wacky tabacky

Captain: Cary, can you smell wacky tabacky?

 

Um, sorry, can I smell what?

 

Wacky tabacky. You know, weed.

 

Hahahahaha. wacky tabacky. Hahaha. Hahahaha

 

That's funny. I like that, wacky tabacky.

 

Talking of wacky tabacky, Amsterdam soon! eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Apricale and the Cat Conundrum

Whilst I’d like to start this post with “nestled on top of a picturesque mountain in Italy’s illustrious Liguria, lies the sleepy, ancient hilltop village of Apricale, known for its breathtaking views, rich history and fine cuisine”,  I just can’t, because, well, that’s not really my style and I feel there are FAR more interesting details to divulge. Whilst it is all those things; quaint, picturesque, charming, it’s just, well, the cats, they’re everywhere, what’s their deal? They run rampant around the village, fornicating, defecating, purring manically, they're TOTALLY out of control. Why, I wonder, are there SO many cats? Did some old lady lose the plot and start a breeding scheme to ward off insanity and loneliness in her old age, is there a surplus of rats, is there some kind of a “buy one, get fifteen free” special on cat food that NO one can resist so they lapse into a cat food buying frenzy and then feel they need to have enough cats to justify buying all that cat food? I don’t know, but seriously, something needs to be done, the place even SMELLS like cats.

The friendly, somewhat eccentric, villagers are OBSESSED with their furry feline friends, as if having them lurking around every nook and cranny in the village (and of these there are MANY) wasn’t enough, they paint them onto their beautifully hand-made wooden letter boxes…

 

They sell CAT postcards, handmade wooden cat magnets, they’ve even invented little wooden gate contraptions to put in front of their doors which, REALLY, just seem to me like another canvas for them to paint CATS onto…

 

I walked into their only grocery shop, the alimentari, and what was the first things I saw, yeah, four shelves of CAT food, there was more cat food in that shop than human food, you think I’m joking, but I’m NOT. The old lady at the museum/garden/look-out point/excuse to take 3.50 Euros off of tourists at the very top of the village was sporting a lovely, wait for it, hand knitted, it’s coming… CAT jersey, HELL YEAH she was. I went to the restaurant in the beautiful little piazza and WHAT was on the menu? Haha, scared you. No, it wasn’t cat, but it WAS rabbit, the most delicious (and only) rabbit I’ve ever eaten, served Ligurian style with olives, potatoes and tomatoes. A quick lesson in Italian, a “primi piatti” is a first course, which I soon realised after my miniscule, albeit extremely tasty, bowl of ravioli arrived so, really, I had no choice BUT to order the rabbit.

 

Crazy cat situation aside, Apricale is truly worth a visit. It’s a short bus ride away from Ventimiglia train station and the views really are quite exquisite. Sit in the piazza at A Ciassa, dabble in a bit of red wine, rabbit, ravioli or ALL of the above, log on to the village’s free wi-fi and enjoy some of Italy’s finest coffee with a packet (yes I said PACKET) of beautifully wrapped amaretti biscuits. Admire the very avante garde bicycle protruding from the charming church tower (can you spot it in the picture below? Oooh I like this game, can you spot the CAT, the Italian flag and the medi-evil folk made out of cardboard too?)

 

Here’s a closer look in case your eyes aren't QUITE as sharp as they should be…

How bizarre, I love it.

Get lost in the ancient, winding, cobbled streets lovingly decorated with the spray of cat’s urine, kidding, with hand-painted murals depicting village life and marvel at the fact that people ACTUALLY live there, behind those tiny, cob-web covered wooden doors.

 

Join the locals in a gruelling game of tug-of-war and a free slice of freshly baked foccacia or a lovingly made cannoli in the piazza as the sun sets and the local music guru does his thing on the guitar. End your day off with a walk down to the very bottom of the village, admiring the view along the way and catch the bus back to Ventimiglia, leaving with a few more pictures of cats than can be deemed entirely necessary, a few hundred calories you really didn’t need and the hope that one day you will return to this wonderfully strange little hilltop village that is Apricale.

On Souvenirs and Tchotchkes for Toni

I have GOT to stop buying souvenirs. Those who know me will know I'm not exactly a model of self-restraint, lest you think I am lying, hear this: I just devoured a cannoli the size of my head, and still, I want more! Back to the souvenirs, seriously, if I don't stop buying them I will soon be buried in novelty beer openers, key rings, hand-painted bottles of bad decision juice and other tchotchkes (tchotchke: a small piece of worthless crap, a decorative knick knack with little or no purpose, LOVE this word). Well, I guess that doesn't sound THAT bad, I mean, "crushed by tchotchkes" is way up there with “asphyxiation by cake” and “cuddled to death by pandas” on my list of preferred ways to die. But still, whilst that would be a lovely way to die, I'm going to chose LIFE and (try) stop with the tchotchkes. Today, I visited a beautiful Italian village in the mountains called Apricale and bought the BEST tchotchke for my Toni Goedhals, more on Apricale later and clues as to what said tchotchke IS...

NEW video

Look how fast we were going, aaaahsam

VIDEO - Arriving in Portofino, Italy

Creepy churches, free pizza and the real Imperia

Sitting in the rather dingy little internet cafe yesterday listening to Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston whilst the only other customer, a crazy old man drank wine and muttered loudly to himself, I was thinking “oh, whoop-de-doo, this is Imperia, where we’ll be for the next 10 days”, yaaaay. I walked around the town in the pouring rain (avec umbrella) through shady (and not in the good way) little streets that looked thousands of years old, paint peeling off, tiny little doors that only hobbits could get through, mangy cats and grumpy old ladies with beards. I walked past the laundromat come bar (?), a souvenir shop that sold mainly Hello Kitty key rings and ceramic thimbles with Yorkshire Terriers on them (?), a fruit shop that only had 3 apples, a bunch of rotten bananas, a swarm of fruit flies and a sack of oranges. I did, however, manage to find a shop that sold beautiful wool (this is what happens when you’re left on the boat by yourself, you start knitting) so after a 10 minute enactment of knitting and indicating what colour I wanted, I bought some wool. I carried on walking and ran straight into one of the most enormous churches I’ve ever seen, so, I went inside. BIG mistake. Mistake of epic proportions. It was the most frightening place I’ve ever been. It was dark and echoey and there were creepy statues everywhere. The bells were ringing really loudly and at the same time there was a group of people chanting, the chants getting louder and more frightening and it was storming and there were candles flickering and gusts of wind coming through the door, I thought it might be disrespectful to RUN so I speed walked out of there as fast as I could before God could strike me down. Never again.

 

My luck seemed to improve as I walked into a bakery to get a loaf of ciabatta (when in France, eat baguette, when in Italy, eat ciabatta) and was given a complimentary slice of pizza and a bag of biscuits for “having face like the little doll”, okay, fine, I’ll take that. Who am I to turn down free pizza? I got back to the boat and said hi to the crew sitting on the dock, “sheesh, Imperia’s pretty grotty hey”, haha... that’s Porto Maurizio, the main town of Imperia is that way, you get the bus there, it’s really nice. Haha, PHEW. So, that’s where I am today, the real Imperia, drinking a cappucciono, people watching and blogging on my little pink laptop after exploring the vibrant market that's on today, beautiful flowers and incredibly fresh produce which inspired me to buy a little antipasti recipe book, in Italian, with the hopes that A my cooking will improve and B, so will my Italian. Oh, and I've completely lost the plot, I came dangerously close to buying a tea pot for R900 (in my defence it was an amazing tea pot, beautifully made cast iron, dusty pink with flowers engraved all over it, with a filter inside to put the tea leaves in... maybe I'll be outrageous and go back to get it... eee)

VIDEO CLIPS

Have a look at my videos, this one was taken yesterday on the way from Santa Margherita to Imperia, the dolphins were playing at the bow for ages, so beautifaaal

HOLD the phone

Could everyone please just take 2 minutes out of their day to appreciate the awesomeness that is the Ape (pronounced apeh) camper. These little things are all over Italy (not the camper version), they're like a little scooter (with 3 wheels) but more like a mini car and they are SO cute I could squeeze them to death or just throw candy floss all over them and juuuust EAT them.

 

 

I want one more than I want a Macbook Air (I think)

Animal noises, sign language and other means of communication

This whole shopping business is rather tricky, even more so when you can’t speak the local language. I’ve just (sort of, kind of, not really) got the hang of French and now I’m in Italy and it’s a whooole different story. Today, my shopping experience when like this

Bonjour, sorry.. bonjourNO (?). Um, anglais? Sorry, I mean English? Can you speak English?

Italiano.

Oh, I see (well that makes sense I guess). Okay, well, I’m looking for a butchery.

*scrunchy up face* Aboooocherry? No. No.

Okay, um marcelleria?

No. Yes. Down. Down. Down (pointing upwards with his hands) left (pointing right, great, now what exactly do I do with this information?)

Grazie. Chow

Walk walk walk, down down down left aaaand I’m at the rotisserie where they sell already cooked meat.

Grrreat. ROUND 2. Bonjourno, mi scuzi, eh, marcelleria?

Eventually arrive at the butchery.

Bonjourno. Mi scuzi.. Lamb?

No.

No you don’t have it or no you don’t understand?

No.

Ooookay. Um, baaaaa baaaaa. Sheep. Lamb. Baaa Baaa

Aaaaah okay, yes.

The butcher found this rather entertaining (as did the rest of the customers in the shop) and proceeded to ask me if I needed some “moooo mooooo” (marching around behind the counter with his hands as horns held up against his head, what a joker)

Qui. I mean yes. Two grande mooooo mooooo und zwei (sorry, that’s German) TWO cluck cluck cluck.

Grazie. Arravadechi.

Mission accomplished.

Wait, I’m looking for the fish monger?

Eh?

Uh, fish *proceeds to make fish like motions (still not understood), *acts out casting a rod and reeling in a fish.

Aaaaah. Pesceria?

YES. Fifty meter, left, pesceria.

Phew. ALL in a day’s work.

kay, where AM I?

Three clues...

Could it beeeee ITALY?

Elba, Italy

So, I was completely lying about it being a 9 hour trip to Portofino, I'm a little disorientated (and blonde), it was 9 hour trip to the island of Elba... Portofino was just around the corner, literally 10 minutes away. Of course, it was the joke of the century when I blurted out "wow, Portifino is SO beautiful", they ALWAYS pick on me, it's tough being the only girl on the boat.

 

The trip here was summin else. It started off okay, there were tuna jumping everywhere so we threw out a few lines, didn't catch anything but still fun.I didn't get to go do any grocery shopping as we left in such a hurry to try beat the bad weather and now we're in Elba anchored by a little woop-woop town with a "shop" the size of my cabin so I'm pretty low on food supplies, gaaaah, thank goodness for the little old man on his fishing boat, we flagged him down and he sold us some lovely fresh fish which literally came straight out the sea, onto his boat and onto our boat in the space of about 10 minutes and then gutted, cooked and served straight away... how's THAT for fresh fish?  We're meant to be in a "protected" bay but the boat has just started rolling around like crazy, we might have to pick up the anchor and head off somewhere else, the lady on the radio is saying in her seductive Italian voice (weaatherr, warrrning, thunderstorms, warning, South Westerly, force 7, weeeather FOREcast, thunderstorms, warning, poor visibility", yeah it's not sounding good. A small part of me kind of LOVES the thought of being stuck in a thunderstorm on a boat in the middle of no where, SO exciting... and then I remember that I have to slave away in the galley while everyone else sits in the wheelhouse and enjoys the ride and then I don't like the thought of it so much.

 

 

Other than the scary weather, we're having a great time, the owners are lovely and the places we're going to are beautiful. Ronnie and I went off in the tender for a little browse around the town, SO Italian... scooters, ice cream, incredible pasta, limoncello you NAME it.

 

I have some beautiful photographs but this internet costs SO much money and the captain will kill me for uploading photos, so I better not. He's starting to lose the plot I think... he's just gone into his cabin and told me... "if any one comes looking for me, tell them I've gone to Afghanistan to plant opium and make MILLIONS"... mmmmkay.

Hoping we don't have to move but I'm sleeping with my uniform on cos we're probably gonna have to pick the anchor up and head off any time soon, I'm practically being thrown out of my bed the boat's rolling so badly.

Santa Margherita

I have about 10 seconds of internet, we're about to leave the port of Santa Margherita (Italy) in a few minutes, supposed to leave tomorrow but the weather is turning naaasty, we're gonna have a pretty bumpy 9 hour trip (force 6) to Portofino. This place is so beautiful, the trip here not so much, HELLO seasickness nice to meet you, bleergh, all pretty exciting stuff though, not so exciting having to make chargrilled swordfish with a tomato chilli salsa when the boat is rocking so much you can hardly stand upright, interesting.

Okay I'm off baaai