Traveller's tales...I'm a kiwi lad working my way around the world visiting family, making new friends and gazing at old stuff and wild stuff. I'm a writer, so I'm writing about it.

Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Blog updated, on hiatus for now.

Entries on Barga, Pisa, Roma 1, Roma 2, have been posted in the September section - my travelogue of 2007 is basically complete. So what will you be seeing in 2008 here?

Well, I've been in Britain for almost two months now, and I notice my only post has been about New Zealand! Homesick? Perhaps a little. I'm still travelling though, for a good while yet.

I have had several experiences I have felt were almost deserving of a blog entry. They include: escorting a bleeding drunk youth home in Newcastle; Ceidlhs and Scottish folk music nights in Newcastle and Glasgow; visiting my great-grandparents' graves; looking for stray golf balls at Gourock Golf Club with two adolescents who claimed they were drug-dealers; packing gourmet smoked goods into hampers 14 hours a day in Oban; learning to understand the words 'hame' 'hoose' and 'fer'. My funniest story would be getting very excited seeing a magazine in a Glasgow newsagents, coloured green, titled 'The Alternative View'. Great! some counter-cultural reading! I fish for a pound in my pocket. On closer inspection the subtitle was
'the magazine for Celtic supporters that deals with the real issues'.
Of course it was about fitba', not ecology. But what kind of place has multiple magazines about a single football club?



But I can't keep writing this blog while I'm here. There are many reasons. Sadly, perhaps unavoidably, I don't feel the wide-eyed wonder that I have had all through my trip, including the first time I was here. I think wonder is vital to good travel writing. Practically, I want to save money here, which can lead to both fatigue and monotony. To boot, a lot of the rest of my time is spent interacting with my family, and you don't want to know what we get up to!

In any case, many of you are already very Britian-savvy. You know that it is becoming more multicultural by the minute (The manuals in my last job are now written in Polish and English, for example) You know that 'security measures' both state and non-state, are ubiquitous (closed circuit television is everywhere). You know that West Scotland is wild and beautiful and England is crowded.



I do encounter things that inspire me personally, that you will be interested in, but they will be expressed in other ways than this site.

I would like to say 'Ta very much!' to everyone who has skimmed, read or devoured my tangential ramblings, and especially to those who commented, or wanted to comment but couldn't manage Blogspot's sometimes labyrinthine interface.

Hopefully this blog will rise again on phoenix wings, when I leave the UK. When will that be? Next summer, probably. Where will I go?



Across country to Southeast Asia via more of Europe (Mycenae! Amsterdam! Stockholm!), Siberia, China and Japan.
Peace.

Friday, September 7, 2007

The most Scottish Town in Italy




In the evening I almost miss my stop in Fornaci di Barga (the 'furnaces' of Barga). Hungry for English words, I had been absorbed into the very porous substance of a discarded Daily Mail. Fornunately, there to welcome me and signal to the conductor as I scrambled off where two of my three British uncles: Graham and Douglas... more family and friends are gathered at the rented farmhouse up the hill. We are having a little festa in Tuscany!

What happened at Barga? We regaled the birthday girls with gifts, we visited the picturesque, walled Lucca; we quaffed massive pitchers of cheap local wine. We ate fresh figs and aged cheese and salads with spelt. The boys attacked the Hungarian sausage I brought. We heard Uncle Douglas and Aunt Sarah blag their way through Italian conversations. We plaid the violence-inducing card game Racing Demon. We shivered in the mornings and sweated in the afternoons. We expolored a wild canyon and stared at dramatic skylines.



(Hillside Barga has two official claims to fame: having the second best shilloute and being 'the most Scottish' town in Italy. The first is due to its physical geography, the second, a history of 20th century migration to and from Scotland.)

It is great to have the chance to relax in the company of people I don't have to introduce myself to, to never once talk about day-jobs, and at the same time to be in this strange, beautiful, semi-wild landscape, with such an exciting culture and history.

And too quickly it seems, the week I spend there is over - it is almost time to leave.

I visit the duomo (town church) before I leave and note good signs for my future plans. The bas-relief above the door depicts the grape harvest, and inside is both a massive statue and painting of Saint Christopher - the patron saint of Barga, as well as travellers.