After a year-and-a-half of uninspired living in London, I have moved to Verona, Italy. There are many great things about Britain, but the constant grey and depressing weather eventually took their toll on me. The brown-brick buildings; the ever-insufficient footpaths replete with fast-moving pedestrians; the black stuff on your tissue when you blow your nose on the tube; the cold; the rain; the wind that renders your umbrella useless; and a lifestyle overflowing with all the things I would prefer to keep in my ‘seldom practiced’ basket (winter clothes in “summer”, the ever-present potato and thick-sliced bacon, and being the only sober person at the party, for example) finally turned me into a veritable malcontent. God bless you England, but I needed to get out!
I have to bring balance to the above by stating that I did love the parks, the politeness, the existence of the queue (Italy is yet to understand this concept), the Southbank, and mostly the free museums and galleries. When someone asked me what I would miss about London, I said, “My friends, and the National Gallery!” Some amazing pieces are there, and I could go and see them free of charge, as many times as I wanted. If I was meeting someone at Trafalgar Square, I’d often wander in for ten minutes to have a peek at my favourites… The Tailor by Moroni, The Boulevard Montmartre at Night by Pissarro, and everything by Canaletto!
In July I finished up my job as an Occupational Therapist at a swish private hospital in Harley Street and kissed my career and London goodbye. I went home to Melbourne for six weeks where there was more sun and blue sky (in winter) than I’d seen all summer in England! It was so refreshing to be home in the city that I still love the most.
I went to all my favourite coffee houses and laneways, visited my old regular haunts and walked along our Southbank. It doesn’t have the iconic landmarks that London’s Southbank is littered with, but it’s a really wonderful area of Melbourne. As I walked along the Yarra River, soaking in all the things I love about my hometown – every familiar building and every new development that I had never seen before – it was like someone had pulled out the defibrillator and stunned my heart back into action. I gazed down the river towards Flinders Street Station, inhaled deeply, emotionally, emphatically, and realised... I could breathe again.
Is good to read you again; I hope you could breathe even in one of our "grumo fluido" one day... or, maybe, for that time we will be able to do a proper queue; but is a big "maybe" :)
ReplyDeleteCiao Polideuce! Ma che intendi con "grumo fluido"? Non ho capito bene :p
ReplyDeleteScrivo in italiano perché in inglese potrei non trovare le parole giuste :)
ReplyDeleteUn grumo è una forma solida che si forma in un qualcosa di liquido che dovrebbe fluire o anche nella crema pasticcera, quando la farina si addensa e diventa complicato poi sciogliere i grumi; le nostre code sono un insieme di moltissimi grumi che, per una ragione imperscrutabile, si muovono comunque e quindi mantengono una certa fluidità.
Abbiamo fatto grandi progressi con l'adozione dei codometri :)
ahahaha ho capito... but you know, you have to be Italian in order succeed with that kind of "queue" otherwise you'll end up like me: last when you were there first!
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