I’ve been purposely neglecting this blogette over the last few weeks. It’s not a case that I have abandoned it – more a case of trying to implement a quality control system. I won’t pretend it’s to maintain an air of mystery – people who know me, would laugh were I to tell them about my resemblance to Austin Powers.
I don’t write about fashion, or craft beers, or about knitting your own sanity. I tend to write only about my observations on life and the people around me (while maintaining a stone-face in person), in the period since I’ve slunk back to Ireland.
If you’re not writing about a specific topic or issue, but rather giving vent to your mental diarrhoaea (I’m pretty certain that I have spelled that word incorrectly) then there will inevitably come a point where you come to the realisation that the mental clutter that’s been pinging around in your head has been cleared somewhat, and a bit of peace and quiet can prevail again.
So I have kept schtum.
However today I felt a little pang. A gentle yearning to unburden some thoughts.
You see today I go to Italy.
I’ve been to Italy once before – to a town called Alba, in the north of the country. It is an incredibly beautiful village located between Milan and Turin and is famous for its truffles. I travelled there with work several years ago.
How things stay the same. For my 2nd trip to Italy I am going to a region located about 100km inland to the south of Rome. Again it is a work trip. Instead of the truffle capital, this time I am staying in a hotel on an industrial estate, en route to Naples.
It will be grey. There will be meetings. Many meetings. Oh so many, many meetings. The thinking will be blue-sky, while the actual sky will have smog. My thoughts will be outside the box, while I will be sleeping in a box room in a soulless chain hotel. We will be picking the low hanging fruit in a business sense, even though real fruit is only ever trucked into the grim estate.
On the plus side however there will be meals . And what I do know is that Italy is a country that takes its food seriously. And that even if the industrial landscape looks like the seventh circle of hell, the fire from said seventh circle will be used to sear and braise and pan-fry food of the most delicious taste.
Bring on the pasta baby.