When the sun is setting, between dusk and darkness, there is a moment when the light turns blue. And the world stops for a heartbeat.
Rome is city with over 900 churhes, 200 flavors of gelato and 3000 years of art. It’s a city where a city gate designed by Bernini isn’t necessarily even mentioned in the guidebook. It is hot, crowded, expensive and chaotic. It is breathtaking.
Holiday. Rome.
Due to my connection in Zurich, the flight took me over the Alps. A majestic sight from any angle.
I’m cheating here a little again. I only saw the Alps on Saturday morning… However, as I started to travel on Friday, I think it still counts as the same day.
My breakfast during the week does not vary much. I’m fond of some Finncrisp (dried rye bread) and fruit (the type of fruit varies tho) – as simple and easy as it gets. However, as I saw these bake-in-a-mug breakfast muffins, I was unable to resist. And I’m glad I didn’t. It was delicious!
About the maximum amount of cooking I can fit to a weekday morning.
In winter it does not rain for 6 months in Johannesburg (Or at least it shouldn’t…). This means that by mid-winter, it is dry. And dryness inevitably means grass fires – some natural, but most of them not.
I continue to be puzzled on how casually South Africans treat these small fires. As long as they are under control, they are left to burn. For example, there was a small tuft burning in the neighbourhood park. The first time I saw it, there was a park maintenance team standing next to it, but after careful consideration they left it to burn. It was still smouldering the next day (unless somehow there was a second, unrelated fire at the exact same spot.
The Hadida found it quite worrying, tho. Although a little less worrying than a little puppy charging him from behind.
Unlike Venice or even Paris, Rome has the feel of everyday life everywhere. Even in the most touristy center, tucked in the narrow lane between two monuments is someone’s laundry drying from the window, and someone’s grandmother keeping a careful eye of the comings and goings on her street. The pulse of real Rome.
Note the grandmother of the street on the right…
I am a highly unorganised person. If you don’t believe me, ask anyone who has ever spent longer intensive periods of time with me. Through years of practise, I have learned to maintain a resemblance of order, especially in public. At work, I have even been complemented as highly organised (shows you how easily people can be fooled…). But inevitably the facade always comes crashing down and I lose the plot. I try to do this when I’m alone and have time to sort out the mess.
The only exception for the rule is cooking. I am an organised cook – I plan the process ahead, get ingredients out and measure things ready. I even make sure I chop everything I will not have time to chop during the cooking process. I often wish I could bring this attitude more into the rest of my life.
Stuart wishes it too.
I love plants and flowers, but I have no green thumb. I have managed to kill a cactus. Twice. (and one of those times I over-watered it) Luckily the previous owners of our house created a garden that is full of blooms year round – and seems to require very little beyond basic maintenance. And Stuarts helps to solve the rest of the problem by buying me cut flowers often. They are expected to last only a limited time.
Having a puppy means you spend a lot of time in parks. A lot of time. But when the sun is shining and the sky is blue, there are not many nicer places to be.
In the past, a big portion of social life in Johannesburg has revolved around shopping malls. The security issue in South Africa has made it difficult to create a ‘street culture’ worth mentioning. Thus it has been such a pleasure to see how there has been more and more interesting neighbourhoods and outside restaurant popping up in the past 2 years. Security is still an issue, but people find ways around it. And that leaves shopping malls for what they are good for – shopping.
I think i said it earlier – naartjies are my favourite fruits. Luckily they are in season three times a year. (Fresh does not always mean green…) For today’s photo I wanted to play around with the idea of stored vs. fresh food. Some difference.
Blue Moment 