Genova Today

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RAIN SET IN UNTIL END NOVEMBER

That’s right folks, it has predicted (according to the captain) that it will rain in Genova until the end of November, although the weather prediction says otherwise http://uk.weather.com/weather/10day-ITXX0031. This so called "forecast", however, will not deter social lives as the weekend ahead is said to be debaucherous and everyone attending should bring rain coats or umbrella’s and probably helmets. This news also yields a possible no-show by the boss which means freedom for the rest of winter. We are on stand-by and will keep you updated.

CHEF TO RETURN

Bruce, our South African-born chef, is said to return on Sunday the 21^st of October for an undecided period of time due to boredom, both on his side and the side of the crew. Thank goodness because I fear my secretly (and surprisingly) good culinary skills are earning me the name of cook for the winter and its just too stressful I tell you! I will now also finally be able to get my Charmaine* on in accordance with aforementioned debaucherous weekend.

EXTRA-CURRICULA's

My search for a yoga centre has sadly bared no fruit and, although I continue to keep my hopes up that perhaps I might get a reply to my class inquiry, I feel I am forced to join the City Gym which Al and Ruben are addicted to. I like to look at it as a crew bonding opportunity and a way to keep the muffin out of my muffin-top during the winter. I went for a try out and I must say there aint no gym like an Italian gym. Step class was hilarious and Boxing kicked my ass, but had the best instructor! He cant speak English unfortunately so Im gonna be hitting them Italian language books hard!

Cervinia

There is also talk of snowboarding/skiing sessions in the upcoming weekends in the mountains of Cervinia. If the snow has started falling is a different question. Nevertheless I look forward to making a fool of myself whilst attempting to become a pro snowboarder.

Gin and Tonic night also seems to be catching on. It is a night randomly picked during the week where I sporadically decide to have a Gin and tonic with whoever will join. This week it was Tuesday night and mention must go out to Simon from Happy Days for educating me on the history of Malta.

On that note, more intelligent reading shall be done so as to involve oneself (me) more in conversations such as the aforementioned one about Malta. “Wow” and “That’s so hectic” can only keep the conversation flowing for so long. (Also note to self, buy a kindle).

HOLIDAY ADVENTURES

I have also officially booked my ticket to Ireland for the 21^st of December and am going to be staying with Tara, a friend from home. I am way too excited considering it is only October and cant help but picture a “P.S. I Love You” type scenario, although without the dying husband part. So more just the part of falling hopelessly in love with a handsome Irishman, and him also falling equally in love with me – that part is quite imperative.

And finally, my broken heart has forced me to spew out a poem to honour a friend that I have lost, explain the waning of relationships and how love just makes you feel shit in general. Enjoy.

To Have Loved and Lost

The sting of winter hits like a thousand knives,

Cutting, cutting, slowly cutting.

The wounds are deep but there is no blood,

Yet is feels like my body is drained of warmth and life.

The tree’s are bare, there’s no-one there,

I wander and wonder why it had to end,

Why the tree’s and blooms we bother to tend.

Year in, year out, they always die,

Their beauty just a passing sigh,

A whisper of what could be,

An empty promise of what you cant keep.

My heart is ice and my eyes are dry,

I have no more tears to cry,

The twinkle I held dear in my eye,

Left without even saying goodbye,

I look back and see the signs,

I really was alone the whole time.

Disillusioned by a giddy love,

Only from one heart and never enough.

And so I sit and feel a fool, for ever having loved you.

*Charmaine (v;ad): Refers to one Charmaine Kerry Crouch. used to describe actions of  raucous proportions, includes but is not limited to, dancing on tables, skinny dipping, running around (naked or otherwise), being the life of the party, causing mayhem etc. Usually linked with drinking (up to and including numerous bottles of wine, vodka and other alcohols). Can be done during the week or on weekends. 

Rocking the Crazies

Home really is where the heart is and there is nothing better than coming home after 6 months knowing that you have money to spend, friends and family to see and good times to be had.

Me and Lanie

Dad and puppy Nietschka

I arrived at JHB international and burst into tears at the sight of my mother (because I was so happy to see her). I went home, hugged my cat and lay on my bed, it felt so good. I visited the spectacular Botanical Gradens with my aunt, cousin, mom and second mom. I got to see Lanie – not under the best circumstances (RIP Leila) but it was great to see her again, always the first to pop in when I get back! I got to see all my school mates at a braai organised by one of my oldest friends, Nikita Saber – we’ve been friends for 17 years! I jammed at Tiger Tiger with the most awesome group of boys I know and even got to meet some Aussie rugby players!

Me and Mom

Botanical Gardens

Then, to spoil my fun, I had to do what I came back to do – renew my visa. Dum dum dum (dramatic music sounding in the background), because as every South African passport holder who wants to go ANYWHERE knows, you simple cant buy a plane ticket and leave. No, you have to give a book size stack of papers proving that you are indeed an upstanding citizen (which I am) and will be returning to your country after a limited amount of time (which I am not). Anyway this time around I had the right papers but still didn’t get the visa I wanted….endless frustration I tell you! So any EU or British passport holders, do not take those things for granted, you have no idea how easy your life is.

Because this time around I had got the visa process (mostly) right, I realised that I had 2 weeks left in SA to play, and as everyone knows, when I have time to play, I pick Cape Town as my playground. In a weird coincidence my brother’s friends’ aunt was on the same flight as me and gave me a lift to Stellenbosch where the adventure began. Staying at my brothers place was definitely more bearable than usual thanks to my OCD complex leading to me providing them with cleaning products which had, suspiciously, lasted a whole year.  Anyway as it was test time Stellies wasn’t its usual raucous self, which was probably not to my detriment. Spent some quality time with my brother and cousin, watched some rugga, drank beer, ate biltong and walked around with no shoes. It was a good couple of days but then it was time to head to Cape Town. Thanks must go to Mike Ceruti for the lifts, shelter and the Mandela-Rhodes place and entertainment during my stay, which was also contributed to by Bronwyn Morris. I got to catch up with an old flame, another school friend and my old flat mate. It made for a great week.

And then….there was this thing that just kept getting in my face, it was everywhere I turned and eventually I couldn’t ignore the signs any longer. So, my plane ticket scheduled for Saturday was excitedly and also bank-breakingly {new word} changed to Sunday. Ticket was bought and plans were made. I was officially going to Rocking the Daisies with Bronnie, her flattie, Randall and the Herms girls. I then got a call from my blood, who was trying to make plans with me for the weekend. To solve the dilemma of me being in Darling and him in Stellies, I got him a ticket. So now the weekend crew was complete.

Darling

So finally Friday came, and what should happen, possibly the worst thing ever, the car we were going to RTD in started smoking from the engine and this was accompanied by a foreboding  electric smell. After opening the bonnet for closer inspection we agreed that we had no idea what we were looking at but that the car was most definitely undriveable {another new word}. This was not ideal but thanks to a lot of tears and sympathy at the VW workshop, we hired a Yaris, cheap cheap. This was one of those truly significant moments where I truly felt all grown up. So up we packed and 5 of us plus luggage, tents and groceries and off we went. After quite a smooth drive and a less than smooth wait in traffic to get in, we finally made it and headed into the camping area. It was unbelievable packed and we found our campsite located a bit too close to the toilets. Later we realised this was only really a problem when the poo truck came. Nevertheless we didn’t plan on spending much time there considering the amazing line-up and attractions that the festival held.

Shanty Town

Me and Bron

After a hubbly session which resulted in some blisters on my leg due to unnecessary pipe tugging, we headed to the main stage to check out what was going on. We managed to see Machineri which had a few good tunes but were a bit too heavy for my taste. Next was December Streets which was definitely a favourite. Unfortunately, because of aforementioned car troubles we missed Short Straws, Two Minute Puzzle and Beatenberg, all definitely worth a listen.

After a large night and not so much sleeping, especially because we were situated on a fairly main thoroughfare, among other x-rated reasons, the next morning was mostly spent waiting in numerous lines for much needed coffee and showers in the Daisy Den (specifically equipped with hot water, hair dryers and mirrors for those not so hippy hipsters). After which we headed back to our stomping ground to see Trenton and Free Radical. We then decided to visit the comedy tent but arrived a couple of hours early and only realised about an hour into waiting to off we went again and I believe we saw The Rudimentals but its hard to tell. My dear brother then led me to the drunk side and roped me into the “eco-friendly”/slightly degrading task of collecting a cup full of stompies to trade for a full can of Black Label. After some more pointless shenanigans and some stuff I cant really recall we enjoyed a smashing performance (as always) by Desmond and the Tutu’s. Some electro tent vibes and some jamming in a tent that looked like a shanty town we headed over to the much anticipated Bloc Party performance. Besides the fact that at this point I had pretty much no idea where anyone I knew was (I later found out my brother had wandered into a vineyard and was reliving his lunch time meall), I thoroughly enjoyed myself. The performance was electric and the crowd was pulsing with energy. The night continued in a similar fashion and did not stop until morning.

Main Stage

Tent view

All-in-all the performances I saw, and remember seeing, were outstanding and all deserve a YouTube search. The next day we engaged in the painful task of packing up in the rain. I then realised that, oh no, my flight was not far off and we hadn’t even exited the farm yet. I filled the car with tension on the drive to the airport. Thank goodness just made it because my mom and bank would have been less than impressed had I missed my flight. I ended up flying with my high school Maths teacher and the December Street’s guys – and yes I did get star struck. Finally made it home and enjoyed my last home cooked dinner before another flight the next day.

Me and the best brother in the world, Siemon Smit

This blog entry is dedicated to all my amazing friends and family who never fail to warm my heart and make me wonder why I left home.