Thanks to my terrible procrastination from lesson planning, I’ve recently come across a few other (much more professional) fellow English speaking expats blogging about Italy. Continue reading
I recently made un’altro passo (another step) into the vita italiana…or perhaps more specifically, in this case, la vita bresciana (from Brescia, my region of Italy). At my first full family meal here in Italy I was presented with horse and donkey meat, as well as an unknown, slightly stodgy yellowish substance – sound appetising yet? Continue reading
In the modern age of travel, with the huge trend in gap years and discovering one’s self abroad, most groups of friends will have at least one expat friend. Perhaps they spend just a few months away and return even more hipster than before, or perhaps they consistently jet off, reappearing with new tales, particular tastes in food, and an increasingly odd fashion sense. Continue reading
with Desperate Characters by Paula Fox
It might not be the tourist-centre of Italy, but Montichiari – only a twenty minute drive from the south-east side of Lake Garda, and forty minutes from Verona – does hold a few unique delights. One of these is Castello Bonoris, one of the most confusing, un-historic yet historical castles I have yet to visit.
Everyone knows that Italian food is the best in the world; at least, that’s what any Italian will tell you. It’s true that my taste-buds have never been left unsatisfied here, and that nearly everyone Italian household has a passion for cooking that unfortunately you don’t find so much in the pre-prepared, pre-cooked culture of Britain. However, there are some British foods that just aren’t available here, an atrocity considering they should be high up on the compulsory food list. Continue reading
After three years here, I’ve got fairly used to Italian life, “la vita Italiana”, even picking up several habits and norms which don’t fit in so well in England (see Signs I’ve Been in Italy too Long). Things which tourists always point out as strange (paying for coffee after drinking it, having shutters but no curtains, rarely having a kettle) now seem completely normal to me. That said, there are still the odd nuances that continue to strike me as so foreign, no matter how many times I confront them – mainly because of their illogicality.
I love you Italy, but there’s a few issues I’d like to bring forward. For instance, why…
As you may have noticed from brief mentions in previous posts, I’ve finally succumb to the charm and got an Italian boyfriend. I won’t lie that I was a bit uneasy about the idea. There are certain stereotypes about Italian guys that I’m sure we’ve all heard: sleazy mothers’ boys who are very romantic, yes, but are so with several women at the same time.