Precious Time
We are on a family holiday in Italy, after a short stop in London. We love London with all its history and tradition but coming to Italy is like coming home. I don’t think there is a place quite like it anywhere else in the world.
It never ceases to amaze me how a country the size of my home state of Victoria, with a population of over 60 million people, can have so much to offer. If you drill down into north and south, it is vastly different, from its architecture to its food. Drill down even further into regions, you will experience a different language and customs, and if you go even further, each individual town has its own unique flavour.
But something that strikes me the most about Italy is that no one ever seems to be in a hurry. They tell you they are and they always have ‘stuff’ to do, but frankly, compared to the lifestyle we live in Australia, I can’t see it.
And I find myself wondering why that is and how I can get some of that.
A couple of hours from the French border are the spectacular small towns of Santa Margherita and Portofino. Whilst the towns are small in area, they are big in beauty. The views along the coastline are to die for and the distinct coloured buildings add character and charm to the landscape. The detail in every piece of architecture appears to be so well thought out and perfectly positioned. Often known as the playground of the rich and famous, we were grateful to experience this area albeit for a few days from our quaint little centrally located apartment.
One thing I love about being in Italy is the opportunity to live like a local. Each morning, we woke to the chimes of the church bells, whose role is to remind you each half hour that a half hour has passed.
We stroll leisurely out of our apartment while the kids still sleep and take a short walk into the piazza where the locals prepare to start the day. The sun releases its splendour as the magazine stand opens his partitions to welcome the new day. Across from him, the fruit and vegetable store sets up produce with enormous pride; each item beautifully displayed and grown to perfection. The sign clearly stating “it is forbidden to touch the merchandise”. Further evidence of Italian’s love affair with food. Food is sacred…and reigns supreme over all else. Something I am afraid my hips will provide further evidence of.
Breakfast consists daily of a cappuccino and a custard filled croissant. How do Italian’s get away with this? Well, you know what they say…. when in Rome.
As we sit outside the café, hubby reads the paper, and I look around at the locals going about their business and soak up the atmosphere. The streets are fairly bare at this hour but the dark green wooden shutters of the apartments begin to open, with locals taking a peak outside as a way of finding out what’s going on. What will the talk of the town be today? No need for social media around here, the socials are posted on the narrow streets where conversation can easily be heard by the people living nearby. The walls are thin. There are no secrets in a small town.
I love the fact that I can fly under the radar. When it suits me, I can be an English speaking tourist. It’s amazing what you overhear when people think you can’t understand. I am privileged, however, to be fluent in Italian; something I can thank my parents, my teachers and my husband for. I can therefore tune in and out as I please, often to the bewilderment of the locals who are curious to know where I am from when I sound ‘not quite like a local’ but too good to be a foreigner…
And in a small town where everyone needs to know, they are relentless in their pursuit for information.
Once the hustle and bustle of the morning is over, it’s time for lunch; the most important time of the day. And once lunch is over you can practically hear a pin drop as the town goes to sleep and so do the locals, literally.
With their stomachs full, it’s time for a nap. Funny things is…. you actually do feel sleepy at this time of the day…. but there is no time to waste when you are a traveller. So, down another espresso and off you go to explore to your heart’s content. The town is all yours (and that of other temporary visitors like you).
Before you know it, the clock strikes four in the afternoon and the church bells chime once again. The shops slowly begin to reopen; up above the shutters start to unfold and people spill out into the narrow streets.
The older folk can be found in the town piazza sharing stories with their mates while others sit around, window shop, eat gelato, drink coffee and pretty much live in the moment. Conversation is everywhere, everyone knows each other, gossip spreads like wild fire.
And then its ‘Aperitivo’ time. This is a bit like afternoon tea if you are English but a bit later in the day. Italians eat dinner around 9pm so let’s call this a late afternoon snack. The bars are full at this time. The Aperol Spritz and Campari are flowing, reflecting the colours of summer and providing some much needed refreshment and fuel to see you into the long night ahead. The waiter brings a platter of small Italian parcels of decadence to tide you over until it’s time for the evening feast. Now this is something I could get used to.
Time to get ready for dinner and choose which restaurant will we go to. There is no such thing as a bad meal in Italy; the range is from good to exceptional. Italians have an enormous respect for food, and as a result, the beauty is in its simplicity and flavour. The simplest things become the most memorable as there is no need to complicate something in order to enhance it. It’s perfect just the way it is!
Italy is a place of incredible natural beauty. Just like the Italian’s flair for fashion and food, beauty is found mostly in the things that are uncomplicated and untouched; the old ruins of castles, medieval palaces, antique houses and cobblestone roads. This flair is moulded into the DNA of the people here, passed down through the generations and evident in the treasures left for them by their ancestors and absolutely nailed by their confidence and self-awareness, which could easily be mistaken for arrogance and selfishness.
And what Italians do really well (which is not really helping their economy) is that they take TIME for themselves and they are not ashamed of doing so. They leave earlier for work just so they can spend a half hour at the bar having their coffee, cornetto (croissant filled with jam, custard or Nutella) and catch up with their mates. Same thing after work – a beer, a gelato or a prosecco before heading home to the family. Regardless of where they are during the day, they always sit down to enjoy their meal and coffee, and those who can, take their nap in the afternoon while the shops close for a few hours to honour this ritual.
Time is a precious resource, learning to use it wisely is often the key to living a much happier life. Not sure I could live quite like an Italian, but it’s fun while it lasts….