Visiting the murals

Ok, so I’ve nearly done on my comments about travels this year, but here’s one from a work trip that was back in January.

Part of the way these particular meetings are done is to give the participants a chance to learn about each other’s cultures first-hand.  And this time, it was Belfast’s turn to host – and to give an insight into the famous murals representing images from the two sides of the political spectrum.

To help us put things in context, the hosts kindly laid on a slide show on the first night.  We were able to see pictures that we’d then see for real the next day, as well as others that have now vanished, either under new murals or have been cleared.  The guide and deviser of the slide show was scrupulously fair in portraying both sides, switching from Republican to Loyalist pictures and back.

I think few of the teachers who’d come from mainland UK had realised just how detailed the imagery is – I certainly didn’t realise there were so many symbols for each side to draw on.  It was very powerful to be going in a coach along a local street, with little shops, and suddenly to hear that this was the Falls Road,and that buses didn’t serve at all at some points in the Troubles.

I hadn’t realised how close the different neighbourhoods are to each other at points.  Perhaps one of the most impacting sights was going along the side of a fairly normal looking estate, and see murals covering the whole side of a house on the end of a row.  Our guide also told us that at times, some people tried to cover over the mural…and might be visited in the night to be told, in no uncertain terms, that the mural was to stay.

On a happier note, it was also a trip which included a Northern Irish ceilidh.  It was a little confusing where some dances were the same as Scottish ones, but with different names; others had the same name but slightly different steps in between.  The Scottish contingent acquitted themselves well, however. In proper ceilidh fashion, there wasn’t just dancing but also some singing, including from two Welsh participants determined to keep the side up…

Food tourism

The more chances we have to travel, the more we seem to bring back food…or try out new food.

We’ve been doing this for a while when visiting Italy.  Some of the best options are ones our friends have introduced us to.  A great alternative to crisps and nibbles is the tarallo (taralli if you have more than one, which of course you will), a little loop of seasoned bread baked to a similar finish to bread sticks.

We’ve also tried gnochetti sardi, not actually gnocchi but very small shell shaped pieces of pasta, which are wonderful in a stew.  They cook right down but still have a little bit of a bite to them.

Our May trip to Spain was a chance to try out food that I’d read about for a while.  We bought membrillo, quince paste that is meant to be best tried with sharp manchego cheese.  We also found packets of very thick hot chocolate, and saffron that is much cheaper than in the UK.  The market in Madrid had some fantastic pastries as well as lots of fruit – including grapes with double pips.

We benefitted from my colleagues’ experience when we all met up in the evening.  A few had previously lived in Spain, and so we tried baby octopus (surprised at how good it was), grilled asparagus with lots of salt and pepper (I changed my previous dislike of asparagus) and a fair few other things as part of the tapas experience.

I managed to have some time in Berlin between my induction courses in Germany and Austria.  I knew it had lots of good Turkish food, amongst other things.  My surprise was just how popular the cocktails were…a little reminder of its former decadence in the Thirties?

In Graz, Austria, the local speciality was pumpkin oil, a strong green colour, which is served with every salad.  But it’s also good with meat, and is meant to be very good for you.

When I stayed on for the induction course, food was a key part of the way the centre (a former castle) was run.  You could buy local organic apples etc – but equally lots of cake was available every breaktime.

The honesty boxes were working overtime…but just in case you missed out, they kindly served cake at the end of every lunch time too.  And strong red wine to finish up the course.  Or finish off the tutors, most of whom then had to dash back up to Vienna and the outskirts for teaching next day.

We tried a ‘tourist menu’ in the Trastevere suburb of Rome with a certain trepidation – would it be good? In fact, it was a fantastic meal, allowing us to try some Roman specialities we knew, such as spaghetti carbonara, but also the veal dish saltimbocca, which we didn’t.  It really does ‘jump in the mouth” as the name has it…

It’s just as well I’m writing this after an evening meal.  My apologies if it’s making you hungry.  Or maybe not.  I may have kicked my cookbook buying habit, but I’m still happily cooking away.  My great plan for the Christmas holiday: making my own tarte tatin, having now acquired some pans that will go on the hob and in the oven.  Jamie would approve.  

 

The life of a professional cat in Rome

There is plenty to say about Rome, our next destination after Ischia, as part of our Italy trip in October.  One thing we hadn’t expected, however, was all the cats…

You can buy calendars of cats on famous monuments – and certainly if you go past any of the Roman sites at night, it doesn’t take long to spot them moving about among fallen masonry. In fact, some of the sites have put up notices informing passersby of attempts to neuter the cat population to try to keep it under control.

Observing cats at work, posing for cameras in various settings, led us to consider a day in the life of a professional cat in Rome:

Morning: the park on the top of the Aventine hill (close to where we stayed).  Attract young German boys who want to sit and stroke you.  Best achieved as a pack of three where each cat is a different colour, for pleasing photographic contrast.

Aventine Cats, Rome

*Cats who want to work overtime can also appear at the park on Saturday mornings, where there is a good chance of appearing in a few wedding photos as the bride and groom pose for photos after a ceremony in the adjacent church.  Should the bride wish to sit on a seat with the cats, claws must be sheathed.

Late morning, early afternoon: a spot of calendar modelling.  it is best to get into your favoured historic location in time to have a nap.  This allows the photographers more of a chance to capture your best side, and to rest from the morning’s labours.

Mid afternoon: Appear outside the Colosseum.  The well trained cat can keep the body motionless while turning its head to face each of the three photographers in sequence.  Ideal for attracting attention of tourists who don’t want to pay the charge for being photographed with a gladiator.

Colosseum Cat, Rome

Evening: a little evening stroll around some other monuments, or a quick look for food in any food bins outside restaurants.  Nervous cats beware: this time coincides with the evening stroll, which can include humans with small yappy dogs.

Further options for suitable cat remuneration should be put to the editor.

Fango!

That’s mud to you…Ischia (see post re noise of the surf) is renowned for its hot springs and volcanic mud.  As a treat, Dan and I decided to have one of the treatments each, and I went for the mud treatment plus shower (very necessary afterwards).

The room where they did the treatment had a little cut out at the base of one wall.  When the lady in charge was clear what I wanted, she called ‘Bucket of mud please!’ or something similar through the wall, and they slid in a tin bucket full of hot mud…

You mostly lie back on the mud, which is spread out on a table with a useful plastic sheet to keep the mud in the right place.  Further dollops of mud are added to hands, feet, knees etc.  Then they wrap you up, add an extra blanket on top, and leave you to steam for fifteen minutes.

I would say it is pretty relaxing – the weight of the mud on your hands means that you have no inclination to move.  Although you might worry what would happen if a fire alarm sounded, for example.

Clearly, the mud gets everywhere.  You get the option to hose yourself down with a hand held shower after, but really you need someone else to help with the shower too, so you’re not left with mud anywhere too embarassing. Another option on the fango option is seeing the fumaroles elsewhere on the island, where steam comes up through mud.

After three: di mi fango, fango, fango…

The roar of the surf – on a five second loop

It sounds like something you create on a synthesiser, but this was actually the sea around the island of Ischia, in the bay of Naples, where we started our main holiday of the year in October.

As the water is less affected by tides than it is around the UK coast, the swell was pretty constant all day, and the sound too.  There was a particular low growl to the sound, and even though the waves did come up the beach by varying amounts, the sound remained the same.  I tried timing it, and the pattern was just under five seconds almost every time.

It was particularly good to listen to at night, and I tried leaving the French windows open so I could hear it as I was dropping off to sleep.  Sadly, my enthusiasm for such a romantic sound was tempered by us both being bitten thoroughly by mosquitoes…

Not so different from the midge bites on a west coast of Scotland holiday, then.  But certainly warmer – even in mid October, temperatures were in the mid 20s centigrade, and even came close to 30 one day.

Roar of the surf on Ischia

I had previously been unsure about a hot beach holiday – when you’ve grown up with Scottish beach holidays, rain is an expected occurrence at least at some point (and is indeed welcomed to keep the midges off).

But after three days, I started to get the hang of sun loungers, particularly with a very useful adjustable part for shading my eyes.  A pool that was the temperature of a warm bath was also a good incentive!

Our one word of caution: if you want to try Ischia, which we really enjoyed, it seems advisable to speak either Italian or German.  Most of the other hotel guests were German speaking, and the hotel staff switched between greeting you in Italian and taking your order for dinner in German…Further practice for me, but it left Dan out a bit.