It’s funny that by the last day of a week  you are finally feeling comfortable and it’s time to stay goodbye. 

I can see why it’s better to come for two weeks to any language school! 

Anyway Adrian, Mr French teenager (permanently attached to his telefonata) and I had our last session. Mario the teacher was calm quiet, sweet and shy. He had no girlfriend he told me because he was waiting for the right girl to come along! Sweet. I bought him coffee today during our break. He was most appreciative. These little breaks are great. You get to go to a neighbouring cafe and enjoy a coffee. They encourage you to go so you can do the ordering etc and feel part of the local community. By the end of the week the people in the cafe know you and greet you with smiles and usually even remember your order. Probably to avoid having to wait patiently for each class member to get it out! 

We returned  to class and the second half is spent doing the last part of our serialised  story – in this case the final part of a mystery. All very exciting. 

We had just about finished when the school director Daniel (looks like italian Steve Martin)  and the school secretary (an adorable Brazilian girl called Simone) arrived in class to make a presentation. They gave me a certificate and a “piccolo regalo” – a little present of two locally made soaps all tied up with ribbon and flowers (Sanremo is known as the flower city). Such a lovely way to end.

Though it was not over yet. I had the afternoon booked to visit the Villa Nobel where Alfred Nobel lived and worked after he had blown up several other locations in Europe. 

But before that  I took a little visit to the post office to post a small box home – its always an  interesting experience in an Italian post office. This was no exception as the man behind the counter adopted me. I had forgotten to bring my passport so had to dash back to the apartment. When I returned he greeted me like an old friend but then it took a full 15 minutes to arrange it to be sent. And I had already completed all the paperwork. They almost had a whole file just on me by the time it was over. And I had a new friend. 

Finished the afternoon at the Villa which was interesting and then walked back along the waterfront and had a drink with Robert, the Austrian, to plan our trip on Sunday. Robert happens to be going to Cotignac where I and going to stay with the Brannocks so I’m going with him. Can’t believe how well it’s worked out. I was not looking forward to trains and changing trains on Monday. This way I arrive early – before the Brannocks, but I also have a day to explore and rest. I’m staying at a local B&B. 

Tomorrow last day in lovely Sanremo. 

Oh can you believe – while I’ve been typing this I have been watching the final episode of Junior Masterchef Australia! Dubbed in Italian! What a hoot! George sounds funny but not as silly as Mr Cravat Matt sounds. 

Last night I went to a cooking class at Zemin – an agritourismo in the town.

There were 5 of us. Lesley the German girl, Barbara also German, Roberto from Austria and a surprise – an Australian called Ryan. He turned up at the school as we were meeting up to leave.

He is an engineer on a boat in the harbour and is here for 2 months repairing and working on the boat. He’s been having private lessons to help him with his work.

He was very nice , the usual friendly outgoing Australian whose Italian was worse than mine.

We got to the next village and got out at the new station where a slim dark Italian man met us. This was Fabio son of La mama. He drove us up the hill and we drove down a narrow land lined with fruit trees and pulled outside a two story house with a lovely garden where a goat was grazing and the sided of the house had tiled tables, a bocce court, a small swimming pool an outdoor BBQ and a bar. It is an agritourismo, quite well know in this area I believe. 

Mama Lena made us very ŵelcome. She spoke no English but her eyes sparkled with good humour and we were ushered into her kitchen and made part of the family . She started with pesto, which  isn’t hard except this one was to be done fatto le mani  (by hand). Robert and Ryan (the Austrian and the Australian) offered to do this with the mortar and pestle. I got to start on the next job topping and tailing les fragoli ( beans) and the other girls peeled potatoes and sliced the biggest zucchini I’d ever seen on a mandolin. 

We made all the courses – but no meat tonight. We started with the fresh pesto on pane, then made spaghetti con fragoli potatoes and pesto. Then a vedura torta which had the sliced potatoes and zucchini onion and buffalo mozzarella . It was made in a cake tin in layers and baked. This was served with the caponata made with fried eggplant, onion, tomato, olives, capers and of course oil. It was delicious. Then we made a dolci with sultanas soaked in white rum, flour eggs, sugar etc. rolled into balls and baked. 

Ŵe all sat together in the dining room of the restaurant continuing to drink the wine we had  started  when we were cooking. It was a lovely evening of laughs and conversation mostly in Italian, discussing eating habits in both Italy and our own home countries. Fabio couldn’t believe people took their coffee away and walked along the streets drinking it! Not very relaxing he said! Also that we mostly only had one course or maybe a main and dessert. I explained that this was because we often snacked in the afternoon. He thought that was strange! 

We finished with either Grappa or Limoncello ( guess what I had) and caught the bus home. 

What a night. 

[l to r] Ryan (the Aussie sailor), Fabio (the teacher), Lena (our hostess), Lesley, Barbara, Roberto (my Austrian “chauffer” to Cotignac)

I’m sitting in a cafe in a little piazza listening to the son of the owner playing the piano. It is so surprising to hear classical music being played at lunch time. The sun is shining and I’m about to eat risotto al fungi porcini! 

Then this afternoon I’m going bike riding along the coast. After Paris where it seemed to rain most of the time it’s lovely to have clear blue skies and a little warmer. 

Today I moved class again. I had them fooled I guess about how good I am and they had put me in the advanced class. But today happy to be back in intermediate! Better here with 2 males. Adrian from Switzerland and a young fellow from France. Both nice.

This is a lovely place. Bigger than Lerici where I was at the beginning of my holiday. It has a nice sea front and port with lots of boats. Then the town – a lovely street for the passagiate in the evening and quite a few shops with lots of high-end shops which reflects the clientele who come her for holidays I guess. 

There is a casino here in a gorgeous old building but I believe that’s the best part so haven’t ventured in there yet. Lots of slot machines as they are called here. 

Yesterday afternoon I had a big walk first of all uphill. There is an old part of town here called La Pigna which has the steepest, oldest streets. I climbed and climbed and it was like another world. The people up there have a few little piazzas and I think must hardly ever venture downtown. There were children riding bikes around the piazza and then taking off down the hill to cries from their mothers “basta basta”. I saw old men talking, women in huddles all looking at me wondering who I was, and slouching teenagers doing whatever they do when they don’t go to school or work. All really interesting. Took a few photos which I hope you will see soon ( to overcome problems I have been sending them to Steve and he has been adding them to the blog! [yea! Steve!]) 

Then following that I had a big walk along the sea front as the evening was so calm and almost warm. There’s an old port and a new one. Lots of yachts and little boats all bobbing along . It must be really busy here in summer. Lesley who is at the school (German girl living with her Italian boyfriend) works in an office at the port and said it is crazy all summer. She works 7 days some weeks and now is having some time off.

Lunch is finished now and was buono. In the time I have been sitting here lots of locals have come and greeted  the owner of the cafe, dark men have approached me selling bags, watches and belts – but so far no sunglasses! Now it time to go and get the bike. 

Let me take you  on a bike ride.  Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

The area of Sanremo near the water is a typical Italian beach front port. Boats everywhere and even lots of people even though it’s not summer. However no swimmers and very few people on the beaches (mind you, the beaches are not as wonderful as ours)  

The ocean was blue and the sun was shining. I passed a Grandfather playing with his grandson on the beach. 

Then a group of fit looking young men having lots of fun playing beach volleyball. It was easy cycling and I had time to look around. 

The track is only for walkers in one lane and cyclists in the other two. I passed through my first tunnel, well lit and in summer would be a relief from the sun I’m sure.

I rode past a series of what looked like sun shades but they had another use- solar panels.

 I rode over little bridges where the creeks run into the sea and got to admire the boats along the way-  and the ducks who looked quite at home and were enjoying the bread an elderly man was throwing to them. 

Then I passed a series of covered gardens – all shading vegetables. Italians love using every inch of land in a productive way. The gardens ran all the way up the surrounding hills. 

I saw fishermen trying their luck and just chilling out. 

The signs a long the way were as colourful as they were helpful. The maps showed the coast with “siete qui”  Showing where you were. 

I saw many churches, most of them little with shining domes and bells ringing out the time . 

I got off the track at Arma Di Taggia and explored the little streets, but it was only 3pm and all the little shops were closed and I couldn’t find a gelato! So back on track I passed along through Riva Ligure and then into one of the bigger villages San Lorenzo. I got off the track and rode around the port where there were quite a few very glamorous, serious money boats.

I stopped for coffee where the lady owner made me welcome and claimed it was a 
“stupendous – molto  bello oggi”  a beautiful day. 

I agreed with her and sat in the sun for coffee as the local Policeman  arrived for his coffee. He was so smartly turned out that I thought perhaps it was an episode of Inspector Montalbano. 

Back on the bike I rode along the stunning waterfront of San Lorenzo and stopped at a Cafetteria for a gelato. Yum. 

The sun started to sink behind the hill making reading the signs a little difficult . 

But I just turned around and looked at it from another angle. 

I walked back into town, found a lovely cafe for an afternoon Aperal Spritz ( remember them Pat, Anne and Narelle?) and thought how lucky I was. Just wish I had someone here with me to share this wonderful afternoon. 

Off to school and was put in with better students – so there are 4 girls.

Lesley, German 28 lives here with her boyfriend and speaks so well! Carla, 25 into the 3rd week of an intensive and living for a few months in the area! Also good. Melissa, 18, French, from Monaco, filling in time after leaving school . Also quite good – and me! Struggling to keep up. They are very nice though. 

The new teacher for us, Irene, thinks she has the lower class as she did some really basic stuff that even I could do. Poor Lesley was quite bored. Hope she comes back tomorrow. 

Last night did my little bit of supermarket shopping – but in the little stores near my place. A lovely  deli  had some great pesto, bread, and a few other things. I have missed the Italian food! 

So this afternoon I’m back at school watching an Italian movie and hoping to understand what is going on . I think the 3 girls in my class are all heading home and don’t need to watch the film as they probably go to the movies here anyway. 

Will keep you posted! 

Oh yes , it was market day in town and I visited after clas but didn’t buy anything! Not even the shoes I liked as there is no room in the bag! 

My day on Sunday started early. I finished all my list of things for Paris so off I went in a taxi to Gare de Lyon, for my train. There was a problem getting one yesterday so today I am off to Nice via Marseilles. 

I arrived in Nice after an ok stop in Marseilles where I didn’t have to lug the bag up and down stairs. Then onto Nice. By then it was raining hard, dark by 5.30 and got off the train in pouring rain and had to walk the length of the platform . Then found there was not lift so had to carry the bag and the extra cabin bag, down then up lots of stairs. Then walk 200 metres to the Best Western ( which was by this time something I was regretting booking). Why? because I thought I don’t want to have to get a taxi. I can walk I thought. But in the pouring rain with 2 bags that were by now very heavy! 

Arrived dripping and hungry and asked was there somewhere I could get some dinner. Helpful man on front desk said ” Oh you’re in Nice, you must go out for dinner” Go on a train to the water front! Are you joking I thought! This is the water front as it was teeming outside. So I asked if I could possibly have something ordered in and he said helpfully “you can have tomorrow’s picnic lunch”. The hotel gives everyone a packed lunch. Have a picnic in your room he advised with a smile. Well it was so much fun in my room eating a tuna sandwich and watching tv. At the least I got an English speaking channel and got to hear all about the election in the USA. Lucky me. 

Next morning bright and early I was first for breakfast and then back to the station – in reverse. This time down the stairs and then up to the platform. Oh why I thought did I choose this! 

I arrived at Ventimiglie where you have to change again for an Italian train. But I cleverly walked out of the station and got a bus which landed me half an hour later near the school I am attending. I struggled in and up and got started with a test of my Italian. I settled down and was put with Mario and a very nice young man as my teacher in a class of mixed bodies from France, Germany and Switzerland. I’m such a novelty. 

Walked around the town after class dragging my bag and looking for my apartment. Eventually a very nice young man took pity and carried my bag up a very steep hill. (shades of Lerici, Pat, if you are reading this) 

Apartment is nice with lovely views of the town towards the sea, with a lovely helpful lady named Hilda in the upstairs apartment to help me settle in. But no wifi! Oh no I thought – cut off. So my nights will be spent reading and typing things up to send at the school the next day.

Got ready and this time took the metro and got there early so went across the road to look at the special Art exhibition set up in the gardens opposite the Opera House Bastille. Some great art and some way out art. 

I then found my seat. Amazing but no one at the door to check you in? The bell had just gone and not an usher in sight.

Anyway my seat tonight was in the 2nd row, 2nd balcony. Great view. Had a lovely lady from ” the village of Montmarte” as she so charmingly put it next to me. She was elegant and lovely and then her friend arrived and they were both charming. They told me a friend had moved to Brisbane but “it did not agrees with her. She was scared of zee snakes”. I told them it was not unusual to find snakes in the garden, but we were used to them. They looked amazed. 

Then the young man on the other side joined in and I had another new friend. He was on his own as his wife was away and doesn’t like Opera. He was about 30 and was very sweet. I spent interval talking to them and they were all really lovely. The Opera -“Daughter of the Regiment” – was really good. It was a great production and my new friends told me the director and the conductor were well regarded. It was a good production but was in French as were the subtitles – not a word of English, so even though I knew what was going on I missed a lot. There were quite a lot of spoken lines as it was a fairly light opera. One particularly good solo – by the heroine who was to be separated from her new love – brought tears to more than a few eyes. The lady next to me sobbed and was mopping her eyes for several minutes after. The French are so demonstrative! Not usually! 

It ended happily, as all operas do, and down came the French style crowd and cock a doddle dooed . It brought the house down. 

I took the no 69 bus home past the Louvre over the bridge with the view of the Eiffel Tower down Bve St Germaine and I was home.