Italian/Greek Odyssey

London

Murder in your street: if you have any details contact the police immediately. That was the first of 2 shocks since I’ve been back in London in an as many days. Then a stranger hands me a day paid transport ticket at 11am yesterday. I am reminded that London has a history of murderers and politeness. Working backwards my holiday ended in...

Venice

Sing, dance or swim my way through Venezia? Crossing the Grand Canal on a taxi, crammed into the space so that we are standing awkwardly, I decide definitely NOT to swim, partly from the funky smells. This is a city of masks and canals, romantic couples, wedding parties, and exorbitant food prices, a coffee on Piazza San Marco for €10. Vivaldi was born here and ode to his composing expertise, a performance of the Four Seasons is in order. What a good way to end my Italian/Greek Odyssey.

Bologna

The most amazing food ever, raw, processed or cooked. Photographing fruit and vegetables at the market was so fun, the brightest colours, juicy, plump, vibrant and fresh as ever. Who could have guessed Bolognese from Bologna? The cured meats were deluxe but my husband wasn’t too keen on Mortadella. Enjoyed an outdoor table where the vibrant waiter explained the difference between Tortellini and Tortelloni.

Florence

Firenze has shown me the famous perfect bodies of Michelangelo’s David and Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. Thank you Firenze! A walk up the hills reveals the romantic skyline and I am inspired by the artsy folk sketching at bridges, sculptures and inside galleries.

Pisa

Standing with my back to Pisa I gaze at the crowd, masses of people looking overbalanced with their compulsory leaning pose. Should I follow the trend and bow to peer pressure? Later on the other side of town a distressed, lost, French tourist stops me and exasperated at my inability to speak French gesticulates wildly asking “le torre, le torre”. The art here was the best: Joan Miro exhibition, wacky street murals and the giant Keith Haring public mural.

Sienna & Volterra

Transport me into a medieval world. Gazing up at the buildings on the Piazza fills me with wonder, dated from 1100 AD, I am awed by the history before me. In comparison, Volterra interests me for modern reasons. Scenes from New Moon, a love tale where Bella strives to save her soul mate Edward from exposing his true identity and sure death, excite my romantic side. In the freezing wind I walk in the footsteps of these novel characters.

Naples

Rubbish, stink and dog poo. And all I really wanted to meet was the godfather “leave the gun, take the cannelloni.” (Clemenza to Rocco in The Godfather) Highlights were... a trip to Pompeii & Vesuvius and another day away in Sorrento. Historic remains of a violent volcano and the latter a holiday town of cobbled streets and pretty boutiques.

Salerno

Bunny hopped my way to the Amalfi Coast after a delicious and cheap self service lunch of, as always, fresh, crunchy mozzarella and bruschetta. Lonely planet guides suggested a bus ride to/from Amalfi, part death defying- part hilarious with the constant honking.

Rome

History deluxe deluxe, even I needed a nap on the grass on the Palatine Hill, the archaeologist guide around the Coliseum adding a rich background and detail. Staying at Stella’s B&B supplied my Italian mamma. And the Italian(or German if you’re pedantic) papa, the Pope coincidentally was addressing the crowd as I neared the Vatican.

­Athens

This city contains the most amazing embassy ever, excellent service, where they replaced my stolen passport in 3 hours! The rocky outcrop beside the Acropolis where Paul preached to the Romans is free to visit and provided a peaceful moment after the turmoil of the last week.

Santorini

The sheer size of the Volcano is impossible to imagine until the enormous ferry sails through the caldera and I am totally stunned, and happy that there was no reawakening during my visit. No hope of survival against one of the world’s largest explosive volcanoes.

Ithaca

Due to a genealogical research project, a visit to the small island of just 3000 inhabitants is in order. Vathy, the capital, has a picturesque bay with a hotel on the water. I have this fantastic idea howsabout we hire a car and drive to the other villages, and then stop at the Odyssey Archaeological site and lock my bag in the car? Dumb dumb dumb, when returning to the car to notice the smashed glass, bag stolen with not only my purse and phone but my PASSPORT inside. Frantic I start yelling police (forgotten the Greek version already). I am impressed with the locals; they are helpful and caring even to a hysterical tourist. I now know the Ithacan police well and would visit this sleepy Island again...

­The beginning of my holiday as it starts in Athens recorded below.

­

Let the Parthenon Sculptures go!

First hours in Athens, and with excitement we explored along the city streets. A man shooting up in an alley and another exposing himself quickly brought my romantic view of things back to earth and revealed the darker side of city life.

Museums can be a chore if they involve work, but viewing the "mask of Argamemnon" and Linear B tablets were sheer delight as I retold the importance and meaning they had to me. Similarly watching the Parthenon lit up at night, from my dinner table inspired my love for History. Lord Elgin must have felt the same as he first gazed up at the friezes, sculptures and metopes that he then decided to "take" for safe keeping. With angry tones a tour guide mentioned the missing pieces now present in the British Museum.

Fresh figs and sweet yellow grapes were my choice of fast food. Greek sweet: Baklava was served in a door stopping wedge that I couldn't possibly finish, even when I did. Moussaka, Koupepia, Houlomi, Greek Salad, Kepab and Souvlaki were my ambitious olympic relay race.

Friendly and vivacious Athenians have welcomed me here.

Next to experience life outside of the city...

bleached and beached

Brilliant white clouds stare at me from outside my second storey window. It's squint-tastic out. A truely faded and washed-out day.

Is winter really back with a vengeance? I am sitting in my lounge room, with my overcoat on wondering what to do next. No agencies have called, so no work today. Shopping is an option, but do I really want to hit the town, without having earned anything for six weeks?

Greece and Italy are looking rosier and greener every moment. Lonely Planet guides call me from their pile beside the sofa. How about climbing to the awe aspiring acropolis or a vaporetto ride down the grand canal. I can't wait :)

These holidays have not been unfruitful, I have learned that:

Exploring London at dusk is amazing, especially from Tower Hill underground station, grab some grub and walk down to the water beside the Tower of London, on a beautiful clear day the sunset is amazing.

Dover is a delightful little place, and the chalky cliffs are quite impressive.

When booking tickets for the Globe Theatre, one can register as a Lord, Lady, Duchess, Princess etc., wonder if I will have to prove it when I collect those tickets!

In my home town

There's no place like home, no matter where I go, there's just something about Cape Town that draws me in and I struggle to escape it's clutches.

From visiting Lion's Head, Signal Hill and Table Mountain, to walking on the beach in Camps Bay and cafeing in Glen Cairn. My family try and entice me to remain. I cannot deny that the people here are absolutely amazing. Strangers help you and the camaraderie is unique, everyone is happy and greets you with a smile. The weather is absolutely fabulous, high twenties and it's WINTER!! Londoners eat your heart out.

But family and friends are my greatest magnet and when I'm here I am not sure how I coped without them at all.

ooooooo Jamie Oliver

White knuckled fists gripped my stomach. I awoke with groans and rumblings. But my memories of Jamie's Italian are completely pleasurable. Breakfast was almost forgotten because of the sheer quantity eaten last night.

Antipasto starter balanced on tomato tins filled the table's centre. Crusty breads dripping with sweet olive oil and balsamic along with large-creamy-fresh-green olives. Order something simple I repeat to myself and order a burger. Amazing tower of freshness and delicious flavours, I almost couldn't finish it, but determined to enjoy the last morsel I forced those last few bites. Dessert was more confusing, each option screamed to be chosen. But when the chocolate brownie arrived it was the envy of the table. Warm and moist, a crunchy amaretto dusted crust accompanied by bourbon vanilla ice cream.

Excellent.

So how are you really doing?

Since living in London, I have answered that question in a variety of ways: just fine, very well, enjoying it. So here's the whole truth.

Tonight I had a long bath. I read a book. I watched TV. In my home with frames and doors that hang at a slant, an inconsequential fireplace, windows that don't open and somewhat imperfectly finished.

Living in East London is mostly delightful, with cosmopolitan inhabitants, I'm always inhaling the sweet, spicy and fragrant, bubbling cooking. Although parks are few, they are well tended, especially suited to young children (of which I have none). There is a wealth of transport, buses on my doorstep (next street) and tube lines are in abundance (our favourite District Line is continually down).

Gazing at the sculptures and paintings at Tate Modern, exploring shopping wonders in Oxford Street, being part of the vibe in Hyde Park or visiting Greenwich and ferrying to London Eye never tires me. Central London has so much to offer that I soak in as much as possible as often as possible.

My pick of international airports Gatwick, Heathrow, Stansted, London City and Luton are at the ready to flutter me off to my next destination. I am looking forward to Greece and Italy...

Fault finding reminds me that going home to Australia is imminent but enjoying all the wonders is absolutely essential.

Growers Market in London

Fresh, raw milk, in its creamy, silky natural state. Thick globs of pure cream floats on my coffee and my five year-old self calling it icecream - so terribly naughty and wonderful. Freshly baked carrot cake and crispy crunchy organic apples.

Friendly faces and lovely, clean, pure air swirls around me as I walk through Marylebone Grower's Market. "I can choose my own eggs?" I ask the vendor, dumbfounded, and smile as I reach to choose gorgeous farm fresh chicken eggs and load my egg boxes. I go back for a second helping to the stall of baked items, then green salad items, watercress and spinach, aubergine, rosemary, leek, cucumber: grocery items deluxe.

I convince my husband to return with me every Sunday after that... I cannot imagine buying these items from a supermarket with its bright florescent lighting and isles of processed, packaged, chemically enhanced goods with it's magnitude of plastic, tin, cardboard and paper that will empty into my trash...