7il41ikyA/s4032/EBF45FCE-E5C9-4739-89A7-0B729BFF57B4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgupyLJqoIPZXU1b3Ljf3Vf1ppq3-oK0_EOgPm0z_VtERpKS9dlLJtwtZ5zPzZUGl767E5fIAROPdR1T-IHfCzzV0ny0jNLyqGHsi7-nXKSPNX1YQXD4cQtwWp1WopwqeqTDNKhj51Nk08qMc0oCObXaEXzMKjxSL4lXioljWS2rFekOCbHm7il41ikyA/w480-h640/EBF45FCE-E5C9-4739-89A7-0B729BFF57B4.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glimpsing the Grand Canal</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXxg6wskTLWmjQBVVJcLHuJ5bGqPOkg3U9MamL_R30jQB4hihAGqX9-tDQV_kUKte0emQeg-k5PgwZHet0MbNrmAnEdBeD1iOsqZSfh1YtMikLsBaGsws-h1jUBRREhW3qsTV5E8qaCGM7IIIY_8VCopZrDYXjBSz7MWcr4ZCe6E0SMqo6Oa_cf3qamA/s4032/F3D74F0F-A42E-4A0A-90CA-5B2AE1EC1D8A.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXxg6wskTLWmjQBVVJcLHuJ5bGqPOkg3U9MamL_R30jQB4hihAGqX9-tDQV_kUKte0emQeg-k5PgwZHet0MbNrmAnEdBeD1iOsqZSfh1YtMikLsBaGsws-h1jUBRREhW3qsTV5E8qaCGM7IIIY_8VCopZrDYXjBSz7MWcr4ZCe6E0SMqo6Oa_cf3qamA/w480-h640/F3D74F0F-A42E-4A0A-90CA-5B2AE1EC1D8A.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Murano Glass Display</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yQbhUiEDOaSJW6B6le3qN5xpLfdqeqT9otxJeGHN_n7M7e-lRjR3F6aeWqOiOVfQRV2H33Oo49_2RQAZoyX5Wh4Un4a6Td-68u-20iaFnrbcdPMWR6y8jYDEs4MDL9T4zLXWPt6IaMU__EQSIm3SPMoz13Ke0AAX5-4XmKIgJ0PAR9nsrnY6sSS-WQ/s4032/F090575D-A9AA-4971-9EE2-2DB62E29C52A.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2yQbhUiEDOaSJW6B6le3qN5xpLfdqeqT9otxJeGHN_n7M7e-lRjR3F6aeWqOiOVfQRV2H33Oo49_2RQAZoyX5Wh4Un4a6Td-68u-20iaFnrbcdPMWR6y8jYDEs4MDL9T4zLXWPt6IaMU__EQSIm3SPMoz13Ke0AAX5-4XmKIgJ0PAR9nsrnY6sSS-WQ/w480-h640/F090575D-A9AA-4971-9EE2-2DB62E29C52A.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Street life</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKtHnHG3KWXG14cejZRJQkM7-Sm5AjYuCyQvSt8_Hk6JfwxA0Oqnj1UswIV9IewrW375LA_h6C6Ly0CTU5R4X8FlCGRrKn_mJZUVrCjhDj-SpUPXdqgthjxfZaC2d8Q-Sgd9ENP6nnGcHuYs3Vxrb5nJdKdum_b5S241IBl8M3-bYQy2fGYQ3WEWxSzg/s4032/FF2F7E39-D091-45D9-8E04-30CEEE1DA125.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKtHnHG3KWXG14cejZRJQkM7-Sm5AjYuCyQvSt8_Hk6JfwxA0Oqnj1UswIV9IewrW375LA_h6C6Ly0CTU5R4X8FlCGRrKn_mJZUVrCjhDj-SpUPXdqgthjxfZaC2d8Q-Sgd9ENP6nnGcHuYs3Vxrb5nJdKdum_b5S241IBl8M3-bYQy2fGYQ3WEWxSzg/w480-h640/FF2F7E39-D091-45D9-8E04-30CEEE1DA125.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-6930932472475696872023-03-29T19:54:00.005+01:002023-04-15T11:53:00.463+01:00Travels in Italy - Part 5 - Skiing in the Italian Alps and Dolomites <h2 style="text-align: left;">Skiing in Italy has to be one of life’s great pleasures. It is relatively easy of access with flights to Milan, Turin, Verona, Venice, Bergamo or Treviso - or you can fly to Innsbruck and travel south over the Brenner Pass from Austria. The slopes are immaculately kept, especially in the northern region of <a href="https://www.expedia.co.uk/Trentino-Alto-Adige.dx6048732" target="_blank">Alto Adige</a> where the infrastructure is also excellent - and, it almost goes without saying, the food is fabulous!</h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">On top of all that, you can combine skiing with stunning lakes or sublime cities - and, for me, the <a href="https://www.britannica.com/place/Dolomites" target="_blank">Dolomites</a> have to be amongst the most beautiful mountains in the world.</h3><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUP0AsHXT1QL-4lqMO13SQg50qAypBS3ZafGn3t4Cswrq_8o28Zhsb7rsZly6MgkxB2iGC6vUiXsuLZj8WMKXkmyDeiW9D3ORMq4iThPM22NGIP1bMVNajGRseJwEMsHRJf-ghp7DBRWZg1tnKy_7e2K06qosdsyfk8d0kfOZrEq8HAzCkCBm2GUaXQ/s4032/865839FD-9AB5-4D0B-A265-DB8269DCDBFC.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUP0AsHXT1QL-4lqMO13SQg50qAypBS3ZafGn3t4Cswrq_8o28Zhsb7rsZly6MgkxB2iGC6vUiXsuLZj8WMKXkmyDeiW9D3ORMq4iThPM22NGIP1bMVNajGRseJwEMsHRJf-ghp7DBRWZg1tnKy_7e2K06qosdsyfk8d0kfOZrEq8HAzCkCBm2GUaXQ/w640-h480/865839FD-9AB5-4D0B-A265-DB8269DCDBFC.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>The geological origin of the Dolomites is fossilised coral reefs which were formed during the Triassic Period (around 250 million years ago) by organisms and sedimentary matter at the bottom of the ancient tropical Tethys Ocean. Their eruption occurred when the African and European tectonic plates collided and the famous pink hue of the Dolomites at sunrise and sunset is due to the abnormally high levels of minerals that they contain. They are, quite simply, breathtaking. </div><div><br /></div><div>In summer the smooth green meadows contrast perfectly with the jagged outcrops of Dolomitic limestone, while in winter these same meadows form the perfect base for ski runs, without so much of the jagged shale of the Alps which can cause havoc with your skis if snow is a little thin on the ground. </div><div><br /></div><div>We first started skiing in the Dolomites back when we lived in Padova (Padua) in the early 1990s. It was so easy to drive up for a day or weekend’s skiing throughout the winter with our Italian friends - such a tonic after a hard-working week in the city - and we had organised to reconnect with those skiing mates, some 30 years down the line, to re-live all our yesterdays. </div><div><br /></div><div>And so we found ourselves in <a href="https://www.trentino.com/en/trentino/val-di-fiemme/cavalese/" target="_blank">Cavalese</a> as this was where two of our friends - brothers - had a family-owned apartment. We had skied there before but so many moons ago it was hard to recollect. After a day by ourselves, familiarising ourselves with the slopes, we had a rendez-vous the following day to meet the brothers and some other of our old friends at the top of the slopes. How extraordinary to see each other again after all these years! Had we changed? We liked to think not - but of course we had. Older, greyer, more wrinkled - but the twinkle in the eyes, the love of skiing, the personalities and the friendship were all still there in abundance. And what a joy it was to reconnect over that first beer and coffee around a wood-burning fire on a terrace at the top of a mountain with blue skies, sunshine and magnificent snowy vistas all around us. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuzUXsVtBylRDmQqu9goZlo66Hm0GQMD_Td6RFclZzOnTPjcX_4gS8kHvEGtupCD_jwqaMDekDHKrMW6zYFTqWb70vAJaG9IHypfvsd9KaLGLe3isVaaYQfIuYEocG7h5RYgyBR8G5YlAxD39Nj05Wx9AxEKLWv3WLtIvrnGPp_64dbcR3Rbt1JmYag/s4032/B1B49296-1887-489E-975A-76E3BF7168D4.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRuzUXsVtBylRDmQqu9goZlo66Hm0GQMD_Td6RFclZzOnTPjcX_4gS8kHvEGtupCD_jwqaMDekDHKrMW6zYFTqWb70vAJaG9IHypfvsd9KaLGLe3isVaaYQfIuYEocG7h5RYgyBR8G5YlAxD39Nj05Wx9AxEKLWv3WLtIvrnGPp_64dbcR3Rbt1JmYag/w400-h300/B1B49296-1887-489E-975A-76E3BF7168D4.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY5afJ_DTQGSjs-h2nbBws4GyySz50SJ1KHie9J8Mt1fqwKhPWjRLdb6yOx86qH8MA-6WywTrs4x1ULQrjae_wIIzfFWYoCT_NKmqsewoxjpkqYiVPWUC8Hfb5_N45rNWWPXdtiEoXzcwu0gWWBSU-KbLqnk3VmHOazhfUN6TP5LR5criV9EJwQRaQdg/w300-h400/EA884B31-0C8E-4491-BCF7-3D79AFFC44B8.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsiYa5sJqTN95q_t9ZzioYyFG6dZqKPbIj1-z45f826S4WnF80UwPxtmL0LwKduYjhuTW88BYal09YrxR-u0UZBQFLpx1mjiPS0UNUT2me-eoIb5CIpd72LCPHafyqzSxcycAfKXdh3fC8EEsxDott2kuI28VED-4AXjoHX3cvfRfraaiTeGQKR-j2eA/s4032/7A423DD1-B778-4280-A33B-8EF71DBDBA9E.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsiYa5sJqTN95q_t9ZzioYyFG6dZqKPbIj1-z45f826S4WnF80UwPxtmL0LwKduYjhuTW88BYal09YrxR-u0UZBQFLpx1mjiPS0UNUT2me-eoIb5CIpd72LCPHafyqzSxcycAfKXdh3fC8EEsxDott2kuI28VED-4AXjoHX3cvfRfraaiTeGQKR-j2eA/w300-h400/7A423DD1-B778-4280-A33B-8EF71DBDBA9E.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">The next few days were filled with great conversation, delicious meals and many miles of pistes bashed at high speed (the Italians don’t do anything slowly!) from Cavalese to </span><a href="https://www.dolomiti.org/en/cortina/" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">Cortina d’Ampezzo</a><span style="text-align: left;"> (the jewel in the Dolomites’ crown and host to next year’s Winter Olympics), and back again. We even squeezed in a trip up to the top of the Marmolada, an impressive glacier with spectacular views. The journey up by cable car is not for the faint-hearted - but oh my word is it worth it. We were blessed with more glorious sunshine and it was a true highlight of the trip to stand at the top and just drink in the panorama of snow-capped peaks as far as the eye could see (see Reels on my Instagram account </span><a href="https://www.instagram.com/in_spire_living/" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">@in_spire_living</a><span style="text-align: left;">)</span></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">After these special few days based in Cavalese, we moved on to </span><a href="https://www.altabadia.org/en/" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">Alta Badia</a><span style="text-align: left;"> and the ski resort of Corvara in the heart of the Dolomites and part of the famous </span><a href="https://www.val-gardena.com/en/winter/sella-ronda/" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">Sella Ronda</a><span style="text-align: left;"> ski safari. This is one of our favourite places to ski, mainly due to the breathtaking scenery and the fabulous food - and you can even have tastings of local wines in participating ski huts! This is not somewhere for mad nightlife, but if nature is your thing, then this is the perfect place in which to immerse yourself in it. Buy a </span><a href="https://www.dolomitisuperski.com/en/home" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">Superdolomiti ski pass</a><span style="text-align: left;"> and you can pop over to Selva in Val Gardena, Arabba or Kronplatz to name just a few other ski areas. </span></div></div><div><br /></div><div>I will leave you with a few images of these beautiful mountains to inspire you and leave you in awe of this beautiful planet we are so lucky to inhabit.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzWkLj_gUrj7iHWVbBBwwa0EN9Q-p17a4VS4IaeztfC5jLZjgrhKW61soKWA_sAYSDx4td5ZKj-n5cyTUeKVzUW9O1oXLDnb9HRB3zO6iejXxiQ8dVMHRV7ksyKlCnOmfRCtw2uce8i7eBmp_Zlkun9fotiTTVDV-OzxAxeB8mi1T41fCN9T3xSyTeNA/s4032/3A98FFF9-D26C-43BE-99E0-B70055A43B73.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzWkLj_gUrj7iHWVbBBwwa0EN9Q-p17a4VS4IaeztfC5jLZjgrhKW61soKWA_sAYSDx4td5ZKj-n5cyTUeKVzUW9O1oXLDnb9HRB3zO6iejXxiQ8dVMHRV7ksyKlCnOmfRCtw2uce8i7eBmp_Zlkun9fotiTTVDV-OzxAxeB8mi1T41fCN9T3xSyTeNA/w480-h640/3A98FFF9-D26C-43BE-99E0-B70055A43B73.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br style="text-align: left;" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj21nqaMPL7LuFHdIezJZLqjfCIEtVY0RM99NxqfoGb_4L-AAIoK3RiQWjsYAnYH1U4oupctnFk0MOXofsc-64gjOYOsv9ljp07M8k6gZD30Ky4C7Ie3eqyFbn9QPQRZIdf-BKy93jG6wPOb1eGV8zwjp15nqBZuYqfYk-up_R1nt9BGQbu-ulQpy_Pow/s4032/8D0921CE-722C-40DC-9014-98022CE20E8A.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-25999843378587093282023-01-20T12:47:00.003+00:002023-01-20T12:52:29.417+00:00Travels in Italy - Part 4 - From Lake to Mountains<h1 style="text-align: left;"><i><b><u>3rd March, 2022</u></b></i></h1><h1 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Opening our green shutters that morning was a joy: the sun streamed from a blue sky, illuminating a cobbled courtyard surrounded on three sides by tall, colourful buildings, with a glimpse of the lake and tall, narrow Cyprus trees over the terracotta tiled rooves. How quintessentially Italian is all that?</span></h1><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincU0-Tuby5iSquLAg1Sjmr_4Bds7q6DYW7TGu3jHIcU0GNn7jBEcZnLO79vKNaBacgPmyguYFOb_v1wBUxGjOcOr6QKJSEHiaR5HyKX89w1-KJcO-ZUB5u5PI2AV_LcyGIAndm8E_Krq5SWuK7F3cDtCALukBOwDJ1FyCgYIeFyOcIZL19nHOP7QAbA/s4032/0BABC5E0-CAF1-4580-9DE4-D679BE35A3E9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincU0-Tuby5iSquLAg1Sjmr_4Bds7q6DYW7TGu3jHIcU0GNn7jBEcZnLO79vKNaBacgPmyguYFOb_v1wBUxGjOcOr6QKJSEHiaR5HyKX89w1-KJcO-ZUB5u5PI2AV_LcyGIAndm8E_Krq5SWuK7F3cDtCALukBOwDJ1FyCgYIeFyOcIZL19nHOP7QAbA/w480-h640/0BABC5E0-CAF1-4580-9DE4-D679BE35A3E9.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRckAFRxR4_fX5zFav1frza0qsBe6TnVTyI4-9T9yaxX5MnC5e_nMzvf6-d79dQrROSPVxaBGl35HioWBfLa2Sek5xBrQt0DLX0Fnz_8JoHM9HHTLcxTpXqBdKDsRJV5izEv0JwH9FRNI9bQYxFg4Ous70a8F_hpgbv5jXevgMqATRklX0zmPJsUI5MQ/s4032/0822769B-DB8A-443F-BDE3-67756D601A8C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRckAFRxR4_fX5zFav1frza0qsBe6TnVTyI4-9T9yaxX5MnC5e_nMzvf6-d79dQrROSPVxaBGl35HioWBfLa2Sek5xBrQt0DLX0Fnz_8JoHM9HHTLcxTpXqBdKDsRJV5izEv0JwH9FRNI9bQYxFg4Ous70a8F_hpgbv5jXevgMqATRklX0zmPJsUI5MQ/w480-h640/0822769B-DB8A-443F-BDE3-67756D601A8C.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBjGevzzW1DCbqzNoQP6zbfhVePOqwAjc4DKlrpApwGnYBoWEZn7wcLK_pZjfEz06wdPjDBgjqJK8wgWSpssyyGsmC65J4mbpQFnTSaOH5B-0k2sHSWR0grUVyXBzrT6-MjDgbE4sJVN5NfiMIDc05CdKln_kyi74-vlMqQy9EzNL9yTUbegVtI_X0Q/s4032/E8981F1F-2518-4316-936F-8E5324306408.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBjGevzzW1DCbqzNoQP6zbfhVePOqwAjc4DKlrpApwGnYBoWEZn7wcLK_pZjfEz06wdPjDBgjqJK8wgWSpssyyGsmC65J4mbpQFnTSaOH5B-0k2sHSWR0grUVyXBzrT6-MjDgbE4sJVN5NfiMIDc05CdKln_kyi74-vlMqQy9EzNL9yTUbegVtI_X0Q/w640-h480/E8981F1F-2518-4316-936F-8E5324306408.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p>After a quick breakfast and a chat with the owner of the hotel who had taken it over a few years back from an elderly couple and modernised it, we couldn’t wait to get outside and have a wander around the still quiet streets and along the lakeshore. The vistas that met us were magical as the water stretched hazily before us, narrowing towards the northern tip of Lake Garda.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjButGTwAjvsnGTnSRtBHJywF_OTLpdhqweYhaSyRKAx6_mDoRV3TouzxhaljvhpdShyudPiVl8bYS2OFbM43IG2Vmuq5nkYJVuIC9CYuxECoaOS025WfpZ0FAJVw7QRxlGBCTWP91fWxX8BuixRVbPilhQ17HvGWuPAE1-nSuLFxDprzUL7Y6LL9QOEA/s4032/6B7D709B-1FAD-4DBC-8DA9-E35BF3D0DC3F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjButGTwAjvsnGTnSRtBHJywF_OTLpdhqweYhaSyRKAx6_mDoRV3TouzxhaljvhpdShyudPiVl8bYS2OFbM43IG2Vmuq5nkYJVuIC9CYuxECoaOS025WfpZ0FAJVw7QRxlGBCTWP91fWxX8BuixRVbPilhQ17HvGWuPAE1-nSuLFxDprzUL7Y6LL9QOEA/w480-h640/6B7D709B-1FAD-4DBC-8DA9-E35BF3D0DC3F.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2YSUEuOI7m1WYahs90XbzUhvIqaYGGWANHW59fhv28oHRDin6BSiXmNojsy6KfLKrg9DbB2rEbFg65KCnLxpT7h0IabqNZN-nQBviWiBFUz7SkC5EF500fZIJkrizAjqIErGhLIytLCs87gfsvD3A7ms8AREsgZXHhpxTsZhwcpa-x_dtoL-F9GlDxw/s4032/84C29D8E-F98E-4B03-90C7-444372221CDC.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2YSUEuOI7m1WYahs90XbzUhvIqaYGGWANHW59fhv28oHRDin6BSiXmNojsy6KfLKrg9DbB2rEbFg65KCnLxpT7h0IabqNZN-nQBviWiBFUz7SkC5EF500fZIJkrizAjqIErGhLIytLCs87gfsvD3A7ms8AREsgZXHhpxTsZhwcpa-x_dtoL-F9GlDxw/w480-h640/84C29D8E-F98E-4B03-90C7-444372221CDC.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdswRimEWWN8ELFInKXNX4jO7yzJc6hg3ABHyVlG38uJ7eETK-v5uTLfVObikI_KudVEzFw-VGn3UehSNHquRj4TEz8g3zOWxl_Awlitib8IjT7UzkTF5F4CrVKsbkTQpuB6JlLFdoZs9ZJC6n9SC2RrEmgBUdUdYk6ZV4DG2xffD7B16ZSBleLqOOJw/s4032/6329D6D7-1C17-4DF3-9610-6C34ED7E1E87.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdswRimEWWN8ELFInKXNX4jO7yzJc6hg3ABHyVlG38uJ7eETK-v5uTLfVObikI_KudVEzFw-VGn3UehSNHquRj4TEz8g3zOWxl_Awlitib8IjT7UzkTF5F4CrVKsbkTQpuB6JlLFdoZs9ZJC6n9SC2RrEmgBUdUdYk6ZV4DG2xffD7B16ZSBleLqOOJw/w480-h640/6329D6D7-1C17-4DF3-9610-6C34ED7E1E87.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjmfqt_G7DXusGprXIRjujMO5affHkbPzbs98Y-os31R4WIRLyzJayY99TgWOayHfB8szm5dc4Yp8j6Aq47iTMSD5KdGljFl4Tkt2T2f7X_gI3Xpj5ROvI1a-OKGHG8jlqjhl-wHpk8ZNWO6vHLMXlKXs2YTHBMCiQGGYE1dZ-JJofSGiYVCqesxg0BQ/s4032/9789DCD4-1B22-4DC6-89CE-08F1D6C176C5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjmfqt_G7DXusGprXIRjujMO5affHkbPzbs98Y-os31R4WIRLyzJayY99TgWOayHfB8szm5dc4Yp8j6Aq47iTMSD5KdGljFl4Tkt2T2f7X_gI3Xpj5ROvI1a-OKGHG8jlqjhl-wHpk8ZNWO6vHLMXlKXs2YTHBMCiQGGYE1dZ-JJofSGiYVCqesxg0BQ/w480-h640/9789DCD4-1B22-4DC6-89CE-08F1D6C176C5.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><p>After a delightful stroll by the clear, aquamarine water, lapping gently at the rocks and little rough sand beaches, with just ourselves and the ducks for company, we headed back towards the crenallated castle and into the narrow, cobbled streets of the old town. Most things were shut and we had the place to ourselves - not what most tourists want, but just perfect for us. It is in solitude that you can truly notice the details and absorb the atmosphere of these ‘lost in time’ Italian villages. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimmcaml4lDCsJ2twVT4ndJuLqLUnuiuwuCy4MlaN3CXjpxaHFa07wpeprXYX9IXv9yDnKhEo34WmrrOy2kZawPtasDqW3wmC3KuPUlVzrCcSqdZZbVusU0zbdFCfhla3xYSNjP1-yUxvFJu104iaONw3V6Wqe1L708zrbXWR9biAs5_Epfs4uIIqZlDw/s2730/2CF74BA0-43E6-4D9A-A0EE-FF5920F1A71D.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2730" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimmcaml4lDCsJ2twVT4ndJuLqLUnuiuwuCy4MlaN3CXjpxaHFa07wpeprXYX9IXv9yDnKhEo34WmrrOy2kZawPtasDqW3wmC3KuPUlVzrCcSqdZZbVusU0zbdFCfhla3xYSNjP1-yUxvFJu104iaONw3V6Wqe1L708zrbXWR9biAs5_Epfs4uIIqZlDw/w480-h640/2CF74BA0-43E6-4D9A-A0EE-FF5920F1A71D.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKWISY_HMkyH5EZK5jjCj0nlz2GngST0iWcuvYQXLyyfJYSEkOT2Hk5PLvuTVyugG6ryDRsVHaAT-qYOrkBJa4hYiACHGlyOGFHMzZ5amZeEQo1qNjUQiJdLXHNgDGtgpc2Ik9VnA3IEs1GbZzjQQkwYywQkyUQOUpKlA9hcL3P28mSmYqTQFAVER6g/w640-h480/D3226028-3273-4A24-980D-B923893F7E69.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LcHm8Xt-rpp-rX1DtUfsEJ_HqsHb-UVhq0HIWquew4YGKfAIKPsy62B7IG9gYsb_hwr6R2eOAmUSbU-_m-NohQ4Fihb8mFDXNUoEjhPa0I0qalDi8WTCfEaBwAZcQSYAQ_yBGgMk2vDxNfFK35WaKcQuLKLYUgB2QD_XEwQOsJtQ6l3hnPzT8tspDg/s4032/DE60CB71-A9BD-44DB-8E5F-F0B263092F81.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LcHm8Xt-rpp-rX1DtUfsEJ_HqsHb-UVhq0HIWquew4YGKfAIKPsy62B7IG9gYsb_hwr6R2eOAmUSbU-_m-NohQ4Fihb8mFDXNUoEjhPa0I0qalDi8WTCfEaBwAZcQSYAQ_yBGgMk2vDxNfFK35WaKcQuLKLYUgB2QD_XEwQOsJtQ6l3hnPzT8tspDg/w480-h640/DE60CB71-A9BD-44DB-8E5F-F0B263092F81.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjplql_zMbam252Qgep91LhR1RlDs4hmXzjaajjecAyGsYrjEZRSKL6avFz7blRNhxED3ht_TRRNMyntVW9cbuHPm57c6-SnY_S7r7fydrxrQX_9CCOx0kmAGmKxXOeakcF3ofQ6Ai-WZjsMSJ0qpwjy0jvOFpgIpsn6WTCAdV6c2M_8g1WFD1BPtWCKQ/s4032/F6A90BE1-D4B1-4451-A992-C6B6FB37C80F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjplql_zMbam252Qgep91LhR1RlDs4hmXzjaajjecAyGsYrjEZRSKL6avFz7blRNhxED3ht_TRRNMyntVW9cbuHPm57c6-SnY_S7r7fydrxrQX_9CCOx0kmAGmKxXOeakcF3ofQ6Ai-WZjsMSJ0qpwjy0jvOFpgIpsn6WTCAdV6c2M_8g1WFD1BPtWCKQ/w480-h640/F6A90BE1-D4B1-4451-A992-C6B6FB37C80F.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p>When we reached the top of the old town, life resumed with open shops, bars and the chatter of the locals. Inevitably we were drawn back to the bar by our hotel which we had enjoyed the night before and treated ourselves to a coffee and an aperitivo in the bright spring sunshine. Many of the same people were back there again, a ritual of sharing drink, food and conversation with friends. The essence of Italian life. </p><p>From here we wandered back down to the little harbour, to the restaurant which we had spotted last night by the waters’s edge. It was bursting with life but we spied a little table for two by the edge of the harbour which had our name on it. My aim had been to eat spaghetti alle vongole (spaghetti with clams) by the water, as we had done so many times before when we lived in Italy, and my wish was delightfully granted as we ate our delicious platefuls and sipped local wine to the lilting sound of lapping water and tolling church bells. A classic vista stretched before us of boats and colourful harbour side buildings set to a backdrop of stern mountains beyond, softened by the watery haze arising from this magnificent lake warmed by the early March sunshine.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS-PuNAVpmJ7jiVEBO2vOzk7NXfRi5nUi-IzhvYDzOOQ10BNEQ3MyO-mPa7tcT0kSBZEtyhcr-YTIvBjx4f7nqaHtV8yuVA-NuHfqdMZ0s2CeQbFS0D_8NTN0MOxRleCHWb7MFn4DZX13bSpjCGxyFMlDh36XtaDoz34J_Gn93tCS_N8uwyXJSqOvrYA/s4032/2D13C25D-E6E3-4E78-BCB5-70B98C05D6BE.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS-PuNAVpmJ7jiVEBO2vOzk7NXfRi5nUi-IzhvYDzOOQ10BNEQ3MyO-mPa7tcT0kSBZEtyhcr-YTIvBjx4f7nqaHtV8yuVA-NuHfqdMZ0s2CeQbFS0D_8NTN0MOxRleCHWb7MFn4DZX13bSpjCGxyFMlDh36XtaDoz34J_Gn93tCS_N8uwyXJSqOvrYA/w640-h480/2D13C25D-E6E3-4E78-BCB5-70B98C05D6BE.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOBM5iyjrA9JNGiCpkrQTVBX8JtvJ4d0jSEsJEtSwnxe5oraReUBvUbWicIHg8M3tBIzk1TJdGeJKAQlUsZGX2EB8onvPqQK5ehiGwMVMKzxJgBF92LrTsYkBTI1_MhmjhIUv9InUukXyB7qQVDc_sRuGGrsYtDGQSHtXy3EOeQ96-1eNuGwUQ7mkCg/s4032/359EC2FE-43B7-4499-AFD3-4BBB5F9720C4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOBM5iyjrA9JNGiCpkrQTVBX8JtvJ4d0jSEsJEtSwnxe5oraReUBvUbWicIHg8M3tBIzk1TJdGeJKAQlUsZGX2EB8onvPqQK5ehiGwMVMKzxJgBF92LrTsYkBTI1_MhmjhIUv9InUukXyB7qQVDc_sRuGGrsYtDGQSHtXy3EOeQ96-1eNuGwUQ7mkCg/w640-h480/359EC2FE-43B7-4499-AFD3-4BBB5F9720C4.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji3s1quRetgD6_RWNoM8s5yhHs0rbC8AKoc9S-oG3bE6_3DqSsdfBvR4o8ioizZH8L3x-_CO93pk3K3HzN-Z3Mi3fCTUZi0xVN8KqQbrE6Pkn6gpKNwzu3I4S83encGuYcXxi8Awchzu1grJI2AY1bfZMAiot8y8Pkz4miKBrZilaNCcP8k1_k-_v0vQ/s4032/3242119F-5EFB-4A16-83CB-5D123E81DCBE.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji3s1quRetgD6_RWNoM8s5yhHs0rbC8AKoc9S-oG3bE6_3DqSsdfBvR4o8ioizZH8L3x-_CO93pk3K3HzN-Z3Mi3fCTUZi0xVN8KqQbrE6Pkn6gpKNwzu3I4S83encGuYcXxi8Awchzu1grJI2AY1bfZMAiot8y8Pkz4miKBrZilaNCcP8k1_k-_v0vQ/w480-h640/3242119F-5EFB-4A16-83CB-5D123E81DCBE.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFu_mziIS2L8eTNIF4wuX2l7eGdIECbohQCtsygi6n6lQZfhyYetuoHTu_ssNFSwXQpO0pQH7a6q6cqGd8DARRkw_UlItwih_We7uRd53axJBjSq9Jvq9sj9Hl223bxX1HHuYXpsD6T71U8gW0ArqClqp0ut6A_rADo_CgkqO7aRCwWmu5Y1k4xWeuyQ/s4032/D5EFA8E5-D62E-4BF2-A781-900C29AC4A05.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFu_mziIS2L8eTNIF4wuX2l7eGdIECbohQCtsygi6n6lQZfhyYetuoHTu_ssNFSwXQpO0pQH7a6q6cqGd8DARRkw_UlItwih_We7uRd53axJBjSq9Jvq9sj9Hl223bxX1HHuYXpsD6T71U8gW0ArqClqp0ut6A_rADo_CgkqO7aRCwWmu5Y1k4xWeuyQ/w480-h640/D5EFA8E5-D62E-4BF2-A781-900C29AC4A05.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><p>Replete, in so many ways, we reluctantly returned to our hotel to collect our luggage and loaded it into the car to head towards the hills. Just an hour and a half, and a beautiful drive later, we arrived in the town of <a href="https://www.trentino.com/en/trentino/val-di-fiemme/cavalese/" target="_blank">Cavalese</a> in the midst of the southern Italian Alps. After checking into the historic <a href="https://www.historichotellastua.it/en/hotel-cavalese" target="_blank">Hotel La Stua</a>, we explored the streets and bought our ski pass ready for the next day before returning to the hotel to shower, change and enjoy another glorious Italian meal in their ancient, wood-pannelled dining room. An early night beckoned, with a full day of skiing to look forward to in the morning…</p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com037018 Malcesine, VR, Italy45.7642335 10.810092817.453999663821158 -24.3461572 74.074467336178856 45.9663428tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-41908157126463864202023-01-11T16:13:00.011+00:002023-01-20T12:55:00.685+00:00Travels in Italy - Part 3 - Lake Garda<h2 style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Note to readers:</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> it is now January 2023 so first of all I must wish you a Happy New Year! Secondly I must apologise for having left you in suspense for many months as to the follow on from my last blog post about my travels in Italy last March! Somehow life just got in the way…</span><br /></i></h2><h2><i><span style="font-size: medium;">2022 was a busy year, full of turbulence and unexpected happenings. But isn’t that the way of things? It has been frustrating not finding the time or headspace to write, but my intention is always there, and I will always return to it when the moment is right. Given that I am currently recuperating after an operation earlier this week, I felt now might be that time to return to the land of La Dolce Vita - and there is nowhere sweeter than the silent shores of Lake Garda in late winter. </span></i></h2><h1 style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>****************</i></div></span></i></h1><h2 style="text-align: left;"><i><u><b>First days of March, 2023</b></u></i></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">Leaving behind Verona, the city of love, we found our way from the autostrada to the delightful road which clings to the eastern shores of <a href="https://www.gardaitaly.com/" target="_blank">Lake Garda</a>, one of Italy’s most famous northern lakes. </h3><h4 style="text-align: left;">While its more westerly cousins, Iseo, Como, Lugano and Maggiore are long and thin, Garda has more of a tadpole shape, the bulbous head being at its southern end, the thin tail stretching up to the north as the wide Venetian plain becomes increasingly constrained by the looming grey crags of the southern limestone Alps. </h4><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi346t4FjSHEESelijCFIDPWMIN9L43SDxTAi9x6X4wx98LlIosEMxF3Wj3AIN9GkzSdXt25k62Tl_avHnDZX9_pdjLCvGUqnLb2Aq4lLPi1YN5V8KFQYmFhX7ubepunT6UWcf92ZF6e9cIAqVK57ausDcVTuUEfWPqJ3YyXIdCmZTMN4ULZpCzNwKS1A/s4032/401750CF-BBC9-4F18-9479-1B65276FA0A8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi346t4FjSHEESelijCFIDPWMIN9L43SDxTAi9x6X4wx98LlIosEMxF3Wj3AIN9GkzSdXt25k62Tl_avHnDZX9_pdjLCvGUqnLb2Aq4lLPi1YN5V8KFQYmFhX7ubepunT6UWcf92ZF6e9cIAqVK57ausDcVTuUEfWPqJ3YyXIdCmZTMN4ULZpCzNwKS1A/w640-h480/401750CF-BBC9-4F18-9479-1B65276FA0A8.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha44U2sIPzguWrnWmOFDWYSBBXE3hxUosjx9KlEz6GZG6To_a_Pat6YADb8A7TBvugybyKiWL6a0EK54tTJyz_c7ITYILWmtyG5Pxti0quDjHwyaPcMPbwJDoHkkUAyNzFhgJLbMknLTkHSn5ZABHRbvUF-zb8QyeawWvSM6EmnZ4aynOh2_-Qe4_88A/s4032/5DFB9A21-316F-49F7-BDF9-DE13B9F8B83E.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha44U2sIPzguWrnWmOFDWYSBBXE3hxUosjx9KlEz6GZG6To_a_Pat6YADb8A7TBvugybyKiWL6a0EK54tTJyz_c7ITYILWmtyG5Pxti0quDjHwyaPcMPbwJDoHkkUAyNzFhgJLbMknLTkHSn5ZABHRbvUF-zb8QyeawWvSM6EmnZ4aynOh2_-Qe4_88A/w640-h480/5DFB9A21-316F-49F7-BDF9-DE13B9F8B83E.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhylXiTjuz_7yo3J8-G4S2kPRqxmhEiSK9x7h-W9yvanA7KFQ6le5fUf85IMKj7NEzOb8c4T2RtEtKxCB92jriVwnfns6ySqkvnbd4klUbSjj6TnchGaBpPN5S3M8BjLdHtTglc8aYclmbsAAxCNm6s0q1HVpN0TG5uYxMA3yk0IViMEB3Cjdv1E5moXw/s4032/9F4AB21E-F719-42D3-9528-9043B5469572.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhylXiTjuz_7yo3J8-G4S2kPRqxmhEiSK9x7h-W9yvanA7KFQ6le5fUf85IMKj7NEzOb8c4T2RtEtKxCB92jriVwnfns6ySqkvnbd4klUbSjj6TnchGaBpPN5S3M8BjLdHtTglc8aYclmbsAAxCNm6s0q1HVpN0TG5uYxMA3yk0IViMEB3Cjdv1E5moXw/w480-h640/9F4AB21E-F719-42D3-9528-9043B5469572.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><p>The route hugs the twists and turns of the lake, passing through delightful little lakeside villages like Lazise, Bardolino (famous for its red wine of the same name) and Torri del Benaco, with its crenalated 14th century castle by the water’s edge. We stopped briefly to soak up the soft light of the misty winter sundown, and to listen to the sounds of lapping water and children playing. On this second day of March, a Tuesday in the low season, the tranquillity of the moment was tangible and one to be savoured. At which point we received a WhatsApp message from our oldest daughter travelling in South America informing us that she thought she’d just gone blind due to swimming open-eyed underwater in a pool which had just had a load of chlorine dumped in it! We gave advice and smoothed ruffled feathers and prayed the damage would not be long-term. Once a parent, always a parent!</p><p>As the weak winter light dwindled into darkness, we arrived at our destination, <a href="https://www.italyheaven.co.uk/veneto/malcesine.html" target="_blank">Malcesine</a>, just over an hour after we left the bright lights of Verona. Here all was quiet, save the bar by the central car park, adjacent to our hotel and the narrow cobbled streets of the old town. It was aperitivo time and the joint was jumping. Quickly checking in to our green shuttered hotel, we returned to the bar to soak up the scene and an Aperol Spritz before wandering down towards the lakeside to see if we could find some food. </p><p>Barely a soul was about and the silence was only interrupted by the chime of the church bell and the flutter of a bird’s wing and the soft slip-slap of the water against the quayside of the small harbour. Light fell across the cobbles from the threshold of the only bar that was open down here and we sat, contentedly, to savour another drink and asked for recommendations of where we might eat, given that so much was closed. We were told about a restaurant back on the main road which I’d noticed as we drove in - a classic pizzeria buzzing with life and the tempting smell of freshly cooked dough. It did not disappoint. A slice of true Italy. Amusingly, our waiter spoke good English and had spent a few years in Leeds, just up the road from us here in the High Peak. Why Leeds? It’s a far cry from Malcesine! I’m not sure I ever got a satisfactory answer, but he had enjoyed his time there very much, until the pull of Italian family called him home. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31XCUQJND6TYsfr2WcJd-25SXrqX8z6EBJhlhswkKxdk-MJ2fB3Fj08QmwG8sqnugEuXmVvzQ9sMSl-LI-WQ9w9vQKztbnFXjuGGuG2ZWqHRSxcmH1jW6vQiLxN58z3q1Fa7_eQBxJ2_WJeWLNpdC12qwkTnP_S-o91c2ePOS0gxJ2nxsCAbF2bFZdw/s4032/E6E7878F-168C-4868-8940-991C2CF5893B.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31XCUQJND6TYsfr2WcJd-25SXrqX8z6EBJhlhswkKxdk-MJ2fB3Fj08QmwG8sqnugEuXmVvzQ9sMSl-LI-WQ9w9vQKztbnFXjuGGuG2ZWqHRSxcmH1jW6vQiLxN58z3q1Fa7_eQBxJ2_WJeWLNpdC12qwkTnP_S-o91c2ePOS0gxJ2nxsCAbF2bFZdw/w640-h480/E6E7878F-168C-4868-8940-991C2CF5893B.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdD1nG3gxDYf06ey-kw4CVao8kOZq0ivb5CO-PM4ttibB19NPeOl_Z-SpBZd1fcigb4b5hXyAoqyfsE4yYXXZzFrjW1E05goGgBIeDvCptikGtHyF__7m7HAbYytCmRzygRzWBf_1jsC9PvP4hKEKZpb-70pHdKX_aVmR3Xz-lOTnYISdyojAJuYXFQ/w480-h640/9E2CF3D5-86F3-4F07-97B2-73F934BD6FA8.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi9UsWoI8sWkfCTCFvB4QnWibeWfGUefI9IqWGzjo0bvQXzM3g5zlrKKaX3X947NZoe6jJnNnEHjwmYAEr3NIBbkiTDhSBJkabeYq1BvTEhLXBN81hiQr8v9npfgFFxCj17iQbQYQoodyaz2e-6UseF4_aa3KddXTFsmr2HBABdmrvIRXPl58Vq0KiBg/s4032/12BAB64C-3AAF-4FEA-AAA7-DF5DB5632F40.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi9UsWoI8sWkfCTCFvB4QnWibeWfGUefI9IqWGzjo0bvQXzM3g5zlrKKaX3X947NZoe6jJnNnEHjwmYAEr3NIBbkiTDhSBJkabeYq1BvTEhLXBN81hiQr8v9npfgFFxCj17iQbQYQoodyaz2e-6UseF4_aa3KddXTFsmr2HBABdmrvIRXPl58Vq0KiBg/w480-h640/12BAB64C-3AAF-4FEA-AAA7-DF5DB5632F40.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And so, replete, we wandered back through the silent streets to our green-shuttered hotel, pleasantly simple and perfectly Italian, with only the bells and the occasional call of seagulls to lull us into peaceful sleep. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmiUTC-I6lyrNrssXuF9CsliBPS96HXQUb5BaaMGnu8iLEOPk5PzxbSVKN18Zn0iRdgVH4lDRoGjHYlYIFUUOVtacA5TtMRe1YHLudyr14ttfVuzOTzizWrOL5X9FtGxNbhX5JwZ-ScBlxmrkNMdSCH83PBRcLhJvq_27i-uMbRWBg-vNB-MO6oyPcQ/s4032/2E5AA34C-7936-40A4-859D-EABD4C6E1655.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmiUTC-I6lyrNrssXuF9CsliBPS96HXQUb5BaaMGnu8iLEOPk5PzxbSVKN18Zn0iRdgVH4lDRoGjHYlYIFUUOVtacA5TtMRe1YHLudyr14ttfVuzOTzizWrOL5X9FtGxNbhX5JwZ-ScBlxmrkNMdSCH83PBRcLhJvq_27i-uMbRWBg-vNB-MO6oyPcQ/w480-h640/2E5AA34C-7936-40A4-859D-EABD4C6E1655.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsEB3i7Kr9vwY4n50c4xH-LCVJ68jA8TMFXLhTiDslQ8IVaMqIod9QsSvNz-5UTdvmnPpa5Qtnl9uu60L5FwjEbUh5pyBrOvsio2_ESbvsarBzOQfELJAo6wyn3uTluD0AsVPUiA6niKcksK43OAjtN0l0SDXbrmdiWztB3VIwJPi2dAxV19ED6uAwVA/w640-h480/A586B26D-C840-4D9C-94D8-5A957CA7FF58.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWYgUHjg4PYo7Twk5xFgeGmQF8V4Wopl9XaC5nyLGFQpFHdi6YbhdbDYbRzHkHqFiJ1mPn1TwDOvwU7L--4VFDkDfyLS0eTmZH8SMxHpGWhEIAqEUckQ7tZ-0yNfv88PySbybIJV0f3Zb8oZ177WpU__W3t98QMcdMBWjl9Qm2iIqZ-BvltLn6B_U-A/s4032/C5144727-7C52-48CE-BAD8-BF0DD6853550.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWYgUHjg4PYo7Twk5xFgeGmQF8V4Wopl9XaC5nyLGFQpFHdi6YbhdbDYbRzHkHqFiJ1mPn1TwDOvwU7L--4VFDkDfyLS0eTmZH8SMxHpGWhEIAqEUckQ7tZ-0yNfv88PySbybIJV0f3Zb8oZ177WpU__W3t98QMcdMBWjl9Qm2iIqZ-BvltLn6B_U-A/w480-h640/C5144727-7C52-48CE-BAD8-BF0DD6853550.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br />Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com2Lake Garda, Italy45.6049385 10.635141417.294704663821157 -24.521108599999998 73.915172336178841 45.7913914tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-60892509725572729492022-09-18T01:24:00.007+01:002022-09-18T01:26:39.493+01:00New Blog Post at The Healing Habit<p><br /></p><p>I am pausing my traveller’s tales just to alert you to my latest <a href="https://thehealinghabit.blogspot.com/2022/06/the-true-meaning-of-reiki.html" target="_blank">post</a> on my <a href="https://thehealinghabit.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Healing Habit</a> blog which covers my professional interests and practice of Crystal Reiki Healing (humans and animals) and the energetic healing of homes and workplaces. </p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-79786814465017935962022-09-18T01:16:00.010+01:002022-10-02T11:31:25.246+01:00Travels in Italy - Part 2 - Verona<p><i>March, 2022</i></p><p>We woke to sunshine and a few domestic problems which had to be sorted back home, which was quickly enough done, and after a delightful breakfast served at our table (buffet breakfast browsing still not currently allowed in Italy), we hopped on the two hotel bikes - which luckily none of the other guests clearly felt like using - and set off to explore the beautiful city of Romeo and Juliet. </p><p>There is no better way to get around an historic Italian town that by bicycle. Most of the little old cobbled streets are largely traffic-free and, certainly for those situated like Verona in the Po Valley, they’re flat as a pancake. When we lived in both Padua and Milan,<i> le </i><i>bici</i> were our preferred form of transport. Easy to park, good exercise and so much faster than going on foot. I know that’s kind of stating the obvious, yet still it never ceases to amaze me how much ground you can cover in such a short space of time! Not only that, somehow you feel more part of the life of the city rather than tramping around like a tourist and ending up with blisters and sore feet. You blend in better - and I always like to blend when I’m abroad! </p><p>So first of all we whizzed around the enormous piazza in front of the magnificent Roman Arena where the locals were just living their daily lives, moving from A to B, having a <i>panino</i> (sandwich) on the park benches or a coffee in the numerous cafes which line the broad pavements with their large, polished <i>pavimenti </i>stones<i> </i>worn smooth and shiny by the passage of feet and time. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK-phMGHyJSle3OBlD8R8wV6I8H01khaSYTYjwrCjyBKSsYl6fSlkhogIxPu2TEIq4_8317o8We42_nmm6ap7VQIql_2UeaJpuBQhbXs8hVg4xE67tdL5VfM_zvYhrSn7hGYv1Xsl9vnY0IWficfkBYdeYs3oe13Dx2J675nRWBwm4h-sXvGNVHXrJOg/s4032/9FAA4BAD-C99B-461F-A050-2219D92DFEDC.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK-phMGHyJSle3OBlD8R8wV6I8H01khaSYTYjwrCjyBKSsYl6fSlkhogIxPu2TEIq4_8317o8We42_nmm6ap7VQIql_2UeaJpuBQhbXs8hVg4xE67tdL5VfM_zvYhrSn7hGYv1Xsl9vnY0IWficfkBYdeYs3oe13Dx2J675nRWBwm4h-sXvGNVHXrJOg/w640-h480/9FAA4BAD-C99B-461F-A050-2219D92DFEDC.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRFT74xzTH1EH6_CEvRJF2Y1hYye6net6Mp26H4VIgrLlJXJys-n1JOURXAo_e7ntZtjK0o2nOU878ZFGX9Ft3Pq1Ag1WRbXq_A4ne-cGsclzcQKKeby6K_mbm5KRDqacUUIfoZRexdjQjH5QdeUkXwleHeRMbDIFIsXaNXHwUI-m6mSM0fk_4OW46Qw/s4032/CEF7B412-137B-4C0F-BE39-4C19793A7100.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRFT74xzTH1EH6_CEvRJF2Y1hYye6net6Mp26H4VIgrLlJXJys-n1JOURXAo_e7ntZtjK0o2nOU878ZFGX9Ft3Pq1Ag1WRbXq_A4ne-cGsclzcQKKeby6K_mbm5KRDqacUUIfoZRexdjQjH5QdeUkXwleHeRMbDIFIsXaNXHwUI-m6mSM0fk_4OW46Qw/w480-h640/CEF7B412-137B-4C0F-BE39-4C19793A7100.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjleUTONHGRmt_Pb4gNB1I1ZS24OXuBh_QQyjO-_f8JN3ICZzxlih5_M8CUBmgUemFkvU9Z_FSmLuceQci6XSLf1JzEEn6EtaNIHMd0aqLXtvM3es8mOkNaeWzkcfgH2_nTtvPICCGmTVBdcDJETvWFjtsd1T806lmQo38nGS3g5qdkNkgaA_bxVOq7RQ/s4032/DB2A7BA1-CD8A-4B5B-BBD1-DCD6576FCE19.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjleUTONHGRmt_Pb4gNB1I1ZS24OXuBh_QQyjO-_f8JN3ICZzxlih5_M8CUBmgUemFkvU9Z_FSmLuceQci6XSLf1JzEEn6EtaNIHMd0aqLXtvM3es8mOkNaeWzkcfgH2_nTtvPICCGmTVBdcDJETvWFjtsd1T806lmQo38nGS3g5qdkNkgaA_bxVOq7RQ/w480-h640/DB2A7BA1-CD8A-4B5B-BBD1-DCD6576FCE19.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifbgjx4WxABGZ9qOA-s3oNnDZwo2wOZcH7VHYSrELQQjwwmHnjdvtsKyiymTB8I0Swj2yLQ5kKLcF2ICXXQVj9h6418bLPATNOViTCkALyFaHXA2uMZwdEmzMRZkr9ZeMSlOrJOsAcbrJsbj9SPiTZT_H9WymVpZ0sRoVeZbNw3lmKHsoFFvDxAa0DkA/s4032/F998C9D9-A826-4FFB-9F72-D1F1240ED981.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifbgjx4WxABGZ9qOA-s3oNnDZwo2wOZcH7VHYSrELQQjwwmHnjdvtsKyiymTB8I0Swj2yLQ5kKLcF2ICXXQVj9h6418bLPATNOViTCkALyFaHXA2uMZwdEmzMRZkr9ZeMSlOrJOsAcbrJsbj9SPiTZT_H9WymVpZ0sRoVeZbNw3lmKHsoFFvDxAa0DkA/w480-h640/F998C9D9-A826-4FFB-9F72-D1F1240ED981.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">From there, we headed into the Centro Storico and found our way to the tourist trap that is supposedly <a href="http://www.veronissima.com/sito_inglese/html/shakespeare-verona-juliet-house.html" target="_blank">Juliet’s house</a> with the famous balcony where Romeo wooed her. Which of course it isn’t, but it’s a great marketing ploy! The ‘security guards’ told us we couldn’t wheel our bikes in and a shopkeeper told us off for leaning our bikes against the wall next to her shop so, already irritated, we glanced in, saw all the people taking turns to stand on the balcony and have their photo taken, for an overpriced entrance fee, and decided to give it a swerve. We’d seen it before anyway. (But please don’t let me put you off!)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJRWibRZ1vrzxckkyImykLjCAuKdQyB31CiELbm8qNwE0InaGNYxUJfP6sJOL52_6uoslCmiSMoywGiUwwvKulmmt5_Rsb3kMr3UgcCF85V2pdjby0D5NTAmhhl_wiKqdDW93GkcTW3D95Eg5L1ct6_61INx3YAzzn1DEnD4p8CfnHbCUbzTroI7cbQg/s4032/D27ED027-D430-4E42-ACAF-2D63FF9E7243.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJRWibRZ1vrzxckkyImykLjCAuKdQyB31CiELbm8qNwE0InaGNYxUJfP6sJOL52_6uoslCmiSMoywGiUwwvKulmmt5_Rsb3kMr3UgcCF85V2pdjby0D5NTAmhhl_wiKqdDW93GkcTW3D95Eg5L1ct6_61INx3YAzzn1DEnD4p8CfnHbCUbzTroI7cbQg/w640-h480/D27ED027-D430-4E42-ACAF-2D63FF9E7243.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguE4vOKC0YZ5S4LuNgsAHNUgg3SS5m1sMQqn05hoqWiDEuyC67q_j8jZ5tGpFOQARRqOiSQutO4jQMsbtkWXlbVrm10Fg-PnhoK0_vgQBVuVVFflm83Izh2Byp2NNXinnpK7t10BdWhQKaX_i2eXKuYsexi5mc8W186zPtEbNAHaioyoloaDy6GSCOAQ/s4032/39BE9072-55E8-4252-AA25-8387449FCAA2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguE4vOKC0YZ5S4LuNgsAHNUgg3SS5m1sMQqn05hoqWiDEuyC67q_j8jZ5tGpFOQARRqOiSQutO4jQMsbtkWXlbVrm10Fg-PnhoK0_vgQBVuVVFflm83Izh2Byp2NNXinnpK7t10BdWhQKaX_i2eXKuYsexi5mc8W186zPtEbNAHaioyoloaDy6GSCOAQ/w480-h640/39BE9072-55E8-4252-AA25-8387449FCAA2.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So instead we headed off to quieter streets and soon found ourselves by the beautiful Adige River which flows through the city from its mountain source in Alto Adige near the Swiss/Austrian borders, to its exit into the Adriatic Ocean, 250miles (410km) later…</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixEDLpeJdJN8Z8CT7xyHKm_z3562iN90o4NWycaQvXkVa0k9KOCiinmbK77c5QSpi5yOXyfCichyBbY4TMOAVu-6S8zcgKclFAtzqM2U4-JAObuDpc5l3lC_AmkBdf9S9CUA7z0UjZzP_Ou2fT1p6pJ8Pzy2vCeRArT19uMtFgfMwtdWcEdMg6shMoJA/s4032/11CEAA7B-EF02-437E-BF66-D7C64C98BE8C.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixEDLpeJdJN8Z8CT7xyHKm_z3562iN90o4NWycaQvXkVa0k9KOCiinmbK77c5QSpi5yOXyfCichyBbY4TMOAVu-6S8zcgKclFAtzqM2U4-JAObuDpc5l3lC_AmkBdf9S9CUA7z0UjZzP_Ou2fT1p6pJ8Pzy2vCeRArT19uMtFgfMwtdWcEdMg6shMoJA/w480-h640/11CEAA7B-EF02-437E-BF66-D7C64C98BE8C.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi583-ryhmgpnSNntj4A-MAKd81VVeWGovzABsnlS5X8T8SBBe4QiAmpAIFVzCh6NCqoRfS00imWRBEcn5KdpiWayQA04owyPgIB-6ZZJWi8F0e0w_cl-C_b1iU6AWzjubXwonvYzl41NsWXuB8bf-X63GEIZV3JQWRoCcwn8ohUJEU3V-NuTfntiUERQ/s4032/B888E011-A2F6-4260-82EA-E2D0587DB6BE.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi583-ryhmgpnSNntj4A-MAKd81VVeWGovzABsnlS5X8T8SBBe4QiAmpAIFVzCh6NCqoRfS00imWRBEcn5KdpiWayQA04owyPgIB-6ZZJWi8F0e0w_cl-C_b1iU6AWzjubXwonvYzl41NsWXuB8bf-X63GEIZV3JQWRoCcwn8ohUJEU3V-NuTfntiUERQ/w480-h640/B888E011-A2F6-4260-82EA-E2D0587DB6BE.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0h-6WJP1nQax1skREIY7lNe9iZQIaVjCgBU8LajwZTsfyS8zlQw-Cs_SuRNEFv9NsGv63wIY99M-Xd31-U28SHqmi-8KJ77kk22eyVA61GJutjCHqNqsN8NiQ12Jfl4mO3g7yELRfoN3DNlx5MBo-uak6nyJqasSBAQ6VRP1PnxpFJ_uugMlZM9EvPQ/s4032/D18C298E-1CA3-4A34-8418-B03F2D0DA831.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0h-6WJP1nQax1skREIY7lNe9iZQIaVjCgBU8LajwZTsfyS8zlQw-Cs_SuRNEFv9NsGv63wIY99M-Xd31-U28SHqmi-8KJ77kk22eyVA61GJutjCHqNqsN8NiQ12Jfl4mO3g7yELRfoN3DNlx5MBo-uak6nyJqasSBAQ6VRP1PnxpFJ_uugMlZM9EvPQ/w480-h640/D18C298E-1CA3-4A34-8418-B03F2D0DA831.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Turning left off the delightful little cobbled street with its colourful ancient houses which hugged the Adige, we came to a square with one of Verona’s most important churches: the gothic <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sant%27Anastasia,_Verona" target="_blank">Chiesa di Santa Anastasia</a> (click the link for all you need to know). Construction began in 1280 and was completed in 1400 and it is most notable for its collection of art and sculpture by famous Veronese artists, together with its beautiful painted domed and arched ceiling, and marble flooring. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zfvrOYV3XR9cF9ko1ig3BEF5hOo56lSDTGWnRlPpAvwtywmW1u-5bLhZQ-ffTbe69BDv0vIJ4W6I2fjxpkyIbQvLYdNQ3XIo0ZiSiZTGrxezLl_aqXDSWyiCuRZBWaQit9T0C1PKhnA8cSybjfJiRClLVu6zikzu_Cf0qtlQRGiueYGsE07ak4ni6Q/s4032/14A4D97F-0164-4085-8583-3DB90E9BE5B8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zfvrOYV3XR9cF9ko1ig3BEF5hOo56lSDTGWnRlPpAvwtywmW1u-5bLhZQ-ffTbe69BDv0vIJ4W6I2fjxpkyIbQvLYdNQ3XIo0ZiSiZTGrxezLl_aqXDSWyiCuRZBWaQit9T0C1PKhnA8cSybjfJiRClLVu6zikzu_Cf0qtlQRGiueYGsE07ak4ni6Q/w480-h640/14A4D97F-0164-4085-8583-3DB90E9BE5B8.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1pMsX3q18p_SCIqMxAHi_hF_JjrtP2DFV1dcMccmhcLCt09g1qqKWiE4vltGKo3syFQ-oNz6oOaymY5inJzizNj19x4tRBICFe4T6PS3gMlvepV8V6mz4nu2Z-AaAA2I79cevLOrvLtrOrZxdpbIH8U6GyfZFX8_hzW2VejMIM4Es5AOXMagMqQ0oRw/s4032/ABC9B0E2-7E4B-44E5-993D-F68AA54C66E3.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1pMsX3q18p_SCIqMxAHi_hF_JjrtP2DFV1dcMccmhcLCt09g1qqKWiE4vltGKo3syFQ-oNz6oOaymY5inJzizNj19x4tRBICFe4T6PS3gMlvepV8V6mz4nu2Z-AaAA2I79cevLOrvLtrOrZxdpbIH8U6GyfZFX8_hzW2VejMIM4Es5AOXMagMqQ0oRw/w480-h640/ABC9B0E2-7E4B-44E5-993D-F68AA54C66E3.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwlaTtTTAheB1JMCuBed7xaZvQmlDQe10xMICIqDPtM2JpTxbuHE5tfq_U2e36xXe259e9F2v8AdyOpzzFNkXMgDiKFkQNW-CHuSukGJkqMu4ZjbYl31iqBeHM_z_HOQa9aAHTUga4xbugpraGgn2taawtJWm6HaaJllHg-j-dkBCqb7r7kzOclpDYw/s4032/253045B9-5355-4708-8B05-6627475A8726.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhya2YPCgOsZMAZ7GJ4Z21Ta73rUnv_ay3PXzoNOFpYZzlKdOKiwEdgA3JoPiHMAoO7gi0nv9VYpV82snewjVkgmd4qtGSCycrvKT0mdTNv_LRgYGMXnkWmYmKegk0fJEofEylLAKDMObG5iRV4RP5shyCSY-ALvWoji4n3vnn6juuYsAornaQUovm3_w/s4032/45133EB4-6CEC-4028-AAE4-A0E4D39A6A49.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhya2YPCgOsZMAZ7GJ4Z21Ta73rUnv_ay3PXzoNOFpYZzlKdOKiwEdgA3JoPiHMAoO7gi0nv9VYpV82snewjVkgmd4qtGSCycrvKT0mdTNv_LRgYGMXnkWmYmKegk0fJEofEylLAKDMObG5iRV4RP5shyCSY-ALvWoji4n3vnn6juuYsAornaQUovm3_w/w480-h640/45133EB4-6CEC-4028-AAE4-A0E4D39A6A49.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1EoFJ1xz0uIxkFq0xVv7BiVYkSdUvkpeISd1p6mxjaxhjogggS57WwXnd6Xi7cs3hPkVuRCuIg2yRV_eMIfHqPE-Ys1CWRArg1KNxEkuVBJI8tyotcZtcQ0rguN0_Psfc9GxaWsCZcqemFMdAUC1m_Ww1kdwSr9UkmCRDVj3ueo-ZMhh0fjpfDG5Yg/s4032/CCB55F46-06A8-458F-93EF-EED4CB7DA878.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1EoFJ1xz0uIxkFq0xVv7BiVYkSdUvkpeISd1p6mxjaxhjogggS57WwXnd6Xi7cs3hPkVuRCuIg2yRV_eMIfHqPE-Ys1CWRArg1KNxEkuVBJI8tyotcZtcQ0rguN0_Psfc9GxaWsCZcqemFMdAUC1m_Ww1kdwSr9UkmCRDVj3ueo-ZMhh0fjpfDG5Yg/w480-h640/CCB55F46-06A8-458F-93EF-EED4CB7DA878.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After all this cycling and culture lunch was calling - and I’d spotted <a href="https://www.sottoriva23.com/" target="_blank">Ostregheteria Sottoriva 23</a> under the porticoes near the river. Classic red and white table cloths, a good looking array of wines - what more could you want? The food was delicious too!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZYphrj3cxF0CBecQQj34kf7CqR__STuK1WxQdj2veHhV_jFsDu1pqYUwTL9Xq-36wOGRKI2k535SLm4lkjrDrvlrLE8IbgNMdzXgBSGBj0DRCt3OVnbKs0Uqd2y-UCPpSMTHftLtYLJTZq86UNVEoXFUixwPnCteWVhTx5H-wUkP-pppAsP1YgOc2oA/s4032/1D3AED6A-74C3-4206-959D-22654C321804.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZYphrj3cxF0CBecQQj34kf7CqR__STuK1WxQdj2veHhV_jFsDu1pqYUwTL9Xq-36wOGRKI2k535SLm4lkjrDrvlrLE8IbgNMdzXgBSGBj0DRCt3OVnbKs0Uqd2y-UCPpSMTHftLtYLJTZq86UNVEoXFUixwPnCteWVhTx5H-wUkP-pppAsP1YgOc2oA/w480-h640/1D3AED6A-74C3-4206-959D-22654C321804.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjikr-nV2VKxOSB4suy00pxdAEImPvlVv741SMPfNRzCFPiLSNJ9UNv8ckhFlfzLWuCdqHK5985TyLWn3yKyww8w0L1TzGy5Hqrsa1X6ewuVVWB0MG02M41g1BQiDmUJsrf3Kr_m1v2YyqBxHg84Y6rQbzI1hEF_kT1eyu6p4fO_43oY6lK6Twxwjg2gA/s4032/273DF8C2-749F-4808-8188-2F0DF89A937F.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjikr-nV2VKxOSB4suy00pxdAEImPvlVv741SMPfNRzCFPiLSNJ9UNv8ckhFlfzLWuCdqHK5985TyLWn3yKyww8w0L1TzGy5Hqrsa1X6ewuVVWB0MG02M41g1BQiDmUJsrf3Kr_m1v2YyqBxHg84Y6rQbzI1hEF_kT1eyu6p4fO_43oY6lK6Twxwjg2gA/w480-h640/273DF8C2-749F-4808-8188-2F0DF89A937F.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgowYkKo6w_nfTEiL909AQNWPWatV9DduigFQT9Oe-tpgsHtYzd3_KxInckKAcpkbc75h5ffg3-ce4lISl-OjkC4RgLCiy4Jv9fPUwQVWXtpVcEJPJxHKCqYsUVUk8wZ0tdda9BsE_vjVLeIo-nPc0OGC3-otyD5hv9ddg2RgUNmppjjA8834EGB6JF7g/s4032/E924CC01-6C2D-4205-B177-80E8F534C0A9.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgowYkKo6w_nfTEiL909AQNWPWatV9DduigFQT9Oe-tpgsHtYzd3_KxInckKAcpkbc75h5ffg3-ce4lISl-OjkC4RgLCiy4Jv9fPUwQVWXtpVcEJPJxHKCqYsUVUk8wZ0tdda9BsE_vjVLeIo-nPc0OGC3-otyD5hv9ddg2RgUNmppjjA8834EGB6JF7g/w480-h640/E924CC01-6C2D-4205-B177-80E8F534C0A9.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div><br /></div>After a jolly lunch and duly sated, we then took a look at the <a href="https://www.chieseverona.it/en/our-churches/the-cathedral-complex" target="_blank">Duomo</a> - you can buy tickets which include entry to all four key churches - which did not disappoint either. There is much to discover, as you will see if you click the above link. My eye was particularly caught by the ergonomic wooden benches we found inside; on discussion with the ticket seller, we found out that they were indeed new and had created much controversy as traditionalists felt they were too modernistic. I, however, found them rather beautfiful, their plain curves echoing the curve of the altar entrance and the colour and cylindrical design of the monumental pillars of marble. But each to their own…<div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLSz0YuiTVtJcd9dsg3x2Oj1_jWduH0jtDI88IxP9m57zWRC7_uW0oZPiPgMtFePGPcv2WrxpCQhJjNfyJE0Uj-einjuw8mjJXTmUwSmcE_5tBfr4lKI72V--PO-xn2xNJb4VHboJFFJSW7Cai13b4ZmaZV7czEqge-v-1WgfwUbXMBX_p99KHIeqS3g/s4032/B3F40AA6-7CC3-49B5-8EB2-6E89DF2B563F.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLSz0YuiTVtJcd9dsg3x2Oj1_jWduH0jtDI88IxP9m57zWRC7_uW0oZPiPgMtFePGPcv2WrxpCQhJjNfyJE0Uj-einjuw8mjJXTmUwSmcE_5tBfr4lKI72V--PO-xn2xNJb4VHboJFFJSW7Cai13b4ZmaZV7czEqge-v-1WgfwUbXMBX_p99KHIeqS3g/w480-h640/B3F40AA6-7CC3-49B5-8EB2-6E89DF2B563F.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPkqxcFPJGsTaIByjU1idVH9Ze3OeGXZ7vUSwF3QY8LEyhGFLSrOvdKxVvjKkpHXgC3B8V1YTZJMnIOazGi5cTZfYNYA7WVSaO8hl2iYmriTW6HB9064BLyJ4RT3wWi5aFpqj69eT9CiQfrsFIuPQdcpQAAR9CUtL4WitrgnYmGUDl0AwQH-eobLQCxg/s4032/E50B0151-0751-4CBE-9070-09DCBE6FBD17.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPkqxcFPJGsTaIByjU1idVH9Ze3OeGXZ7vUSwF3QY8LEyhGFLSrOvdKxVvjKkpHXgC3B8V1YTZJMnIOazGi5cTZfYNYA7WVSaO8hl2iYmriTW6HB9064BLyJ4RT3wWi5aFpqj69eT9CiQfrsFIuPQdcpQAAR9CUtL4WitrgnYmGUDl0AwQH-eobLQCxg/w480-h640/E50B0151-0751-4CBE-9070-09DCBE6FBD17.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQj_RtKdUkcGlTJR8UCK1QIsSjbR2hbDJ8VkaBs3QSh1MhxD8zKHhTPyFwRoVVhC_2rUc-6_H-R59frqL-Zofg4FXMiU9EW-Uv8otHtUSQVoXiTiXyY2mOJEy1ePY7H0KUACGvF0Rnr17ol142z59nYwKPLK5AlVPB1hzJQG_YS-CS7qD33R9CUbabow/s4032/E38729D5-467D-4971-B5BE-E25665925D41.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQj_RtKdUkcGlTJR8UCK1QIsSjbR2hbDJ8VkaBs3QSh1MhxD8zKHhTPyFwRoVVhC_2rUc-6_H-R59frqL-Zofg4FXMiU9EW-Uv8otHtUSQVoXiTiXyY2mOJEy1ePY7H0KUACGvF0Rnr17ol142z59nYwKPLK5AlVPB1hzJQG_YS-CS7qD33R9CUbabow/w480-h640/E38729D5-467D-4971-B5BE-E25665925D41.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP_KeTygtbvCqF-f66ZlidOox2xorin-TY2G9o3EwJqcLUKN9M5Rm5DjxUnbZ2_mMR7ulFvlJHZh1Zyi3QQHJ3FMAtCV5ZFZYs7m17lfVJYWkhAYPf5EvEaBjyQey_OMoHPvQWr-RC787ozl3MiU0sPDOHTsR78coN_6SEGUifKxk8tSLQJEtP8wbAUA/s4032/33B5C5CD-F769-43E3-AD63-AE1EFBBC3E60.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP_KeTygtbvCqF-f66ZlidOox2xorin-TY2G9o3EwJqcLUKN9M5Rm5DjxUnbZ2_mMR7ulFvlJHZh1Zyi3QQHJ3FMAtCV5ZFZYs7m17lfVJYWkhAYPf5EvEaBjyQey_OMoHPvQWr-RC787ozl3MiU0sPDOHTsR78coN_6SEGUifKxk8tSLQJEtP8wbAUA/w480-h640/33B5C5CD-F769-43E3-AD63-AE1EFBBC3E60.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>From here to the ancient <a href="http://www.veronissima.com/sito_inglese/html/gallery-roman-bridge.html" target="_blank">Roman Ponte Pietra</a> (Stone Bridge) and a cycle down the north side of the river towards the <a href="http://www.veronissima.com/sito_inglese/html/tour-museums-castelvecchio.html" target="_blank">Castelvecchio (Old Castle) Bridge</a> and its associated museum. This segmental arch bridge featured the world’s largest span at the time of its construction.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8M_jZXiMIL8PMMWCdWN0J6IWQDk1O6kAh58FSHodAqBW9X1Pl1YaWl38HaNlZRLe6Bswg_NY9Ol-KPj6ihBhd6RXYqrj1l0SmF15wvZdEmDmMIpxDKJbrm6RCH8wq_1jG7-TqoNSKCQDLtPpY_wHxN7vsSMcAHQ78uOIZGWkXJUdrWxY6G4C6SUcSA/s4032/E0609FA0-D24D-4C9F-8943-0B3590B238D8.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8M_jZXiMIL8PMMWCdWN0J6IWQDk1O6kAh58FSHodAqBW9X1Pl1YaWl38HaNlZRLe6Bswg_NY9Ol-KPj6ihBhd6RXYqrj1l0SmF15wvZdEmDmMIpxDKJbrm6RCH8wq_1jG7-TqoNSKCQDLtPpY_wHxN7vsSMcAHQ78uOIZGWkXJUdrWxY6G4C6SUcSA/w640-h480/E0609FA0-D24D-4C9F-8943-0B3590B238D8.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ponte Pietra</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhruQyrQgFW2uq4-M3IqzNJKfOapUrQkMXilp_re4_JNsXMHx7D8a654bz-HYR5hV09xIO7dW-amMfd8MYJg7mfIMbtPZX7YRxMgppWHEIKYHSPSIU75pILtSSZCx1NNGSZ8IqRHf1m0SC2JOoXRnXzZmT8asDymfTQ-wunYA9CeFAdtc4AMFKSfud-Xw/s4032/39F9FCF6-B80A-4324-A53D-CF5D622F83A2.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhruQyrQgFW2uq4-M3IqzNJKfOapUrQkMXilp_re4_JNsXMHx7D8a654bz-HYR5hV09xIO7dW-amMfd8MYJg7mfIMbtPZX7YRxMgppWHEIKYHSPSIU75pILtSSZCx1NNGSZ8IqRHf1m0SC2JOoXRnXzZmT8asDymfTQ-wunYA9CeFAdtc4AMFKSfud-Xw/w640-h480/39F9FCF6-B80A-4324-A53D-CF5D622F83A2.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Castelvecchio Bridge</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkMew1AISRtPjzw8dLLbYyXB9PDoFfsC1Wcz6sZp9d4wWCHqFYEKGcXiXW4wBeGsky_GE2MBuYa3xktW16dUW7k72CZPQIJZk3K5lbQIUtTxR_FKBSHloirpTU6U9Cgpx8WOyV5czcO87_pMY56Srug7JkGrrdBQOY3-9mfgb4Qdp8T6FJFyuRW0Lr9A/s4032/AEB19254-1791-400D-81F6-9F2684E78D48.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkMew1AISRtPjzw8dLLbYyXB9PDoFfsC1Wcz6sZp9d4wWCHqFYEKGcXiXW4wBeGsky_GE2MBuYa3xktW16dUW7k72CZPQIJZk3K5lbQIUtTxR_FKBSHloirpTU6U9Cgpx8WOyV5czcO87_pMY56Srug7JkGrrdBQOY3-9mfgb4Qdp8T6FJFyuRW0Lr9A/w480-h640/AEB19254-1791-400D-81F6-9F2684E78D48.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPhkjf9GLnw3nAS7ENA2e2Eh9lGVZ_7n319RoLelhcVSUsQ9mgOBdW03uVa6gRNwmOHTBkNYD3DewLQUtxX7JVx6sbSXqaURz8bB4mHWXjADMrQ8yFsjvIpEzp5Qd3V0Aid_w6xsJk_nbLMUt_HiqHMsM7EHiO6N_HOjBuosU65n3lsXlgQ05LqKgyBA/s4032/3E0798F0-509A-4E59-9CAF-2E1131589CFA.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPhkjf9GLnw3nAS7ENA2e2Eh9lGVZ_7n319RoLelhcVSUsQ9mgOBdW03uVa6gRNwmOHTBkNYD3DewLQUtxX7JVx6sbSXqaURz8bB4mHWXjADMrQ8yFsjvIpEzp5Qd3V0Aid_w6xsJk_nbLMUt_HiqHMsM7EHiO6N_HOjBuosU65n3lsXlgQ05LqKgyBA/w640-h480/3E0798F0-509A-4E59-9CAF-2E1131589CFA.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxYkKjrzXnWMhAneb3WZFQD14kEHxC4YSvAfkdLEmm70sIshT5NmdnF03qi32YL2Ks48mIb69b-7P-pTnzNHQneIXM_4Ht3yppKQ49wyt35afG2qG0Pd0oVSlTQSbh2POnUvYwSkIA34CGuVZpsH2nmnVeGomzsvzydR2A83zN_CdLeEI5UyzRvwsaA/s4032/09755622-3EB7-4DFD-ADC7-024D5D65F170.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxYkKjrzXnWMhAneb3WZFQD14kEHxC4YSvAfkdLEmm70sIshT5NmdnF03qi32YL2Ks48mIb69b-7P-pTnzNHQneIXM_4Ht3yppKQ49wyt35afG2qG0Pd0oVSlTQSbh2POnUvYwSkIA34CGuVZpsH2nmnVeGomzsvzydR2A83zN_CdLeEI5UyzRvwsaA/w480-h640/09755622-3EB7-4DFD-ADC7-024D5D65F170.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But now it was time to get the bikes back to the hotel, say goodbye to this iconic and very beautiful city, and to head north up the Autostrada towards our next destination - the tranquil shores of Lake Garda.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>To be continued….</i></div><br /><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><u><span style="font-size: medium;">Top Tips for </span><span style="font-size: medium;">Verona</span></u></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;">- hire a bike, or book a hotel which has bikes like ours (Hotel Milano & SPA, via 3 Marchetti)</b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;">- spend a minimum of 24 hours there</b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;">- take a stroll or cycle ride along the banks of the Adige river</b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;">- get lost in the old streets of the Citta Antica (Old Town)</b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;">- enjoy a coffee or well-earned drink at a cafe in the Piazza Bra (next to the Roman Arena) while watching the passing scene </b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;">- wander down the shopping street of Via Mazzini which leads off the Piazza Bra</b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;">- take the funicular up to the Castel San Pedro for a stunning hilltop view of the city</b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;">- enjoy a classic Italian meal in one of the many old Osteria or Trattorias, such as the <a href="https://www.bacarodellarena.it/#trattoria" target="_blank">Trattoria il Baccaro</a> on via 3 </b><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;">Marchetti</b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;">- key sights to visit are the ancient Roman Arena, Juliet’s House (Casa di Julieta), the old castle (Castelvecchio), and the Ponte Pietra (Roman stone bridge)</b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><b>- <a href="http://www.veronissima.com/en/christmas-verona.html" target="_blank">Christmas in Verona</a> is incredibly atmospheric and special: from November through December there are nativity scenes in all the churches, Christmas markets and the stunning comet at the Roman Arena - a sight not to be missed!</b></span></p></div>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-65003086541685080522022-04-01T17:26:00.001+01:002022-04-01T17:26:09.426+01:00Travels in Italy - Departure and Arrival <p><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHtv6gApuBIkQEMDaaKPIXF6hnFJTyEiMokEEFoIdzO8nkbMHm1eB5Gdc8X4a73dMYCq4bcFYzDu8Fy_uU0Lqjzih4EoY_k87nTDCHN2GaDRNTMCRf1OBzkbcQyKlLuEJzvB9l59ltznXH75Vmd87NcN4tL3Sxnb8IaGsX-ogg-Eg_ltd9Z_X6bznhtA/s4032/93F5C445-88D6-4B57-B55B-EF1836438B21.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHtv6gApuBIkQEMDaaKPIXF6hnFJTyEiMokEEFoIdzO8nkbMHm1eB5Gdc8X4a73dMYCq4bcFYzDu8Fy_uU0Lqjzih4EoY_k87nTDCHN2GaDRNTMCRf1OBzkbcQyKlLuEJzvB9l59ltznXH75Vmd87NcN4tL3Sxnb8IaGsX-ogg-Eg_ltd9Z_X6bznhtA/w640-h480/93F5C445-88D6-4B57-B55B-EF1836438B21.jpeg" width="640" /></a></i></div><i><br />I had planned to write about our travels in Italy while we were actually out there, and lugged my iPad around for three weeks on that basis; but the long shadow of a shocking new war made it impossible to find words that didn’t seem disrespectful to the horrors that others were enduring while we were indulging ourselves. To be honest, as the war rages on, I’m no more comfortable writing about it now, but I also felt it might be a small gift of hope to share a little joy in these dark days. For whatever extraordinary evil that occurs in this world, there is always hope to be found - and that we <b>must</b> find - if we are to find the strength to continue. Darkness must not prevail. The flame of hope for better things must keep burning. </i><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">*********</p><p>Many of us have not travelled for two years or more. My family have determinedly battled to get away during these times. It has not been easy and sometimes we have wondered if it was worth it; but we have persevered despite all the obstacles and hoops we’ve had to jump through, and I think we all agree that, on balance, it has been. </p><p>There is nothing like visiting another country, experiencing a different culture, history, language and climate, to re-ignite one’s zest for life. Two years of induced torpor have certainly taken their toll on me - even with a few trips away, my energy levels and sociability have dramatically decreased. Alarmingly so in fact. It has become so much easier NOT to do anything. And the less you do, the less you want to do. But then I take a long hard look at myself and think: ‘What have you become?! You used to have so much energy, dashing from one thing to another, going shopping, doing chores, meeting friends, hosting meals, running the house and family, gardening, exercising, always another project on the go etc etc etc.’ Now I get done in a whole day what I used to achieve in the first half hour…</p><p>So I am on a slow but determined route to change things for the better; to re-find that zest for life and the energy I used to have. </p><p>Going away is always troublesome: whether you have a lock-up and go home or one that requires more time and effort, there is always the laundry, the packing decisions, the sorting care for domestic animals, the paperwork and admin for travel, the bills to pay and business to attend to before you leave etc etc. In fact, even if I’m going away for just a week, I always feel like I may as well be going to my own funeral: I do jobs and tackle admin which have been left unattended to for months! Completely irrational, but it’s just how it is. With Covid, the admin and organisation side of things quadrupled - especially travelling with the whole family: five sets of pre-departure tests to be ordered, paid for, undertaken and results logged online; five sets of post arrival home tests to be ordered and paid for and taken and sent off to the labs; pre-departure forms, passenger locator forms, country of destination rules and regulations to be researched and fulfilled - goodness, it was a nightmare which mercifully my husband took charge of. One holiday we actually decided to scrap because it was all becoming too much - the stress of going away outweighing any benefits to be had from the holiday - only to find that we couldn’t get our deposit back, so we had to go anyway. </p><p>Thankfully those times are broadly behind us, certainly from the UK perspective, but there are still many countries where Covid rules and regulations are still in place. So for our recent trip to Italy - thankfully just the two of us - we had to fill in an Italian form ahead of departure and take Covid tests, but by the time we came home, we no longer had to fill in the UK passenger locator form or do any tests or self-isolation. So, armed with a ton of paperwork, including proof of vaccinations, we landed at a very quiet Verona airport on 1st March, 2022, around 6.30pm. After a no-doubt busy day, the authorities seemed to have had enough - not one aspect of our paperwork was actually checked. The luggage came out almost instantly and beyond showing our passport, nothing more was required. Easy. A relief - though frustrating that we’d spent so much time and money getting everything in order only for no-one to bother to check…</p><p>Car hire was equally queue and trouble-free and soon enough we were in the middle of the ‘Centro Storico’ (Historic Old Town) of Verona, checking into our hotel. Here we had to show our ‘Green Pass’ (proof of Covid vaccinations) and masks were still obligatory in Italy (and on our Ryanair flight) - not any old mask mind you, but the FFP2 variety, which we’d had to purchase rapidly just ahead of our departure. For reasons unknown, they gave us an upgrade to a small suite with a terrace, which was much appreciated, even if it was only for one short night! Still, a great start to the trip…</p><p>We’d seen there was a roof-top bar too, so we headed straight up there for a celebratory drink and to admire the amazing views of Verona’s Roman Arena, beautifully illuminated, which you could practically reach out and touch, a higgeldy-piggeldy landscape of ancient terracotta rooves, and a carpet of twinkling lights in the dark night from homes and lit-up monuments. It was pretty special, and as we sipped our Prosecco and Negroni and tucked into fat green olives, dips and nibbles (all complementary), we finally breathed a sigh of relief and could properly look forward to the delights which awaited us in the next three weeks. This was a trip that was planned to celebrate my husband’s retirement last year, but had had to be postponed due to Covid lockdowns. We were visiting old haunts from when we lived in Italy in the 1990s, catching up with friends we hadn’t seen for 30 years, dipping into Lake Garda, skiing in the majestic and breath-takingly beautiful Dolomites, and ending up where our Italian story had first begun - in the beautiful university city of Padua, just a stone’s throw from Venice, the jewel in the Veneto crown. </p><p>So after quiet contemplation and appreciation of the unique nightscape that surrounded us, we went to go and enjoy our first authentic Italian meal since we were last in Italy in late February 2020, just as the Covid-19 pandemic first took hold in northern Italy…</p><p><i>(To be continued…)</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkr4G_lFM3MbIYJ8AziT9iLo7mLFH1swiijQnugVIacW9NpS5mIRn92pTObLa2WK0BvUBEN67_ab5XL1BUcJ8A31xIR9FNs8DuWTJOzzql_s0g_o469dmF2DwYw5_K0qf4JHDyxCRa1MiDY4JRN9d284m_0wkZw5EVrx2FfEW2m9WkTdDCnBzlGWBedg/s4032/2A730F77-8BB9-4F13-B7D8-06E77CAE4A1F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkr4G_lFM3MbIYJ8AziT9iLo7mLFH1swiijQnugVIacW9NpS5mIRn92pTObLa2WK0BvUBEN67_ab5XL1BUcJ8A31xIR9FNs8DuWTJOzzql_s0g_o469dmF2DwYw5_K0qf4JHDyxCRa1MiDY4JRN9d284m_0wkZw5EVrx2FfEW2m9WkTdDCnBzlGWBedg/w480-h640/2A730F77-8BB9-4F13-B7D8-06E77CAE4A1F.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Aperitivo time</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0s2gL0w1Eu2dNW3qqOC8Sl-VABksbu5TxI6lzP9rgoaU0NFQMK6vGvr9bFXAFqwX0WU8fK5gbxgzcEh0x-Gg5v0_yNgzckJaug2rsed5wlz4zqwQVPPn9jTulmGbCpvfXsifEIPyTkDF1i110a7PD9MwSd2BVnrcaK8zS4DP65z_2VTqYsXlIeEhE2A/s4032/07B5FAC6-58FE-4978-A6DE-B771706F81DF.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0s2gL0w1Eu2dNW3qqOC8Sl-VABksbu5TxI6lzP9rgoaU0NFQMK6vGvr9bFXAFqwX0WU8fK5gbxgzcEh0x-Gg5v0_yNgzckJaug2rsed5wlz4zqwQVPPn9jTulmGbCpvfXsifEIPyTkDF1i110a7PD9MwSd2BVnrcaK8zS4DP65z_2VTqYsXlIeEhE2A/w480-h640/07B5FAC6-58FE-4978-A6DE-B771706F81DF.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Cafe tables on the Piazza Bra at midnight</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQo4QMLCQcO3AuDgFXthn8lUEXLLmyuxA2j-vuegJuHAP_6ZxziLKn8Jyv8e4Ne_p398vr-cCkFP2Xnj1LDNXxnVNxsVhXWNGfwwohPwa5NjkNF_m8Svw09L9JA7dKYyOCfQ0r_N9f60YFlLUi4rbfdwA3gCAxGTYXCX1s7m_cxDnfeV3J2e5R2Qovw/s4032/09CB8FB9-9960-4117-94B1-C10A77DC2454.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQo4QMLCQcO3AuDgFXthn8lUEXLLmyuxA2j-vuegJuHAP_6ZxziLKn8Jyv8e4Ne_p398vr-cCkFP2Xnj1LDNXxnVNxsVhXWNGfwwohPwa5NjkNF_m8Svw09L9JA7dKYyOCfQ0r_N9f60YFlLUi4rbfdwA3gCAxGTYXCX1s7m_cxDnfeV3J2e5R2Qovw/w480-h640/09CB8FB9-9960-4117-94B1-C10A77DC2454.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0OtRZ_K7wCBYSiTStA4h41I6I2QGbpmLc_LPyLapz7qqReJwpMJe__Pnw4VGrAXf3p_kXbkJLkaPmlhSqrPkHkB6RqKS276nyNO9xwE5gxntW9wkmnbM9l0Rj11Hk0wK6cOpZNRPZkmqhNBEkTq2vNG6r9PaeDkyln3MDaAn1S0RPnBVPgqUF0JkzHA/s4032/38E44310-0198-485C-AEE4-4B37DE630063.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0OtRZ_K7wCBYSiTStA4h41I6I2QGbpmLc_LPyLapz7qqReJwpMJe__Pnw4VGrAXf3p_kXbkJLkaPmlhSqrPkHkB6RqKS276nyNO9xwE5gxntW9wkmnbM9l0Rj11Hk0wK6cOpZNRPZkmqhNBEkTq2vNG6r9PaeDkyln3MDaAn1S0RPnBVPgqUF0JkzHA/w640-h480/38E44310-0198-485C-AEE4-4B37DE630063.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Piazza Bra</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKahHQfh--4rRGrujSm4Ca8shWt20BLkvN-mao93MI6FcUL-dPxgMATd8gF0iPgwbMqkWGT-VjP8Pd8lypgUpoKHAWd3DFVvHfVpmzmNVZk4amvF1QOwcUzmpZW5fovNvE4aMgKGPz1KXDqswvzFMng3D4J91hef1yvY4yfvpWpg6U8KSyWV8BAdm2og/s4032/835EE456-C82A-4A33-BB95-3F87D4B53078.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKahHQfh--4rRGrujSm4Ca8shWt20BLkvN-mao93MI6FcUL-dPxgMATd8gF0iPgwbMqkWGT-VjP8Pd8lypgUpoKHAWd3DFVvHfVpmzmNVZk4amvF1QOwcUzmpZW5fovNvE4aMgKGPz1KXDqswvzFMng3D4J91hef1yvY4yfvpWpg6U8KSyWV8BAdm2og/w480-h640/835EE456-C82A-4A33-BB95-3F87D4B53078.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Traditional Pasta Fagioli soup & a glass of local Valpolicella</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3g3SXVz-mX2kZZJi2jJt_U_5_vvACoOwSUoMo1AbSaB7aaOvOjLC2oekit6ujXD2IluBkVaMkXJc2VVzsc_BBqKFBBpgSl1HhdQCm77msV5uas--6r-cF-Y1D11KUqURLaCKdPjmfT2tFfZeAEptILwA7URGR48vWO8UlCytN-h3B_RbZwlMmTSJag/s4032/7651F1A7-04D2-443D-8AAE-01D6B85DB941.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3g3SXVz-mX2kZZJi2jJt_U_5_vvACoOwSUoMo1AbSaB7aaOvOjLC2oekit6ujXD2IluBkVaMkXJc2VVzsc_BBqKFBBpgSl1HhdQCm77msV5uas--6r-cF-Y1D11KUqURLaCKdPjmfT2tFfZeAEptILwA7URGR48vWO8UlCytN-h3B_RbZwlMmTSJag/w480-h640/7651F1A7-04D2-443D-8AAE-01D6B85DB941.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Arena</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjDY5ETY60JF7N6bc6fTiIFuAsZrhsEFdaeCUP-gs5qo17a7nhVHJSw43rbg9yOzbAcQ2yTCRmMbsXsUx_uiNjw8gdBgl2I3E8RhmgeAQJa39_r3ozPiKGXUmgIFvJJgl3BkUOKDoxAgJjSzQ1S24rThsfsq0TeJwYN9lFV_jnKhjPpMdarue_mZWXxg/s4032/34380CE6-53FC-462F-A922-EBAB7BF5B0DA.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjDY5ETY60JF7N6bc6fTiIFuAsZrhsEFdaeCUP-gs5qo17a7nhVHJSw43rbg9yOzbAcQ2yTCRmMbsXsUx_uiNjw8gdBgl2I3E8RhmgeAQJa39_r3ozPiKGXUmgIFvJJgl3BkUOKDoxAgJjSzQ1S24rThsfsq0TeJwYN9lFV_jnKhjPpMdarue_mZWXxg/w480-h640/34380CE6-53FC-462F-A922-EBAB7BF5B0DA.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_r_g_d7ZCcRryb4I1V4sQuiWRyaTubpPcdMObtoQ_jKObV-z-aOybQk67VA_3cxcMdsG_UkLvCLS_DpvF7XPpMyNiXMNPYual4w14uXbv4AbFOBcL8Js5Z0Z2KrQ_BbnHzy6LIHp_D0OWYKaYmkdb6zHzlqAnb5BBlOmh7JrmeYx5D5jPv_9rVuRaZA/s4032/A8D26116-7B6D-4237-8799-480724B19915.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_r_g_d7ZCcRryb4I1V4sQuiWRyaTubpPcdMObtoQ_jKObV-z-aOybQk67VA_3cxcMdsG_UkLvCLS_DpvF7XPpMyNiXMNPYual4w14uXbv4AbFOBcL8Js5Z0Z2KrQ_BbnHzy6LIHp_D0OWYKaYmkdb6zHzlqAnb5BBlOmh7JrmeYx5D5jPv_9rVuRaZA/w480-h640/A8D26116-7B6D-4237-8799-480724B19915.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYoH3Kh6hj6PDnSTdBqvQcxMzlPFT5unQ8zx5KO4UyJMOMnjZRCgQKIb8JB7kfVgypiqg74hRquAEbz9ycT5sc0uW7TYkj3tS97HI_XifrmzFeRIp0Dn98AkBdRFipUuE2qth_nx1-O8kQ4HdXwzp0-aStVlBq5f8f0PQ20ddZNCUW-pQsSizlrP-vIQ/s4032/A851CD14-BEF0-4DD2-8D84-7E29221B2986.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYoH3Kh6hj6PDnSTdBqvQcxMzlPFT5unQ8zx5KO4UyJMOMnjZRCgQKIb8JB7kfVgypiqg74hRquAEbz9ycT5sc0uW7TYkj3tS97HI_XifrmzFeRIp0Dn98AkBdRFipUuE2qth_nx1-O8kQ4HdXwzp0-aStVlBq5f8f0PQ20ddZNCUW-pQsSizlrP-vIQ/w480-h640/A851CD14-BEF0-4DD2-8D84-7E29221B2986.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Our hotel street in the Centro Storico</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIzKcuyuc8AtxCtIMDOcJQYAPygz658tKqbrt0XEENlT-MbN3jGIG20ram-s2XxNAErEGHY9V757tZb5InhwhOa6aJjpFuivissgB5SoovdvO52ShtWBG-Rgt97I9T_IgXvkVaT2GBTce9kuXBOcacKWo972dXIgUuVsbgq1o5gRG68N_U-lZH1yrh7A/s4032/B592A133-C96B-4D47-9595-A27F1112617A.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIzKcuyuc8AtxCtIMDOcJQYAPygz658tKqbrt0XEENlT-MbN3jGIG20ram-s2XxNAErEGHY9V757tZb5InhwhOa6aJjpFuivissgB5SoovdvO52ShtWBG-Rgt97I9T_IgXvkVaT2GBTce9kuXBOcacKWo972dXIgUuVsbgq1o5gRG68N_U-lZH1yrh7A/w480-h640/B592A133-C96B-4D47-9595-A27F1112617A.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>‘Empty chairs at empty tables’ </i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglzmi4uds3GQSR4FOQG_gEMefvklnpRGlMQqMuBUSbSMwQOnUgZT_sYYSOQmQdYl__0dvEjQqVzE4CdeAtgINEZ_q4xGJtllh4F47zqCsWhjlSeBW9IM0Qc4Hum7vp_PbVYmYw9CLnnRSZSTXiq7aKBSJ2GyiaXeyWmLINVCSIRDNb-5EptIV1UjSCXg/s4032/BE449A4D-EE44-4501-B3CA-9A2213F1AD77.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglzmi4uds3GQSR4FOQG_gEMefvklnpRGlMQqMuBUSbSMwQOnUgZT_sYYSOQmQdYl__0dvEjQqVzE4CdeAtgINEZ_q4xGJtllh4F47zqCsWhjlSeBW9IM0Qc4Hum7vp_PbVYmYw9CLnnRSZSTXiq7aKBSJ2GyiaXeyWmLINVCSIRDNb-5EptIV1UjSCXg/w640-h480/BE449A4D-EE44-4501-B3CA-9A2213F1AD77.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKpjTvTazyoKGydQG2M8mDcb7YocZYo9sDpmj-KH1rOPQJzPhCf9YVXsENGRmfGGqN_bKHhm8dEKhUGbsHM4pR8FINqcp8RhyUA7HnRzlobUIZmEeQXXkYNI238uklLQNtW5lOAFx1WPTu26Q00D7FORJNIJoHDXDj43-aMTjuAXHH702kyXj9j2g6Q/s4032/BFD1826E-37D9-4E81-ADE7-0BCCADC3B9BC.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKpjTvTazyoKGydQG2M8mDcb7YocZYo9sDpmj-KH1rOPQJzPhCf9YVXsENGRmfGGqN_bKHhm8dEKhUGbsHM4pR8FINqcp8RhyUA7HnRzlobUIZmEeQXXkYNI238uklLQNtW5lOAFx1WPTu26Q00D7FORJNIJoHDXDj43-aMTjuAXHH702kyXj9j2g6Q/w480-h640/BFD1826E-37D9-4E81-ADE7-0BCCADC3B9BC.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NCii28NwA7bP06s7mReptRiBjAIubCTNnR6EtJJMQ0xJF-tW4_mkx_MVameuKKBMG5hBrHdU6LquLmJOjAXx-mMMGqC7bRHgFN4DDwSOP58n9ud4yF4FASqxU7ig0sEVvDmB0a96LMU3bFZEDaQQBmwRrYjvoukL0ZROPnQBbdcZLGCnAtEwBHZLIg/s4032/D1F15A85-75D0-43BA-96B2-51A4E8631052.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NCii28NwA7bP06s7mReptRiBjAIubCTNnR6EtJJMQ0xJF-tW4_mkx_MVameuKKBMG5hBrHdU6LquLmJOjAXx-mMMGqC7bRHgFN4DDwSOP58n9ud4yF4FASqxU7ig0sEVvDmB0a96LMU3bFZEDaQQBmwRrYjvoukL0ZROPnQBbdcZLGCnAtEwBHZLIg/w480-h640/D1F15A85-75D0-43BA-96B2-51A4E8631052.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>The traditional trattoria next to our hotel where we dined</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhffE2jcti-VXyfaRxU59zGkm6EIzHXu2pEt2qSA_C9Nb9_ROPvxBWZhWpWy4JhNiYllWIr2_5wJr9yxVLuRbjSLcW-w40L8H-pHtZW8zeGhSHmf1PauM-W1hayvVZgpQnaOHsfTlk5S5Wl8G-N6CGaQgEw4Jxp2QDrPOyTjnEmfs4yHIS0LscFrZFnyA/s4032/D68E582B-30A8-482B-9070-5A04281D5E59.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhffE2jcti-VXyfaRxU59zGkm6EIzHXu2pEt2qSA_C9Nb9_ROPvxBWZhWpWy4JhNiYllWIr2_5wJr9yxVLuRbjSLcW-w40L8H-pHtZW8zeGhSHmf1PauM-W1hayvVZgpQnaOHsfTlk5S5Wl8G-N6CGaQgEw4Jxp2QDrPOyTjnEmfs4yHIS0LscFrZFnyA/w480-h640/D68E582B-30A8-482B-9070-5A04281D5E59.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Pas un chat dans la rue…</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm4ag8fwOueI2kA9mjl618b0gIjTKG4bkl_lsoDo95d2OksFS_y_YQiNFoCMoEV9TEEOpnUtRwhfZpdwztKeX_wJofGs_PP5Gmj0_d8biXoxgf-sheHF4GPcrP9Rsd7B_PTb_0bO9A_dK1yPZhY-o86XPk0EIuC5Cg1eFn37xY3xZm9UVuZZn1uh-uXQ/s4032/E2ADBA3F-F0CB-4D6D-B9E8-D8B9735A8102.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm4ag8fwOueI2kA9mjl618b0gIjTKG4bkl_lsoDo95d2OksFS_y_YQiNFoCMoEV9TEEOpnUtRwhfZpdwztKeX_wJofGs_PP5Gmj0_d8biXoxgf-sheHF4GPcrP9Rsd7B_PTb_0bO9A_dK1yPZhY-o86XPk0EIuC5Cg1eFn37xY3xZm9UVuZZn1uh-uXQ/w640-h480/E2ADBA3F-F0CB-4D6D-B9E8-D8B9735A8102.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Roof top terrace</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><i><br /></i><p></p><p><br /></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-38089456682813088252022-03-30T16:36:00.007+01:002022-04-04T00:45:54.863+01:00The Sights and Sounds of Spring <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrTXyELH0PTrYNwcyzaxdsvzJCbYn2FEYpQ0aXDoB1aHqaKsyi9qmGzAOlF5RbHB5MGywSbdxGrfNfw8m92zk8jDjlLFUknxT610SzJAztHenuu538xRY89Y1DGr8o6hWwElFqS8IwNBfF8xR4hBHE9klbzdkgDMkSQheAAZgJUE3VhSSIW5SQkA8hLA/s4032/AB7F35D3-AAA6-4313-ABF1-A182821B94D2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrTXyELH0PTrYNwcyzaxdsvzJCbYn2FEYpQ0aXDoB1aHqaKsyi9qmGzAOlF5RbHB5MGywSbdxGrfNfw8m92zk8jDjlLFUknxT610SzJAztHenuu538xRY89Y1DGr8o6hWwElFqS8IwNBfF8xR4hBHE9klbzdkgDMkSQheAAZgJUE3VhSSIW5SQkA8hLA/w480-h640/AB7F35D3-AAA6-4313-ABF1-A182821B94D2.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><p>After the glorious week of warm spring sunshine and cloudless skies we enjoyed last week in the UK - yes, even here in the wet and windy High Peak! - we have returned to cooler, cloudier weather with even snow forecast on high ground (though no sign of that yet…). </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p>I think we were all keen to get out and about and enjoy this gift of Nature with walks, gardening and the like - and I was no exception. It was fabulous to have so much sunlight to bask in after the long winter months, and to wander round the garden spotting everything bursting into life after the dormant season. It was amazing how the garden changed after just a week of warm weather - my rather tragic looking kale plants, for example, put on well over an inch of growth and loads of new leaves in just a few days! Trees and shrubs have started budding and in some cases new leaves appearing. More spring flowers are appearing all the time and there is a sense of hope and expectation of better things to come. </p><p>You can read the full blog post, over at The Gardening Habit, by clicking <a href="https://thegardeninghabit.blogspot.com/2022/03/the-sights-and-sounds-of-spring.html" target="_blank">here</a>. </p></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Wmd8mMBrjP98sweWjKB_5ZOXqPv5kTbbsZLpBOpVscyeeGDeOE8emyFTGjEQuSyRIFbnoT7rjb6M_o-aH1OYudS-aQWrU02Dqs0HTl2-pkf1NiBXdqjI9HajlXd22E47b8lF8WvVPAjfpRUH_qOm6H2sZp3s1BvEQzjEt9Y-0pHgWc0ose925L7ndQ/s4032/31A4267C-BABF-4021-8D52-4681FD778F4D.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Wmd8mMBrjP98sweWjKB_5ZOXqPv5kTbbsZLpBOpVscyeeGDeOE8emyFTGjEQuSyRIFbnoT7rjb6M_o-aH1OYudS-aQWrU02Dqs0HTl2-pkf1NiBXdqjI9HajlXd22E47b8lF8WvVPAjfpRUH_qOm6H2sZp3s1BvEQzjEt9Y-0pHgWc0ose925L7ndQ/w480-h640/31A4267C-BABF-4021-8D52-4681FD778F4D.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9VIMs-ghnEKQACsZe9b2rotrhxH6Ptoc_Hj4IB6OHEapjgxWT-Y72RKUB_kTyJd4j_vTFghoQvYDglcaj4IoHgtMZqy79XVYN-WrJar9cFpt8ecY16HbpTSnRxEJSNiOvMIqwS6IImzmOL6ZI-tUgHS8_qU4mTCko9QWNUMjlnPBgp_8cXUECPyGrVw/w480-h640/05C40298-C742-4742-877F-5315DC5C1BEC.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2JOtKqcnG2m1sy_d99NU2GPhM9RK9cdvg5PWiEKDEPBBUTK74FP_NFrHa1AhcL_nC5bzSlpmN-guj5Y1M4LWZDe0sIh2E3vAh8bJX5gJx9E7qhaoM8tr_wL1NW7f6fdj5gP23YPEeSHMKWi8zysGhG2WoLHfrwJ4ysNgkk-jz6OZU-O2hA9C7jEq5UA/s4032/943C87B2-82F6-4D5F-BFA7-F2FD78639DAD.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2JOtKqcnG2m1sy_d99NU2GPhM9RK9cdvg5PWiEKDEPBBUTK74FP_NFrHa1AhcL_nC5bzSlpmN-guj5Y1M4LWZDe0sIh2E3vAh8bJX5gJx9E7qhaoM8tr_wL1NW7f6fdj5gP23YPEeSHMKWi8zysGhG2WoLHfrwJ4ysNgkk-jz6OZU-O2hA9C7jEq5UA/w480-h640/943C87B2-82F6-4D5F-BFA7-F2FD78639DAD.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiORFMoHnq6kVWwwQmBEf_oHCAFj6lpr-OGiYe8L_rqgT28V8XEE_u6nmC4_uaiz529PzmqCfN57hwjO-kPicj8NqDveVaxl5VjlyaP-TH_MXuhTHJmWQJTNEuXA73ywTU-ANVOkon9TYr--iIIhJSrIHPCkCRwiPT9zy-TMkAJg-GXK48ocvxB7mJ-Q/s3314/7EBCFE49-D4DC-4FEF-A2FB-61906F4218EE.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3314" data-original-width="1838" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiORFMoHnq6kVWwwQmBEf_oHCAFj6lpr-OGiYe8L_rqgT28V8XEE_u6nmC4_uaiz529PzmqCfN57hwjO-kPicj8NqDveVaxl5VjlyaP-TH_MXuhTHJmWQJTNEuXA73ywTU-ANVOkon9TYr--iIIhJSrIHPCkCRwiPT9zy-TMkAJg-GXK48ocvxB7mJ-Q/w354-h640/7EBCFE49-D4DC-4FEF-A2FB-61906F4218EE.jpeg" width="354" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-41213915826598321512022-02-04T20:19:00.003+00:002022-04-04T00:49:11.071+01:00New Post on The Gardening Habit<p>Just to let you know that I have just written a new post over at <a href="http://thegardeninghabit.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Gardening Habit</a> on the wonderful respite your garden and nature can gift you - and all for free! You can find the post <a href="https://thegardeninghabit.blogspot.com/2022/02/taking-respite-in-garden.html" target="_blank">here</a>. </p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-73411936366287284402021-12-31T19:24:00.000+00:002021-12-31T19:24:08.962+00:00Reflections on Living in the Peak District and the Definition of ‘Home’<p>2021 marked the 70th Anniversary of the designation of the Peak District as Britain’s first ever National Park. There are now 15 of them up and down the length of this land, the most recent being The South Downs, designated in 2010. I feel privileged to have enjoyed living in both the oldest and the youngest one, at the appropriate ends of my life: I grew up on the South Downs, I am growing old in the Peak District. Isn’t there a certain serendipitous circularity to that?</p><p>So from the softly rounded chalk hills of the South Downs, forming a splendid 87-mile band from Winchester to Beachy Head and separating rolling green-gold pastures from the grey-green waters of the English Channel, I moved north in mid-life to the harsher, darker crags of the Peak District: from the soft, salty air of the south wafting hints and lures of the continent, to the biting winds of the north swirling menacingly around our chimney stacks bringing rains and snow on their angry breath, mine has been an English life of two halves. </p><p>When I started this blog, 14 long years ago, I was a different person to the one who writes today, superficially at least. For one’s heart and soul doesn’t really change, does it? It grows and develops, for sure, as that is the purpose of life’s journey, but I do believe your essence remains the same. The essence of the energy of that life form that emerges from your mother’s womb - that is YOU. Some of us start strong and become weaker; some start weak and become stronger. It depends what life throws at you. I was in the former camp at the point where I was required to move north, against my will, for my husband’s career, in 2003. My younger years had been notable for my self-confidence and happiness, but somewhere along the way I had lost my purpose, my direction and my self-esteem. By my 40th birthday, instead of being in the prime of my life, I had lost all sense of self and I had grown weak. Very weak.</p><p>It took me four years to work my way into my new unexpected life up here, despite the fact I loved the house and garden we had found and which I worked so hard at making ‘home’. But when an already weak plant has been uprooted and re-planted in unfamiliar soil, it takes a while to adapt. Much nurture and careful attention is required to nurse it back into healthy life. And so that was my task for the first four years of life in the Peak District. We were a band of five, trying to make an unfamiliar place familiar. My husband had his career to focus on and that brought with it a ready-made sense of belonging. For me it was so much harder. Being left alone at the beginning of every day with three little girls under the age of four with all my support network - my parents, my friends, my routines and basic services of doctor, dentist and hairdresser - removed from my life, was not easy. Especially when I couldn’t even look after myself at that point. My spirit at that time was broken, my mental and emotional world in chaos, my health was suffering. So yes, it was a difficult period, especially when I had moved to a small village community which was rooted in its landscape, traditions and family and which daily taunted me with how ‘separate’ I felt. Somehow making a life abroad - as I had done in both France and Italy - had been far easier than making a life in a different part of my own country of birth. Abroad is abroad. Home is home. But this wasn’t my home. My home was down south. This was everyone else’s home but mine, it seemed, as I met people at the school gates talking in my own language about places and things I’d never heard of or experienced or could even envisage. I don’t think I have ever felt more like a fish out of water. Or such utter loneliness. </p><p>But time heals. Bit by bit I became stronger in myself again once my chronic depression had been diagnosed and I worked my way through drugs and therapies. As the children’s routines became embedded in their school lives, so my own grew new roots too. Things started to feel familiar. I started to feel part of the fabric of this place. Eventually, even heading north from the south coast of England finally felt like ‘coming home’.</p><p>18 years down the line, it is hard to imagine home as anywhere else. Home is where the memories have been made. Home is where my children have been brought up. Home is where you feel safe and warm. This handsome old house that we live in has done that and so much more. She has enveloped us in her thick stone walls and allowed us to gaze on glorious nature from her mullioned windows. She has stood here on this earth so much longer than us. She has lived through an ever-changing world. She has been home to so many before us, absorbing the details and emotions of their lives over the centuries, but the view from here never changes. It is timeless. It is raw. It is beautiful. And it will be here way beyond us. </p><p>I posed two questions when I started my blog in 2007: ‘Does a southerner become a northerner, do you ever go back south? And do you rebel from a life in the wake of a husband’s career, or do you stick with it for better or worse?’ Well, it seems that I am still here, even with my children’s schooling finished and my husband’s career ended. Knowing the north as I now do, I would never presume to call myself a northerner, but I am not quite a southerner these days either! I have been shown new perspectives on my own country and my fellow countrymen and I love and respect all that I have learned. As with a good marriage, you ride the highs and the lows and hopefully come out stronger. The last 18 years haven’t always been easy, but the lessons I’ve learned along the way have brought me back to a place of inner strength. The backdrop to that journey has been these ancient hills, ever present, ever stoic. The healing power of Nature. For that, I will be forever grateful. </p><p>It seems only fitting to end these musings with some images of my last walk of 2021 in the majestic, immutable landscape that has become, without question, ‘Home’. </p><p>Happy New Year to you all.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEighMiIeENvdOM8249yGHAcSmuXMW2QqT_yA44hTwsy-EfamtmtSyEvUsJDgxxTUfMVcpX0nwUQRC8xKexg1LUijq6_uUK0s4blRjc0lA37Nw6jlMA551-s9Os4NjB9fs2AaFiDmqxa8aNQrLZz-41DwHeB9auM6sslwKIPkTh94t5cZ7GynvUoKL9BLA=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEighMiIeENvdOM8249yGHAcSmuXMW2QqT_yA44hTwsy-EfamtmtSyEvUsJDgxxTUfMVcpX0nwUQRC8xKexg1LUijq6_uUK0s4blRjc0lA37Nw6jlMA551-s9Os4NjB9fs2AaFiDmqxa8aNQrLZz-41DwHeB9auM6sslwKIPkTh94t5cZ7GynvUoKL9BLA=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgcpbU6OhaKlAjYHf_Gx6EyCAsjowgFXgfWSeg6OsAxRaUE6I6xzAJ9XersblTZpTXcgbmCsClQEogsTaZM2KHYWyHb2LLTTwnFx_IghwRC2eSInWpr5vSKTVgnr3EGSBHVQPxCNzi1tixInzXVntISYZ5076Mw-a0DBx2EB6s4_v4DlSIAamxQJI1_Cw=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgcpbU6OhaKlAjYHf_Gx6EyCAsjowgFXgfWSeg6OsAxRaUE6I6xzAJ9XersblTZpTXcgbmCsClQEogsTaZM2KHYWyHb2LLTTwnFx_IghwRC2eSInWpr5vSKTVgnr3EGSBHVQPxCNzi1tixInzXVntISYZ5076Mw-a0DBx2EB6s4_v4DlSIAamxQJI1_Cw=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhE3aJnOQeh1yRnm59otBpEzLQnP8sEOIKdh4kXsFtGFNjLX7JA71NWA8KKNIvd4D-1oBUK7fEPuSkiVW8vIg1O4nSifuEozbm3k8ECBXRhy06vDGteXrDoIG4wfvg4TFJVeaegDruWlQ9pPxrcCdcFQ3z0_y44wuRCSNrkfCYhIDmRouZYlkt7MYsiGw=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhE3aJnOQeh1yRnm59otBpEzLQnP8sEOIKdh4kXsFtGFNjLX7JA71NWA8KKNIvd4D-1oBUK7fEPuSkiVW8vIg1O4nSifuEozbm3k8ECBXRhy06vDGteXrDoIG4wfvg4TFJVeaegDruWlQ9pPxrcCdcFQ3z0_y44wuRCSNrkfCYhIDmRouZYlkt7MYsiGw=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-89234145371429617442021-11-20T13:28:00.000+00:002021-11-20T13:28:07.998+00:00November Reflections<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWiAk9N0gFtL1GRkOn8w7VQKKNz-iOwPLcoU1TNprdCcXxBzIqsmljlVFCKw2jwa28ALqlPuZMbYteC96XL01eDwe3bDKdBEXdgC08vi39QqgUhw3W4H5sVr0kfDk5P52s9D0eLAZTntRu/s2048/649D65E0-8C9A-4C1A-9559-2A5ED606AE27.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWiAk9N0gFtL1GRkOn8w7VQKKNz-iOwPLcoU1TNprdCcXxBzIqsmljlVFCKw2jwa28ALqlPuZMbYteC96XL01eDwe3bDKdBEXdgC08vi39QqgUhw3W4H5sVr0kfDk5P52s9D0eLAZTntRu/w480-h640/649D65E0-8C9A-4C1A-9559-2A5ED606AE27.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>View from a bridge, Jesmond Dene Park, Newcastle<br /><br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table><p>November is a funny month. It’s a bit like Marmite - you either love it or loathe it! </p><p>I used to be a November-lover, but for the last seven years, I have been beset by family trauma every November. In November 2014, my father fell ill on Remembrance Sunday which was 9th November that year. He died 10 days later (yesterday was the 7 year anniversary) after a hugely stressful and traumatic week in intensive care and the stroke ward (the fatal stroke was induced by the defibrillator to re-set his tachycardia), it seems that I have been set on a course to suffer intensely in those dark, dank, stormy days, of the eleventh month, throwing all my plans to be ‘ready for Christmas’ and leaving me physically and emotionally drained. </p><p>This year, however - and I hardly dare say this as the month is not out yet! - a certain calm is ruling. The weather is mainly still and settled, no gales to strip those beautiful autumn leaves from their branches, no lashing rains, no snow (yet!) which sometimes makes an appearance here in the High Peak before December. The mood is mellow. The colours are divine. The skies have been blue as well as grey. There is a milky quality to the light which is washing the views with a soft, ethereal filter - and all is emotionally quiet in my world. Could this be the ‘calm before the storm’? Or is the 7-year cycle now complete?</p><p>There are seven days in the week and, for those who know anything about the Bible, God rested on the Seventh Day (Sunday, Day of Rest). The 7-year itch is well-known for people calling for change in relationships. Seven is also considered a lucky number in games of chance. So, it seems there may be some significance in this number after all and perhaps that is why, in November 2021, I am having my Year of Rest. Oil has been poured on troubled waters in this seventh year, and I can only hope that a new cycle is beginning of greater peace and calm in this strangely elusive month, somehow trapped between Autumn and Winter and never quite knowing which personality to express. </p><p style="text-align: center;">********</p><p style="text-align: left;">And so I move, gently, to the Act of Remembrance. This year the powerful, essential 2-minute silence which I yearn to respect every 11th November and Remembrance Sunday, even more so since my father suffered during this time, has eluded me. It is the moment when the world should stop and reflect on what the human race is capable of creating - both the horrors of war or the beauty of love. It is time to remember those that we have lost, to pay them our respects and to pray silently that there is still hope for humanity, that we learn our lessons and that we grow in wisdom from them. I was in a yoga class with a broken clock on 11th November - I dropped a hint that we could take two minutes at 11am but the penny didn’t drop with the teacher, so I thought my own private thoughts while the pose was being taught. And on Remembrance Sunday I was in a park in Newcastle following E’s graduation, desperately trying to find a quiet spot where no dog walkers, runners or people would disturb me. I found a stone bridge and a view but as the clock turned to 11am a young family came by discussing swimming lessons rather loudly, and shouting excitedly to each other! It was a battle to contain my thoughts, but at least I’d tried. In the afternoon we managed to get to the cathedral and I was finally able to sit quietly and reflect, listening to the music of Evensong as the beautiful voices of the choir soared in the majesty of this place of worship. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5gE1Lbv00Supu2X0J-wL_rsswLDTx_3SxfSbWunpTdaX6ZiRkEykRpWpQGsop26jAFRnXNJtDPXMhIAPEtBqx-NNiOqlMapA3cj78UJG4QdQJBEcIFcQvCtR5zzr2BD_-Dyol3Efy7rRP/s2048/78AC763F-3CCC-4513-84A2-06AD095A654F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5gE1Lbv00Supu2X0J-wL_rsswLDTx_3SxfSbWunpTdaX6ZiRkEykRpWpQGsop26jAFRnXNJtDPXMhIAPEtBqx-NNiOqlMapA3cj78UJG4QdQJBEcIFcQvCtR5zzr2BD_-Dyol3Efy7rRP/w480-h640/78AC763F-3CCC-4513-84A2-06AD095A654F.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Evensong at Newcastle Cathedral</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">Fittingly, I would like now to share with you a poem written by my Great Great Uncle on my mother’s side, The Very Reverend Frederick Edwards. He emigrated to the USA as a teenager and stayed there for the rest of his life. A scientist and an artist, a notable orator, and an eminent priest his last position being Dean of St Paul’s Cathedral, Detroit, as well as special evening preacher at Grace Church, New York City. He wrote a six-volume collection of poems called The Natural Year which reflected his love of botany, nature and his birthplace. I would like to share with you his poem for Armistice Day, 11th November 2018, which came just a month and few days after his beloved only son, Trevenen, was mortally wounded in action on 5th October in Montfaucon, France, dying from his wounds a day later. </p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>ARMISTICE DAY</b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Detroit, November 11, 1918</b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>The city is blasting with colours and bands</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>And troops in their martial array, </i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>To crashing and cheering and waving of hands,</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Parade - but our hearts are away</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>On the long battle line, in the places now still,</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Where they came to the end of the quest;</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>And the little flags flutter and fall on the hill</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>And the plain, where their bodies now rest.</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>So late all was rocking and roaring with shell,</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>While the air squadrons fought overhead,</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>And men in their loyalty battled and fell,</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>And now, it is quiet with dead.</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>And there are the lonelier wastes of the sea,</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Patrolled in the storm and the night,</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Where the waters have covered a service that we</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>May honour but never requite.</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>The church bells are ringing the war to its close,</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>The fires of thanksgiving burn;</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>But our hearts are away, in the vigil with those,</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Who went and will never return.</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">I wish I had discovered this poem when we were organising my father’s funeral. He was profoundly moved and scarred by the horrors of war which he had witnessed while living on the front line in Brighton as a boy. There was a certain circularity in the timing of his death and this poem would have been perfect in so many ways as a mark of respect for the man I still miss so deeply too.</p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-81596092357869943212021-10-30T20:15:00.003+01:002021-10-30T20:17:46.785+01:00New Post over at The Gardening Habit<p>I have neglected my little gardening blog for far too long now, so today I sought to rectify the situation by reflecting on the changing season and the mixture of success and failure that gardeners are all too familiar with. </p><p>The link is below - I hope you enjoy it. 💚</p><p>Have a lovely rest of weekend and I hope you manage to get outside, even if you don’t do any gardening!</p><p></p><p><a href="https://thegardeninghabit.blogspot.com/2021/10/the-ups-and-downs-of-gardening.html" target="_blank">https://thegardeninghabit.blogspot.com/2021/10/the-ups-and-downs-of-gardening.html</a><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-45208431240262894762021-09-28T19:44:00.000+01:002021-09-28T19:44:35.020+01:00Covid-19, A Rural Diary - Searching for Summer - Part 1<p>As the rains come down once more and the nights grow shorter and chillier, I am reminded how fleeting our British summers are and how so often they disappoint. Last year was an exception - endless days of sunshine amidst the darkness and despair; this year was not. We were back to the usual snatches of summer amongst seemingly endless grey and cool. No consistency, no settling into a rhythm. You grabbed the sun where you could - eating outside, going for a dip, hanging out washing - but most of the time it was dreary and spirit-crushing.</p><p>Much as I wanted to enjoy the undoubted beauty of this coastal Kingdom of ours, I had an equal need to escape the prison that this land has become in recent times. And, overcrowded as we are, with the complications of delayed holidays and celebrations due to Covid, attempting to find anywhere to stay had also become like hunting for hen’s teeth. Instead we bit the Covid bullet and attempted to negotiate the minefield that our Government had created to get out of gaol. The stress of wading through and understanding the ‘traffic light’ system and all the new rules and regulations for travel abroad for a family of five, all of us with different vaccination status, was almost not worth the effort. Let alone the cost. My husband bore the brunt of it and at one point the holiday we had dreamed of in April was cancelled as we couldn’t face all the logistics, extra costs and travel uncertainties which were involved. Then we were told we wouldn’t get our (substantial) deposit back on the sailing boat we’d hired so in the end we decided it was the lesser of two evils to go than stay and, anyway, we couldn’t find anywhere else in a ‘green country’ (let alone our own country) either sensibly priced or available in the midst of the school summer holidays. And so we scrabbled around at the last minute, filled in a thousand online forms, rearranged airlines and flights, queued for vaccinations in London, sorted our domestic arrangements and managed - just - to get everything together to fly out to Corfu in late July. </p><p>Contrary to expectations the journey out was exemplary. No queues at Check-In, lots of smiley staff - even at security! - and generally a very pleasant experience compared to the normal horrors of modern-day air travel. We arrived at our hotel at 11pm and squeaked a drink in before the poolside bar closed, breathing a sigh of relief and relaxing in the warm air to the sound of the cicadas. We had made it. We had escaped the dreary UK. We had jumped every hurdle put in our way. We were finally on holiday!</p><p>And boy, was it hot! I can’t complain because that was what we had been looking for - but a heatwave hit both home and abroad and even being on a boat surrounded by sea didn’t seem to stop me getting frequent heatstroke! I have clearly lived in the north of England for too many years now and my blood has thickened! Gone are the days where I swanned around Milan in 40 degrees hardly batting an eyelid in an apartment with no air-conditioning beyond open windows! No, I am clearly getting old and found myself complaining and huffing and puffing like my mother. Oh dear! </p><p>But heatstroke aside, how lovely it was to be surrounded by a deep blue ocean and clear blue skies for seven days; to be together as a family enjoying the simple pleasures of a vessel powered by wind, of jumping off the back to swim around in cool waters and of sitting in a traditional Greek taverna sampling home-cooked food with a backdrop of masts, olive trees and moonlight. </p><p>After a week of so much endless blue before the eyes, it was quite a shock to come home and see green and grey once more. I don’t think I have returned from any holiday and noticed it quite as much as I did from this one. The contrasts in light and colour were phenomenal and it took me a good few days to adjust my vision from something so light-filled and blue to something so lightless and grey-green. Normally I adore the green of the beautiful nature which undoubtedly surrounds us here, but without a blue sky to illuminate it, I felt deflated and lacking in energy once more. So was it worth the effort of getting away? Yes, quite simply, it was. And I know how lucky I am. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_IEKSYgsDBjLbuVDeR5M9X2Ji91kjg_hDLkXQHlpQximoAhlwklS5cBiJinaT6D3z6bopDA2IVslbnQzbhQPgQvFKdUlETAWOQgnFKb5l0IN82yEC6JPOWAI9pwD4En3vFtq7GLg5rBSr/s2048/DD4E7091-785A-4F59-8894-253DD967ED5E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_IEKSYgsDBjLbuVDeR5M9X2Ji91kjg_hDLkXQHlpQximoAhlwklS5cBiJinaT6D3z6bopDA2IVslbnQzbhQPgQvFKdUlETAWOQgnFKb5l0IN82yEC6JPOWAI9pwD4En3vFtq7GLg5rBSr/w480-h640/DD4E7091-785A-4F59-8894-253DD967ED5E.jpeg" width="480" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXn5rwoqV4MFIbWWlv5oVtINjoXHb-SiAR1jCRsZtzcRkvpTxIvUnoExAvSMGqaEAetUiL9028Fz_1EaxcQAja3cN1cex0j4CtpezlnYD6s9BNQcVUFBoxpHLnf5DqAXDGK9bqZWQmXKyy/s2048/02D071C0-5A4D-4D9F-AA1E-DE035716F66F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9kIf6AEebAIj_7XkiWrcKnHDVFpXOifjJEjO0Xir1JdPs3ozG7fzUld16nIiMIbMk9Zf9DzdIGlRBJSSLfqdVKe5xKvHuTg604cCiYcOmKFbmZjZrpp77E26xEvprOj9IzhP7-sVvGox/s2048/EE2E01D5-4DEC-4D2E-AA3A-B6A35D2B24F3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9kIf6AEebAIj_7XkiWrcKnHDVFpXOifjJEjO0Xir1JdPs3ozG7fzUld16nIiMIbMk9Zf9DzdIGlRBJSSLfqdVKe5xKvHuTg604cCiYcOmKFbmZjZrpp77E26xEvprOj9IzhP7-sVvGox/w480-h640/EE2E01D5-4DEC-4D2E-AA3A-B6A35D2B24F3.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-3045475790036678892021-09-19T23:32:00.001+01:002021-09-19T23:54:39.480+01:00Discussing the Nature and Science of Healing <p>I’ve published a new blog post over on <a href="https://thehealinghabit.blogspot.com/?m=1" target="_blank">The Healing Habit</a> discussing the nature and science of healing. You can find it <a href="https://thehealinghabit.blogspot.com/2021/08/a-discussion-on-nature-and-science-of.html?m=1" target="_blank">here</a>. </p><p>I find it quite hard to explain the field I’m working in and researching but I hope you will read it with an open mind and find it thought-provoking if nothing else! </p><p><br /></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-19048008943420574902021-07-23T12:05:00.001+01:002021-07-23T12:19:57.987+01:00Covid-19 - A Rural Diary - Me and My Dog: Reflections from a Country Lane<p>It is a very hot day here in the High Peak and I’ve just been wandering the lanes of the valley having popped a couple of birthday cards and a thank you note in the village post box. It is right next to the village pub which was doing a good trade, as you can imagine. Yet for once I turned my back on the tempting scene of light conversation, cool beers and summer attire. Instead I parked up beyond the village school as I used to when my own three daughters were infants and I would come and pick them up after their days of learning and play. The ghosts of their young selves were with me as I wandered along the hot, sun-dappled lane with Lily dog. We used to come along here when they were learning to ride their bikes, little pink ones with white wheels, wonky stabilisers and shiny taffeta tumbling from the ends of the handlebars. Oh so girlie! We also had the inevitable 3-wheel scooters at some point, branded with some TV character or other which I’ve long since forgotten. Teletubbies and Tweenies is about as far as my memory goes, they being their favourites when they were tiny. If they were here with me now we could reminisce and they would remind me, but I am alone as they are all grown up and doing their own things, no longer needing a mother to hold their hands every step of the way….</p><p>Yet I am not sad. I am happy. I walk along the lane I have gone down so many times before and I remember the time my youngest came down the hill and round a corner on one of those bikes I’ve just described. She says how she remembers the handlebars starting to wobble and getting worse and worse until she lost control and fell off. It all happened in slow motion for me - horrific images of those skinny little legs getting all caught up in the wheels and bones snapping in all directions. Mercifully this did not come to pass. We had bad cuts and bruises and dented pride but nothing that couldn’t be fixed back home in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a biscuit. She was recalling this with me just the other day. If you have shared memories, you are never truly alone, are you?</p><p>And so I continued with my reflections along the lane, past the house where the old man once lived who is now long gone and the bench that was erected for his partner, Gwyneth, who passed before him. Someone has been tending to the pots and it was looking very loved in the sunshine. A happy place, not a sad place. A perfect place to stop and gaze and contemplate.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdsgCj9gpcscH6h2s1aODCffrwUEe1-nTqCQ7rtD9eyDn0Gxkw-2fZrBOywAfY5dZY0OAGXtPJhoSA9PoLfNNn3lSibYZWGbQxnTTLuRHMJ6aFSV3ebIM07SvxKPxqmQM4dlrW-xNKDoaD/s2048/29785890-BE65-40F6-9BF0-054C647CCED0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdsgCj9gpcscH6h2s1aODCffrwUEe1-nTqCQ7rtD9eyDn0Gxkw-2fZrBOywAfY5dZY0OAGXtPJhoSA9PoLfNNn3lSibYZWGbQxnTTLuRHMJ6aFSV3ebIM07SvxKPxqmQM4dlrW-xNKDoaD/w640-h480/29785890-BE65-40F6-9BF0-054C647CCED0.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p>I took a photo of the hedgerow flowers and gazed across myself at the vista of the majestic steep sided slopes of the Moss which encircles the valley, my eyes sweeping up to it through the holm oaks, across the fields of cows and sheep and beyond the farms with their golden hay stacks - the perfect embodiment of an English rural landscape. I was thinking of how the gamekeeper roams and tends the high moorland long before and after folk are awake, in darkness and in all winds and weathers. It is a place he loves more than he can express and I can imagine why. It must be magnificent. Just you, nature and views for miles. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7edBYR1rGrCjjov3xUTsBP9XYmS1_Opgre8iKrDdoYAWouEbKBpvuvq7zbjAB9ks36Qrbe8llLv6AwnWWx45Y2ws1xxD8GFu3cMK_BfAOEc1_AgJaE7jD6ErVNMVSHPk7O08gq6PBz9S9/s2048/BD358999-70AD-4048-9AAA-36F9EB1C259C.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7edBYR1rGrCjjov3xUTsBP9XYmS1_Opgre8iKrDdoYAWouEbKBpvuvq7zbjAB9ks36Qrbe8llLv6AwnWWx45Y2ws1xxD8GFu3cMK_BfAOEc1_AgJaE7jD6ErVNMVSHPk7O08gq6PBz9S9/w480-h640/BD358999-70AD-4048-9AAA-36F9EB1C259C.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><p>As I continued on my way, I couldn’t help pausing by the latest house to be renovated along this stretch. People come and people go. The houses stand firm on the same plot as they have for decades, but the occupants change, each making adjustments to the place they call home. The new owners of this one are horticulturists and I can’t help but envy the beauty of their newly created vegetable garden. Everything is flourishing and well-tended - cabbages, peas, runner beans, kale and so much else. It all looks beautiful. I can’t help thinking of my own plot which I have worked so hard at but never seems to produce anything much beyond berries (which I have to fight the birds and mice for). I am higher up the hillside with less sun, but I feel I should be able to crack it. I must try harder, clearly!</p><p>And so I came to the corner where my youngest fell off her bike. It is here that I climb over the stile and into the field, a pheasant squawks and runs out from the undergrowth and sheep scatter, complaining loudly at the intrusion. The stream, my destination, is tinkling away as I cross over the little wooden bridge. Lily stops to cool down, the object of my walk today - for her and for me. It has been so very hot this week. I fancied a little paddle, a moment in the sunshine on the banks of a stream in perfect isolation. The stream where I used to take my girls all those years ago when life was sweet and simple. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHEv3XJUGiW4wdMpW4nU7G_2IZUlQejADem11sDhhkeJ-h_qXMDpYw5u5jg1jlj3SyQQ0afADye56xWRJ085ZXqAczmVHMmAQ9Qxo83w5AkWrD7fFYxcxTDrrllLLCaUax7dZ3JSP8SMC/s2048/0DEA8164-997F-414F-BC07-EAE1A78C09A1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHEv3XJUGiW4wdMpW4nU7G_2IZUlQejADem11sDhhkeJ-h_qXMDpYw5u5jg1jlj3SyQQ0afADye56xWRJ085ZXqAczmVHMmAQ9Qxo83w5AkWrD7fFYxcxTDrrllLLCaUax7dZ3JSP8SMC/w480-h640/0DEA8164-997F-414F-BC07-EAE1A78C09A1.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxfNoUBIB2sa2Q_Xg31XaF1rbthzXZGXZc7n4FZ9SGaUdxb3N4HcpwLtqnbiAw91RR7dC3Vxw5YWSsl9r148_QtY_9WR8OteG5z16a2mj95PLbFOq_QmJqPIuMlqvnCnXhDr9z0A95KpwG/s2048/814FBBF9-C268-4DA9-8F01-129565A2E07C.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxfNoUBIB2sa2Q_Xg31XaF1rbthzXZGXZc7n4FZ9SGaUdxb3N4HcpwLtqnbiAw91RR7dC3Vxw5YWSsl9r148_QtY_9WR8OteG5z16a2mj95PLbFOq_QmJqPIuMlqvnCnXhDr9z0A95KpwG/w480-h640/814FBBF9-C268-4DA9-8F01-129565A2E07C.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><p>There is nothing like plunging hot feet into cool fresh water, is there? I went to the bit where we always used to paddle and found a perfect pool right by the bank where I could sit with my feet submerged while Lily panted in the shade amongst the tall grasses of midsummer. The stream tinkled over the stones and continued on its way, meandering down through the village until, now dammed, it flows into the reservoir. Kingfishers have been spotted, but I have never seen one. Maybe one day. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qNHcgdXJMz7r8HVLDWDKN5RlG7oLRwINrKtF-eDdNcB_dng38cZr3LWGOurosagQXRUazAc-gNt9ol8S_l5YF2Pyl-rFat0QEc0JaLX72h7a7tYuVwwUzkZm-LIilai7oid97SqNmg69/s2048/6724488F-D2DB-4DD8-849F-F0A13D064801.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qNHcgdXJMz7r8HVLDWDKN5RlG7oLRwINrKtF-eDdNcB_dng38cZr3LWGOurosagQXRUazAc-gNt9ol8S_l5YF2Pyl-rFat0QEc0JaLX72h7a7tYuVwwUzkZm-LIilai7oid97SqNmg69/w480-h640/6724488F-D2DB-4DD8-849F-F0A13D064801.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><p>I let time slip by until I was ready to walk back along the lane. A stepped aside to let an old tractor pass and waved at the occupant, a long-time resident of the village, and then a car passed with another elder of the farming community to whom I also waved as his little dog popped his head above the open window. The owners of the vegetable patch were sitting at a large round table in dappled shade in their garden, a horse popped its head over a gate to greet me while its foal lay dozing behind her. I stroked her long nose and soft muzzle and had a quiet chat as the flies buzzed annoyingly around her eyelashes. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBr_DpYv95tu167V-flkMIlZs6YyM7EQCr3wmHwz3dcMj4pP7W-y1WxiUcczHl50c5RKYbw4c1AKD104GKQgO163zlEc5a0Tkdm11a6oJ3o8vTCGCQAiW0v7t02V8gcuRQkNmdgBi9p_Z/s2048/C3C5EF7A-388E-4D3D-AF82-96DDBD708CE5.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBr_DpYv95tu167V-flkMIlZs6YyM7EQCr3wmHwz3dcMj4pP7W-y1WxiUcczHl50c5RKYbw4c1AKD104GKQgO163zlEc5a0Tkdm11a6oJ3o8vTCGCQAiW0v7t02V8gcuRQkNmdgBi9p_Z/w480-h640/C3C5EF7A-388E-4D3D-AF82-96DDBD708CE5.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><p>And so back to the car and home, resisting once more the temptation of a cold beer in the sunshine at the pub even as I paused for a quick chat with a friend doing just that! No, I have things to do. We are going away tomorrow and I was happy being just me and my dog. The rest of my family have been out all day - two with former workmates in Manchester enjoying long summer lunches; another with friends cooling herself at a local beauty spot and then to the pub; and another travelling up from London by train. I relish my time alone, but it’s always good to know the family’s coming home.</p><p><br /></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197429752310795554.post-44909187498976613142021-05-17T19:23:00.004+01:002021-05-22T00:53:51.015+01:00Covid-19, A Rural Diary - A Sense of Ennui <p><b><i><u>May 2021</u></i></b></p><p>I don’t know about you, but I have really been struggling of late. I am fed up with everything. I have no energy and no motivation. It is almost as if I have given up. </p><p>This last year of dealing with the pandemic has been tough for us all - in many different ways depending on our age, our work, or our situation. </p><p>This latest Lockdown though has been particularly testing. In the first it was all new and we were prepared to do anything we could for the greater good - and it was Spring with Summer ahead and the most amazing weather and (I hardly dare say it), it felt like a bit of a holiday, a relief to have no social obligations, an empty diary, an excuse to stay at home. In the second Lockdown in the autumn, there was still some energy left from the brief summer of greater freedoms which got us through - but the post-Christmas third Lockdown has proved quite another story. </p><p>The dark nights meant we could crack on with long-overdue tasks, or learning or DIY. Maybe you even managed to read War & Peace with all that spare time?! But now, here we are in May with the weather still cold and crappy, a hideous limbo-land between May 17th partial de-regulation and June 21st full (we hope) de-regulation. We have carrots dangling in front of us, but we are still dragging chains. And, frankly, I have lost the will. I am tired. I am listless. I do not want to plan anything escapist or joyous as so much is still up in the air. And I’m not sure I can be bothered anyway.</p><p>I lay in bed the other morning, having no particular reason to get up, attempting to evaluate whether I have tipped into another depression or not, and felt obliged to come to the conclusion that I am in fact far more likely suffering from that state of <i>Ennui</i> which has so often been written about in French and English literature. It is not a clinical depression. It is not even just a low mood. It is something much more simple, and yet much more complex, embodying feelings of malaise, world-weariness, boredom, lassitude, melancholy and alienation. </p><p>The state of <i>Ennui</i> has been much studied in Western literature throughout the ages. From the ancients to medieval French poets and troubadours, through to the ‘mal du siecle’ of the late 19th century which described it thus:-</p><p><i>‘Mal du Siecle is a mood of melancholy and pessimism associated with the poets of the Romantic era that arose from their refusal or inability to adjust to those realities of the world that they saw as destructive of their right to subjectivity and personal freedom.’</i></p><p>Is this not where we’re at? We have been denied so many personal freedoms, so many personal choices and bullied into being afraid to offer up a contrary opinion. It may be for the greater Covid good, in theory, but in practice, what is the collateral damage?</p><p>In 20th century literature, the same sense of Ennui took on an added meaning of alienation, or existential angst, a theme explored in the iconic book ‘L’Etranger’ (The Outsider) by Alfred Camus. Our incarceration has deprived us of so much social interaction which is key to the essence of Mankind that we have had our emotions muted, just like Camus’ protagonist - watching life from the sidelines, rarely truly engaging anymore. </p><p>So as I lay in my bed considering what my life has come to with children having fled the nest, a husband now retired (and who can’t currently do anything due to a triple hernia op and now a cracked rib!) and nowhere to go beyond the supermarket and the four walls of my house, I felt Ennui aptly described my state of being. And the longer the restrictions have gone on, the less I have filled my days with. Everything is taking ten times longer or, rather, I have no deadlines so time has become elastic and meaningless. I am desperate to have something to look forward to, and yet with so much uncertainty still around the basics of our ‘old’ ways of life, I do not want to waste mental and physical time on planning nice things, only to have my hopes dashed at the last minute. The opening up once more of outside eating was a small blessing - but one that came with so many displeasures due to masks, distancing, booking and bad weather that it was quickly dismissed again as ‘not worth the hassle’. And even when we can eat inside once more, we will still be dealing with masks, hand-sanitisers, queues and social distancing. Who needs it? </p><p>And so we languish, as has been much discussed recently in the British press. We are languishing in our personal prison cells, reluctant now that freedom is beckoning, actually to poke our heads out of our caves - like the bear pit at the zoo you watched for hours as a kid, hoping one might actually appear. It never did. </p><p>After a year of incarceration, even I, so full of energy at the beginning, have given up. Have I become institutionalised? Am I suicidal? No, I am not. But too many are, I fear. It is going to be a long, hard road to pull people back from this emotional and mental brink. It is the collateral damage of Covid. A whole new battle has only just begun. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ytDCqrLuH7g4GbX9KaHOA5B4LOEGpP7SBrjoq6poTVcWlK_o2acR9AT_7wUR1Snh9YG1bwQ2m95pAInpbVcfNOwFPX3nhJcTjd4Dzoj6SaDzuwzYO0JvptguSDIj2bKIGLERcQf9o0Fr/s2048/643F5220-DB74-44AD-8BA7-FF7156F311B7.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1497" data-original-width="2048" height="468" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ytDCqrLuH7g4GbX9KaHOA5B4LOEGpP7SBrjoq6poTVcWlK_o2acR9AT_7wUR1Snh9YG1bwQ2m95pAInpbVcfNOwFPX3nhJcTjd4Dzoj6SaDzuwzYO0JvptguSDIj2bKIGLERcQf9o0Fr/w640-h468/643F5220-DB74-44AD-8BA7-FF7156F311B7.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Carah Bodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11429666157453439321noreply@blogger.com7