Mesmerising Moments and Musings

I have two favourite moments in the day: 

One is at around 6-7am in the morning when the air is fresh and crisp

 and the streets are still deserted.

The other, especially around this time of year, is sunset.

Not sunset in that romantic, blazing-red-sun-disappearing-over-the-horizon sort of way that such a statement may bring to mind.
My room is facing the wrong way for me to see that side of it, and the only glimpse of said blazing sun that I do get, is in the reflection of the hotel windows opposite my building. 

No - what I am referring to is that time around 7pm, when the busy-ness of the day is behind you but there is still a good chunk of evening left ahead of you. It's when big puffy clouds take over the dimming sky, above endless red tiled roofs and orange brick church towers; some amazingly fresco-esque, others threateningly charcoal grey. The bats are out flying in a frenzy and there is a cool breeze that filters through the narrow streets and high buildings of the old Jewish ghetto. There is the static excitement of a potential thunderstorm - but then, it could all just roll into another quiet balmy evening. It's a conflicting moment of relief and regret; time to relax but also the end of yet another day, one in which I probably could have been more productive.

Just yesterday at exactly this sliver of the day, it hit me that another chapter [or sub-chapter let's say] of my life is reaching it's closing sentence. The little black dot marking the end of the last phrase is a mere metre away and once it's done, it'll really be done.

Granted, I will probably come back, and there is not need to be quite so dramatic, but never will it be under the same circumstances, and nor will I be the same person by then. My days of watching bats fly at dusk from my Jewish ghetto room as a twenty-something student will be behind me for good.

And yet "As soon as I get through exams"// "As soon as I get this essay in" //"As soon as I do this and that" // "As soon as, as soon as..." seems to have been on repeat all year long. Only to be followed by: "Then I'll catch up with that friend of mine"// "Then I'll read that book I've been meaning to read"// "Then I'll prioritise staying fit and exercising"

It seems that

As soon as I [insert pending boring task], then I will [insert desirable task]

Has defined the past few months that I've spent here. Far too often, far too much.

For a condition with such a simple remedy, it seems it can also be a chronic one.

Putting off what we really want to do and things that we enjoy for the sake of doing what we feel we ought to do, happens too often and too easily. And the scary thing is that for so many, by the time they realise that they might be in the right place, whether physically or mentally, or setting to finally do what they want to do, half their lifetime is behind them. Which is rubbish!

I mean You Only Live Once, right?

Why do we we let our happiness fall so low on our list of priorities?

Of course we need grit and determination and hard work.
It is important to be productive and, from time to time, do things that just have to get done.
But it's also important to remember, that once you finish a chapter of your life,
or a paragraph of it, or even a simple sentence of it,
once that little black fullstop is in place, it ain't budging. Full stop.

So we need to keep on asking ourselves if what we're doing is really worth our time and effort.
If it is going to get us where we want to be and eventually make us happy.

Cos if the answer to that is 'no'...

It's time to stop filling the page for the sake of it, and flip to a fresh a one.

.

La Dolce Vita

It's nearly 4 in the morning

When I slip through my front door and tip toe to my bedroom.

A bottle of bubbly pignoletto and two glasses of red in, 

Much has been said - many a bean has been spilled.

Two hafus sway precariously on a step,
In a piazza,
Somewhere in the city centre

Perhaps it is the shared mix

Perhaps it is the bubbly

But somehow I feel I can wear my own skin,

A celebratory evening has snowballed into a great discorso not quite alla italiana
[but a bit alla-everything]

A snowball of our theories, still modest and in the making,
(topped with our worries and our doubts, blooming in time for spring)

The worries and doubts of two twenty-something hybrids,
Caught somewhere between two continents,
On the buckle of a boot

A great big snowball on a mild mid-may evening

It's nearly 4 in the morning

When I wipe the remainders of the day off my face,

And as I slip into my blue boxers

Pulling my striped pyjama top over my tired head

I heave a great big sigh,
About as big as the moon

Sometimes you just need to be understood;

Your worries and stories and jokes, all of those,

The dialect you spill from the corner of your lips,
The label sewn on to the tips of your toes

The one listing the materials that make you complete,
(the one that says "only hand washing" - "no tumble drying please")
The one next to the roots sprouting on the soles of your feet.

His first talk that he refers to can be found here.

Buona notte

Priorities

Prioritising is a very important skill. Especially as a student.

 Let's just make that clear.

So what to do when you have a dissertation to write and several exams to prepare for, 

but the ever seductive Italian summer sun is beckoning at you from your window?

Go to the Mercato della Terra of course.

It's grocery shopping after all.

(It's a chore... and a pressing one too. Therefore it is a priority.)

Once you've arrived, go ahead and get yourself a porchetta (or pesto) tigella.

Just getting brunch while waiting to be served at the veggie stall you see.

Two birds with one stone.

Then get some more food. You know, that way you don't need to eat till dinner.

Just saving yourself time mate, all strategic.

Upon arriving home, once you've stocked your fridge up with fresh veg,

only then is it time to lament.

Not only do you now have to work, but you've also had a taste of the warm rays of sunshine

on your pale, pasty skin (telling of how studious you have been up until now - so flaunt it.)

You've heard the buzz of people soaking it all up.

You know that everyone will be heading to the park for a nice snooze. 

Maybe join them later, have a quick walk - as a study break.

(Don't want to be overexerting yourself now.)

It is Saturday after all. 

And lest we forget, we are in Italy.

(What even is this "work" you keep on talking about?)

But in the meantime...

What to do, what to do.

Well, bring the park to you of course.
(I.e. drag your desk half way across your room to your window.)
(Your bed may have to do as a makeshift desk chair. But as long as your back holds - not a problem.)
Ecco, your dull workspace has now been converted into a lovely, park-like space. Sort of.

Once that's done,

Pop some fresh market mint into a tea pot and make some mint tea.

And play some Bob Marley. Or fitting music of your choice.

 Now, and only now, are you ready to start working.

Talk about prioritising perfection.

I'd say you could all probably learn a thing or two from me...

Sakura image from here.

Tips, tricks and tools for fools

I am fairly certain that all the reading I have been doing for my dissertation has got me heading straight for the same fate as Lieut. Colin Blythe in The Great Escape. In other words, I am going blind. Fact.

Recruitment for guide person will start shortly. 

So here's hoping that I'll make it to the end of this post.
Luckily the torrential rain and lightning which has been plaguing Bologna for the past couple of days has made it easier to insert myself in the library and stay there for more than 20 minutes (win). So after a fruitful day of studying, and a particularly dull week of minimal socialising and venturing out, I thought I'd just give a few tips and tools that have helped me over the years, for learning a language.

Aside from the classic and best-known tricks to picking up a language (drinking and perhaps picking up a native-speaker in the process) here are three things that I would recommend:

1) Use a Translation Dictionary Thesaurus 

My second mother from my second family, up in Milan, gave me a little pocket thesaurus and commanded that I use it when reading and writing in Italian. Parting with good ol' Wordreference was a heartbreaking prospect, but hey, apparently it's what all the kids at school are doing, and unlike a lot of English people, Italians, on the whole, have excellent command of their own language. And so, a couple of months ago I made the switch from quick and easy Wordref to my little black book of "sinonimi & contrari". It's a great way to expand your vocabulary and it all happens naturally; you look up one word and learn four or five new ones. And if you don't recognise any of the words listed, then you can use a dictionary. By which point you have also learnt the meaning of the four or five, previously, unknown words. Multiple words with one stone!    

2) Join the Club!

What stroke of madness made me dish out 140 euros to play volleyball on a non-competitive, mixed team when I was paying 1/14th of that for a competitive, women's team in London (with a coach) you ask? Well, aside from the fact that I didn't want to become completely spherical on my year abroad, it also boiled down to the fact that I didn't know anyone when I first got here.
Joining a sports team, taking dancing lessons, joining a book club - or even just going to talks and events that interest you - is a great way to meet people who, most likely, have similar interests and hobbies as you. Your first conversation is also less prone to being awkward, as the activity you are participating in, or the talk you have just attended becomes a good conversation starter. Key tip: don't be afraid to go it alone. And be weary of bringing along a native. If you go with someone who speaks your language, you will probably end up clinging to them for the duration of the event, or at least to begin with, which could hinder your chances of conversing with other people!

3) Lang-8
While tandems are a good way to meet people and polish up on your non-native languages, they can be a little awkward and tedious to maintain. Lang-8 is sort of like a language tandem social media website. Basically you sign up, specify which language(s) you are/would like to learn and which one(s) you speak natively and start writing! You can start with an introduction of yourself in your target language, or by writing journal entries, or a few paragraphs about your interests/hobbies; whatever you want. Then, people that have specified your target language as their native language will see your post and correct it for you. You will then be able to see your original version, line for line, next to the corrected version. You can (though don't have to) return the favour to others by correcting other people's English posts (or posts that are written in whatever is your native language). Simple!

Of course there are many other tips that I have not mentioned, like reading books, watching un-dubbed films/tv series with subtitles and all the usual, but these are a few that are a little bit off the beaten track (except for maybe the second one) which I thought could be handy! 

And finally, to conclude this post, I share with you a little piece of entertainment that I found in my academic reading this afternoon. I know a lot of people are revising or writing dissertations like I am, and it can be a tough time, full of self-doubt and plummeting confidence. Well, my friends, not to worry. Today, I received some consolation, and a laugh, when I read that the subject of my dissertation, Dino Buzzati (author of Il deserto dei Tartari, Sessanta Racconti, Poema a Fumetti and others - recommended reads) shared something in common with me: a poor understanding of the rules of punctuation.

Anyone that has read a couple of my posts will know by now, that I tend to toss my commas around. Which is why this little gem about Buzzati made me chuckle (alone, in the library of, typical):

“Montanelli afferma, a proposito dei primi anni di Buzzati al “Corriere”, che i suoi colleghi dovevano sempre intervenire, all’inizio, a sistemargli le virgole: i punti sapeva dove metterli, ma le virgole le “buttava così, come fosse stato del sale, dove andava andava”. – “[...Egli] scrive senza punteggiatura e non è mai riuscito a capire dov’è che finisce una frase e ne comincia un’altra”. 

“Montanelli (a colleague of the author) confirms, that during Buzzati's first few years at the "Corriere" (an Italian newspaper), his colleagues always had to intervene, at the start, to tidy up his commas: he knew where to put his fullstops, but his commas he 'threw around, like granules of salt, they landed where they landed.'” - “[He] writes without punctuation and has never been able to understand where one sentence ends and another begins.”

Fancy that - I spend so much time doubting myself and my capabilities but hey, at the end of the day we're all clueless, even the very best of us!

Happy Friday.

Image from The Great Escape was from here.
The one of the thesaurus from here.
The super corny team photo from here. The next image was from here.
And that of Buzzati from here.
Excerpt about Buzzati's poor punctuation from p187 of Nella Giannetto's Il sudario delle caligini (Firenze, 1996)

Just when you think you've heard it all

I've mentioned before that Bologna is a small city which can at times be stiflingly so, especially coming from London.
But there is something much more delightful and pleasing about stumbling upon a new, unbeknownst trinket in a city the size of Bologna, that simply isn't experienced in the same way in a metropolis as large as London.

When it comes to London, I am fully in the know that I haven't even scraped the surface of the city; there are whole zones that I have never visited and many a main streets that I don't even know exists. Bear in mind, this is after two years of living in the very heart of it. The countless alleyways, various nooks and innumerable crannies mean that when you do stumble upon something new, it is a sort of unanticipated expectation; pleasant all the same but more a matter of what and when you will discover something, on any given expedition, than if you will or won't. You could stay in London your whole life and still have plenty of places waiting to be discovered, tucked away in the crease of a map or hiding behind a double decker bus. In comparison, Bologna comes across as much more conquerable, almost to the point of being boring; it is easy to forget that despite its modest size it is just as venous in its network of vicoli and backstreets.

So, when, with the guidance of your local friends, you veer into a sliver of the city that you have never explored, it is like uncovering a gem that you've been sitting on all along. Spending more time with my Bolognese friends has, unsurprisingly, led to a couple of new discoveries - little venues off the beaten track of Bolo, happily minding their own business, happily hidden, yet also happy to be found.

I present to you:

Bar Senza Nome

Literally meaning "Bar No Name" this cosy little venue serves nibbles and drinks and plays good music. It's quietly propped on one of the many alleyways of Bologna, just at the rear end of the Mercato delle Erbe. So what makes it so unique? Well, it was first described to me as il "Bar dei Sordi" which translates to "the Bar of the Deaf", as it is a bar run by a small group of deaf and mute people. Naturally, ordering your drink comes to involve a lot of hand-gesturing (even for Italian standards), exaggerated mouthing of words and a fair amount of lip-reading - because the staff are almost all deaf.

It's a simple bar that harbours a range of customers, from non-deaf to deaf and mute people, all flocking here for the same purpose: a drink and a chat in a relaxed space. It invites a mix of young customers silently conversing away with their hands, intermittently pausing for a sip of their drink, as well as older men gesturing to each other over mouthfuls of mortadella panini (unforeseen pro of sign language: you can talk with your mouth full without revealing the contents of it). The bartenders here are friendly, the appending toilet signs are handwritten and playfully drawn with pictures explaining the correct sign language for "WC" and the place tinkles with noise, chatter and music just like any other bar. Regardless of whether you can hear any of it or not, it is a welcoming space and enjoyable to everyone. For Bologna-dwellers out there that don't know of this place, this one I will leave for you to seek out. So keep your eyes peeled, or whatever functioning senses you have at your disposal (I, for one, am as blind as a bat), and go for a wander around the vicoli and vie behind the market... you might just manage to sniff it out too.

Opening times: Tues - Sat 15.00 - 3.00, Sun 15.00 - 23.00

Images one, two, and three.

A small Word on Dreaming Big

The world is your oyster.

You ain't got long on it.

So you better make the most of it.

That was the conclusion that my nutty friend and I reached over our steamy bowls of pumpkin soup on her last night visiting me in Bologna.

She is one of a handful of friends that I can have these occasional heart-to-hearts with, whether it be over sloppy soup or as a bed time chat - concluding with deep sighs freckled with wisdom (perhaps) and a series of mumbles, before finally rolling over and falling asleep.

She is one great big character concentrated into a petite, peppery package of dreams (she's also a bit of a juice-junkie). 

And she always reminds me of how important it is to create your own path - even if you don't know exactly where it will take you.

A wise one she is. And a talented one too.

Dream big, even if you're small. That is the moral of the story, I think.

Bologna Delights

It was nice to be back in London over Christmas. I do love the city; the familiarity of it, the vitality of it and obviously the company that comes with it. Of course, I was able to enjoy the things that I had taken for granted until leaving it, like the tube and the culinary adventures that are on offer in the refreshingly cosmopolitan setting. But it was also particularly nice to learn, in turn, the various things that I have come to appreciate about Bologna. And so today's ramblings will concern just a couple of things that Life alla Bolognese from the past three months has brought to my attention. Just three points, so bear with me!

1. I would like a coffee please - to drink, not bathe in.
This one was brought to my attention when my boyfriend dropped me a text saying that he was full after meeting a friend for coffee at Starbucks. It is worth mentioning now that he is a ravenous rugby player who could eat a person of my size for tea and still be hungry. And yet he was full after a coffee. And it's no wonder; the bloody things come in buckets the size of our head. Literally.

I'm not a fan of the big coffee chains that you come across every 2 seconds, around every corner, and on every high street anyway, but when I was back in London, I popped into the Costa next to my university for a quick caffeine fix before heading to the library. I couldn't help but laugh out loud when I saw their "large" size coffee mugs. The things have two handles on each side (probably essential given the volume and thus the weight of fluid that they carry) and are more like soup bowls - in fact, it took me a while to figure out whether they actually were soup bowls or not. Of course, there are plenty of little cafes that know their coffee and their cups, dotted around London but I now know to make it a priority to enjoy gulp-sized doses of the stuff for a couple of euros in Italy while I can.

2. What's with all the beards?
Italians do love to gossip. But this is mainly done over aforementioned thimble sized cups of coffee. In other words, yes there is gossip, but once you've swallowed your espresso, and this does not take long, it's on to bigger and better topics. I couldn't help but notice that Italians are very well informed about their own country's history and culture. They have a lot to say about its politics, its economy, its art and they love their philosophy. Coffee is for gossip but over wine is where it gets interesting. The sense of despair that a lot of Italians are feeling towards their politicians and their economy is rather clearly articulated and the more wine that goes down, the more passionate they become. It rings true with older people and students alike. What makes these late night chats with the people here even better is their bluntness. They are not afraid to say what they think, nor to ask questions (about anything and everything. And yes, sometimes they can come across as ignorant or narrow-minded, but hey, at least they've got the guts to ask.) Their lack of embarrassment makes you less embarrassed to ask questions too and this, in turn, paves the way for both parties to discuss, to debate, to question, to teach, to learn and to mull over things together. Whether you remember it or not the next day is irrelevant. Just the other evening I got an education in politics over carbonara and wine. We discussed bimbos and Berlusconi (naturally) and immigration, amongst other things, and tried to grapple with ideas much bigger than ourselves. And though I was by far the most ignorant out of the lot, I enjoyed every minute of it. Bologna is particularly packed with budding philosophers; a lot of the students are a pensive, philosophical bunch (and they have the beards to go with it too).

(As a little bonus: I also learnt the word "fricchettone" which I found amusing; it's a word that describes someone that tries to come across as nonconformist, rejecting social traditions etc. but, not really knowing enough about their ideological stance, turn out to just be rebellious in a very showy, superficial way. All of that packed into one word.)

3. Cibo cibo cibo  
Food, obviously. Novel, I know.
But you've got to hand it to them: Italians know good food.
One of my favourite weekly excursions are my trips to the Mercato della Terra (which I've mentioned before in a previous post) on Saturday mornings. I take my time to check out all the stalls, the cheeses on offer, the vegetables, the meat and the fish. The market, apart from the summer time when it is every Monday night, goes on from 9.00-13.00. For a lot of people it is not only where they load up on groceries, but the perfect excuse to spend a slow Saturday morning chatting over fried, fresh fish and pork tigelle, while drinking a glass or two (or three) of wine, free of judgement, before midday. It is a hub for friends to eat and drink and inform one another of their weekly affairs and for families to start their weekend together with a good nibble. The people behind the stalls are also great; last week I bought purple broccoli, today I got an odd looking root vegetable (its name escapes me) and on every such occasion, upon asking how to best prepare it, they always have the time to run me through some recipes before sending me on my way.
Today I bumped into a couple of acquaintances that I had met during my first house-hunting trip in Bologna before I started my year abroad. We had met at this very market; one is a Brazilian comedian of a man and the other an Italian chap, also a good laugh. I had been waiting for a while to be served while they, on the other hand, had only just arrived and so in order to jump the queue, they assumed the roles of my two husbands and I that of their polyandric Japanese wife. Yup, this morning I was a polyandrist on a grocery shop with her two husbands. That's the thing, you never know who you'll bump in to and what will become of your morning here. All in all, it is a gem for any foodie (which, let's face it, is just a nice way to refer to a glutton) who enjoys good food and even better company.

Buon appetito and Happy Saturday!

Specimen: A "Foodie"

Starbucks image from here.

Gelato Therapy

The plan was to be sat here writing a blog post having just got an exam out of the way.
Oh how naive of me to think that planning was something that people do here.

I ran to my exam venue this morning, a touch late, to discover that the exam had been moved to this time next Monday. To add insult to injury, just as I was rushing into the building, someone told me that my bag was wide open; I had been running like a lunatic down Bologna with my bag gaping open behind me (cheers to the 20 or so people I ran past who opted not to say anything). Truly truly, what balls. Che Palle. I will have you know that for the last exam I had, which was for the same module, I got to the venue 5 minutes early, only to be herded off like sheep with the rest of my classmates to a different venue. The exam started 15 minutes late. And had no time limit. And I had missed the memo that it was an open-dictionary exam, so I was permitted to use my mobile phone. This is the oldest university in Europe we are talking about; you'd think they'd have learnt a thing or two about running one over the past 925 years.

Anyway, since it turns out I still have a fair bit of revising to do so I will keep this post short and sweet. Quite literally. My top three gelato places in Bologna.

Let's start from the bottom.

3. La Sorbetteria Castiglione

La Sorbetteria Castiglione is located towards the end of Via Castiglione, towards the Giardini Margherita end. 
Though a bit on the sweet side, they have a lot of nice nutty flavours; with pralines of almonds and hazelnuts, mascarpone and coffee, and gianduja flavoured ice cream with chunks of giaduiotti in them. As far as I can tell they have also started a "gusti speciali menu" which includes flavours that are sugar-free. I have personally never tried one, but I've also seen people ordering bun-like things, which are then, I assume, filled with ice cream. Like an ice cream sandwich. If you have a sweet tooth, this is a good place to start your gelato journey.

2. Cremeria Funivia

This one was recommended to me by an ice-cream fanatic and to be honest, it pretty much ties with first place. It's a bit hidden, tucked away around a corner just opposite Piazza Cavour. Now, I am (officially) one of the most indecisive people on the planet, so it was no simple task to pick my flavours and I was slightly traumatised when I churped "Fior di Panna" out of panic, having caught the rather fed up look on the face of the lady serving me. "How boring. Should've got something else." was my initial after-thought. Until I tried it. If an ice cream shop can make their Fior di Panna as tasty as these people do theirs, they are definitely doing something right. My favourite thing from here is the affogato (ice cream popped into some freshly brewed coffee) with a scoop of Fiord di Panna or Alice, a mascarpone flavoured ice cream with a drizzle of chocolate on top.


1. Cremeria Santo Stefano

So what was the tipping point that made me crown this place number one?
Pistacchio Salato. This is my all time favourite flavour of all the gelatos I have ever had. Here, they also sell chocolate and though I am usually not one to go for chocolate flavoured cake or ice cream, theirs is worth a try.
A small, independent shop, it sits unpretentiously along Via Santo Stefano, and the people working there are always very friendly (i.e. they never pressure you to make a choice, good for indecisive people like me!) I should mention, I am currently on a no-fructose diet (N.B. diet to be taken in its original form, therefore not some weight loss fad thing), mainly for health reasons, so naturally gelato is out of the question. Since type 2 diabetes has popped up a couple of times in my family, I take coming off of the sweet stuff quite seriously... but for this pistacchio salato flavoured ice cream, well even if I was a diabetic I think I could find it in me to bend the rules a bit.

A happy bunch at Cremeria Santo Stefano

A rather impromptu post, I must admit. I had other things to write about in mind, but to keep it simple given time restraints, another review it is. On the plus side, you can now start constructing your summer gelato schedule way in advance. For once I am early!

For anyone who is interested, you can read more about why coming off of sugar is something we should all be doing here. And for those of you that think this is some sort of ploy to get you to come and visit - you are not wrong.

Ciao until next time!



Images from: 
Body in Context,
Seriouseats,
Tripadvisor

The Wrong Way is the Right Way to go

Having begun to despair at the monotony of Bologna's restaurants (don't get me wrong, the food is great, it's just that when the same list of primi piatti, usually tortellini, lasagne and the like, and slight variations of very samey secondi, keep on popping up everywhere, eventually the appeal of eating out wares off) it came as a nice surprise to stumble upon a different type of restaurant.

I came across it when my sister was visiting me and we went for a little wonder down Via del Pratello, seeing as it was her first time in Bologna and that was one of my less explored parts of the city. We wondered about in search of - well neither of us really knew what we were in search of - so we simply wondered about aimlessly, until eventually we came across a little restaurant called "Il Rovescio" (which means "backwards," or "wrong way"). What attracted us most about the place was its menu which consisted of locally produced, mainly organic, foods as well as the cosy vibes that seemed to be pouring out of its buzzing interior. For those of you that don't know me personally, I am one to spend, what some may consider, an excessive amount of time in supermarkets checking the labels of products and deliberating over their origins; I do this with food and with cosmetic products and sometimes shopping can be a bit of an ordeal. I like to cook my own food (that way you know exactly what you're putting into your mouth) and to eat healthily, and where possible/worth the extra cost, I try to buy organic/responsibly sourced products. This could explain why I am always broke. Anyway you can understand my delight when I found this place.

So this little gem is located on a little street that branches off of Via del Pratello, and the idea is that they are a "ristorante a KM 0" cioè, serve locally produced foods.
They do their grocery shopping where I do mine every Saturday morning (at the Mercato della Terra about which I will dedicate a separate post to soon) and their menus change frequently, offering whatever fruit and veg is in season (which is another of their many charms in my opinion).

They also have a little pizza place called Il Forno del Rovescio, which serves wholegrain crust pizzas (as well as normal, white ones) with no additives, organic wines and beers, and a couple of other dishes that you can take away or have delivered to your front door. I ordered a pizza from them once to give it a try and was told that mine would take a while as they had just had another order and their means of delivery is by bicycle! Luckily, Bologna is rather small so it only took about half an hour anyway!

The only down-side that comes to mind is that, when my sister and I were there, a lot of their dishes were out of stock (it sounded like they had had a bit of a fridge problem so this could be why). I do appreciate it is difficult to effectively stock up for an organically themed menu, where things no doubt tend to go off much quicker etc. but it was a bit disappointing all the same. I'd say, if you're going to a small, independent restaurant that offers organic foods, be ready for them not to be able to offer everything on the menu - and see it more as a positive thing! Worth noting that everything that was available was great.
[A dinner would cost you around 20-30 euros per person including drinks.]

So there we have it; a cosy little venue that adds a bit of a twist to traditional Bolognese food; if they claim to be backwards, then backwards is definitely the way forward.

Blogging about Bologna

Chaotic, disorganised and late - the perfect opening post for a blog contrived in Italy (which, in case you were wondering, is three months overdue). 
First things first, a couple of things you should know about me:

I, like this blog, was born in Italy and, like this blog, am chaotic, disorganised and consistently late for just about everything. I am Japanese and English, and apart from my early toddler years, have spent the majority of my childhood growing up in Japan. 
In addition to a Japanese mother and an English father, I have a sister (who is a much better writer than me and has her own blog in which she writes about life in Zurich amongst various other interesting things; you can find her here)
I am a UCL student and am on my year abroad at the University of Bologna. My blog serves as a way to ensure that I observe and absorb as much of the experience as possible, while hopefully putting forth some interesting points for you in the process.
 
Since my arrival in Italy, I have had copious amounts of pondering-time and while I have a few general things to share eventually, I think as an opening post I will focus on general first impressions of Bologna and some advice to prospective visitors.

Image from the annual Mortadella Festival held in Bologna

Bologna is a mid-small sized city, south of Milan in the Emiglia-Romagna region. It is a quick train ride away from Florence and Parma and is known for its food, its relatively secular society and left-wing politics, and it's University which was founded in 1088 (and has been given the names "La Grassa; the fat one, La Rossa; the red one, La Dotta; the learned one" for those reasons).

So let's get straight to it (as I am late for a date with my revision notes!)

The Pros: 
-Fresh veg, cheese, hams and a range of other foods available from various markets dotted around the city.
-Lower (than London) rent with a large, non-damp, fully functioning house in the city centre. 
-A generally slower pace of life, laid-back attitude towards everything (including things regarding university, worryingly enough).
-Lots of bars and boutiques to visit and an abundance of events on offer at various venues.

The Cons: 
-Poo. And wee. There is lots of it. Forget texting and walking at the same time, keep your eyes on the road! 
-A rather disorganised university system that is difficult to navigate through.
-The costliness of playing a sport or joining a gym, at least from a student perspective.

Bologna's population is student-heavy, while also having a fair amount of tourists. It therefore takes a bit of time to figure out where to eat and drink without paying the extra tourist-price but also avoiding falling to the other end of the spectrum of low standards aimed at students. In following posts I will share some recommended spots to visit and further along in the blog will indulge in sharing some of my own recent thoughts as a student and these, much to your dismay, may well be off the topic of "Bologna" and be a rambling of recent encounters, articles, talks, experiences that I have had that have left an impression on me. Hopefully these will still be of interest to you too.

A quiet afternoon in Piazza Santo Stefano

    I hereby conclude my opening post. Cin cin! 

Have you ever visited Bologna before?

Share your thoughts on the city as well!