A taste of Italy

Last night I revisited the streets of Rome with Julia Roberts in Eat, Pray, Love. It took me back a few years to what was my son's best holiday ever. Well, what's not to like when you are 7 years old - pizza, pasta, the best ice cream in the world and adults running after you to pinch your cheeks and call you trezorro.

Italy is such a sensual place - the smells, sights, sounds, tastes make an indelible print on your memory. As Julia Roberts' character, Liz wanders through the cobblestoned streets and ancient ruins, I found myself transported back. I could feel the July heat and recognised the street taps, which must surely have been there since the days of the Romans, where my son stopped to stick his head under the cold water flowing from the bowels of the earth. The old buildings with solid doors that look like they can withstand battering rams, the flower boxes spilling geraniums outside every window and the fountains with ornate statues inviting you to make a wish, all form part of the charm. 

We travelled the length of Italy by train – Venice, Rome, Naples, Milan and ended our journey in a villa just outside of Florence, the perfect place to take time to allow all we had experienced to settle down  deep. The rolling vineyards, the beautiful sunshine, plenty of space to run around and a pool to cool off in – these were all the right ingredients. And if we wanted to exert ourselves, the museums were a short trip away. One day we came back to a feast prepared by our kids who had joined the chef in the kitchen and helped produce lunch brimming with goodness. 

But back to the movie last night - one of my favourite scenes is the one in the barber shop where Luca Spaghetti explains the concept of "il bel far niente" - the beauty of doing nothing and the simple pleasure of being. They do seem to have it down to an art - the way they speak, eat, live and enjoy the fine things in life. It has always amazed me how the chaos of Italy (the strikes, the mafia, the politics, etc) seems to go right over the heads of the people while they enjoy the good life. And if you think about it, there are many good things that come out of Italy - cars, bags, shoes, clothes, food, music, art, ice cream... The whole concept of  deserving pleasure seems bred into the bones of Italians, whereas we need to go to therapy to feel that we are worthy! I read once that Freud's theories never took off with the Italians - they don't repress anything so they don't need psychoanalysis.

Like all movies, it veered off the story in the book, but it was a real "feel-good" experience. The "Pray" and "Love" part of the story is subject for another blog ... I am still revelling in la dolce vita.