That August feeling

Living in Treviso if you weren’t possessed of a calendar or the kind of mobile phone that is increasingly organising your life you would still know when it was the first of August.  As soon as the date ticks over from July 31st into August a small army of dormant road workers rouse themselves from their hibernation and rip the hell out of the Treviso streets.   The usually peaceful city erupts in the noise of jack hammers and diggers and driving becomes an adventure as you wonder if you will ever make it past the endless detours and actually get out of the city.  August is the designated road work and general housekeeping month due to the fact that it also coincides with the annual mass exodus from Treviso.    

Unlike anything I have experienced in my non student life Italy has a very marked holiday day period.  The heat and the incredible humidity makes life in the city a bit of a trial meaning that residents take the opportunity to get out of town to more pleasant environments.  Over the last few weeks my students conversation has turned to their plans for August which either involves going to their house in the mountains, going to their place at the beach or going to Sardinia.   As soon as August hits the exodus starts the city begins to feel empty – this weekend the mass departure will happen leaving a ghost city behind.  Many of the businesses close as well, causing much consternation to those of us who are still here and are unused to businesses shutting their doors for one day at Christmas let alone a two or three week period.  With the stifling heat and the ghost like quality my over active imagination can’t help but think that in this period Treviso feels like a place where the some kind of nuclear disaster has cleansed it of its human population leaving the buildings as monuments to their former occupants.  Occasionally you may spot the odd post apocalypse survivor scuttling between shadows – well I did say I have an overactive imagination. 

For those of us without a holiday home in fresher climbs these few weeks are frustrating.  Your favourite bars are closed and there’s no one about to drink with anyway.  In Venice the problem is exacerbated with many of the good bars closed and the spike in tourist numbers resulting in a higher concentration of tourists in fewer venues.  Any relief from the heat and humidity that a museum visit would bring (although I do visit galleries and museums to see the exhibits one can’t deny that they often have awesome air conditioning) is negated by the sheer number of sweaty people disturbing your contemplation. 

What to do in this period given that your work has dried up and there’s not much to do in the city and there aren’t people to do it with?  Well make like the locals and get out of town is a good bet.  While I’d love to go down south to Sicily or Puglia the fact that they will be packed and I resent paying high season prices puts me off.  There is also the not so small matter of me having to find a job and a home meaning that relaxing on a beach is a bit of an unaffordable luxury at the moment.  In a couple of weeks the holiday period will be over Treviso will start to populate again and thoughts will turn to the end of summer and the coming Autumn – I hope that I’ll have worked out a few things by then.       

Goodbye casa del mago

When locals ask me where I live and I explain that I’m in that cute little palazzo near the university the standard response is – “La casa del mago?”  My little building is famous in Treviso for once being home to a TV magician and no one can quite believe that the mago has given way to this little hobo. As well as being the former abode of a minor celebrity the little palazzo is also the most picturesque residence in Treviso – the downside of which is regularly opening your front door to find tourists photographing your building (not the best of surprises on a Sunday morning when you’re just nipping out for milk.)   Small as my apartment is it has a bucket load of character but tonight my apartment doesn’t feel like home – more like an empty shell.  My clothes are packed, the fridge almost empty and I’ve donated the contents of my lovingly collected spice cupboard to T and E.  After 16 months I’ve come to the end of my time in this little place.  

   

When I took the apartment last year I really didn’t give much thought to how long I would be here – I just needed to get out of where I was staying and took the cheapest central place I could find. It was also a bit of a bonus to find the other apartments in the building empty – I really had the place to myself.  I’d never lived alone before and was curious to try it in what was a new and exciting place.  Prior to this place I’d been moving pretty constantly for a few years so I really didn’t imagine staying in one spot so long.  There have been so many delights to solo living; setting up the kitchen just the way I like it, not having to worry about disturbing other people, knowing that when I come home and shut the door the place is mine and of course not having to worry about my state of dress. 

Naturally there have been times when I’ve missed having a flatmate – someone to make you a cup of tea when you come home tired, to watch a movie with, to talk you down from a frustrating day and to nurse you when you’re sick (have a hangover.) But these things aside living alone has much to recommend it. 

Despite my best efforts over the year I seem to have amassed a crap load of stuff.  When I arrived in Italy I came with two suitcases (admittedly they were heavy enough to blow the Qantas baggage allowance.)  During these last few days of packing I seem to find endless things to pack.  More than once I’ve cursed my book habit and now vow to go digital in the near future.  Looking at the stuff I have to move tires me and I almost convince myself to stay out of sheer laziness.  In the immediate future I’m going to couch surf with friends and then – well who knows.

Farewell my little home

When I look back and peaceful nights at home, the meals I’ve cooked and the friends I’ve hosted I realise that I’ve been really happy here.  For a time it really was a home and I'm going to miss this place.  I'm not however going to miss nearly getting killed by a car speeding round the blind corner every time I walk out of the gate.  My only regret is that I never got round to having that aperitivo in the front yard that I was always planning.   I’m going to miss the soothing sound of the canals on either side of the building, having a kitchen to myself, and not having to worry about my state of dress.  As I write this I have no idea of where I’m ultimately going I only hope it will be as good to me as this place has been.   

Radicculous

Every week on our – would rather have our fingernails removed without the aid of painkilling drugs than do this – journey to the mineral powder company we take a road called the “Strada del Radicchio.”  Yes the road is named after a bitter red vegetable that is synonymous with this part of Italy.

We all know (at least that is the assumption I’m working on) that different areas of Italy are famous for different wines and different dishes but the regions are also famed for local vegetables and here in the Veneto it’s radicchio that rules supreme.  Before I came here I only thought of it as a much loved salad ingredient and only knew of a single variety but my time in Treviso has been a bit of a radicchio learning curve. 

There are a bewildering number of varieties of the vegetable and every town in the state seems to lay claim to one.  The round version that is most readily available in Australia known at Radicchio di Choggia – a small town on the Venetian mainland.  A pale variety is the claimed by Castelfranco, a small town near Treviso, slightly further afield  Trieste has its own radicchio and course there is a Radicchio di Treviso which looks like an oversized red endive. Every Autumn the coming back into season of radicchio is a cause of major celebration and many town piazzas are carpeted in the stuff welcoming it back into culinary lives of the people. According to my sources (uncle Wiki) radicchio has been cultivated in the region since the since, at least, the fifteenth century and recently farmers in the area have sought to have the certain varieties given protected geographical status (whatever that means.)  In fact the famous red colouring is a relatively modern occurrence with a Belgian agronomist (whatever that may be) engineering the pigmentation.

I’ve always loved the vegetable for its bitter taste and deep red colour and it was rare salad that didn’t involve some radicchio.   Since my arrival in the Veneto I have been introduced to the many other uses of the vegetable.  Indeed at times it feels almost as any dish is incomplete without a radicchio component, it’s in lasagne, risotto, in pasta dishes, on pizzas,  in sandwiches, on chicheti (venetian tapas) and the list goes on.  Being here for a while renders you at the mercy of the stuff – it really is everywhere, so much so a good few of my expat friends have reached a stage of Radicchio overload and refuse to eat any more.  T who has been here for two years now can barely look at the stuff let alone eat is.  I hope never to get to that stage and intend to broaden my radicchio repertoire beyond salads – I’m currently wondering what curried radicchio would be like..... 

P.S. credit for the title of this post goes to JH - I blatantly ripped it off him.

Treviso

I haven't found much on the history of this but
legend has it that it once was a wine fountain.

It’s a cold morning here in Treviso.  Yesterday the temps were at almost Raji non function level but I did manage to get to Venice for a few hours of frozen carnival fun.  Today I’ve woken to a white world thanks to an overnight dumping of snow.  I getting close to my one year anniversary as a Treviso resident and it struck me that I haven’t written about the town that for now I call home.

Twinned with Griffith in Australia, Neuquen in Argentina, Sarasota USA, Guelph in Canada, about 3000 people live inside the medieval walls.  Sitting on the river Sile, the city of Tarvisium was declared a municipium by the Romans in 89 BC.  The history of the city is typically one of changing alliances variously falling under in no particular order the Lombards, Byzantium, the Frankish empire, Charlemagne, the Austrians and of course Venice under whom the cities fortifications were built.

St Liberalis is the patron saint of the city.  The legend of St Liberalis hails from somewhere around the 10^th century.  Fearing for safety of Christianity in the face of threats from Arianism and paganism Liberalis set off on a quest to find the Bishop Heliodorus who had educated him in the Christian faith.   Heliodorus had retired to an island in the lagoons near Altino and was living life as a hermit.  During his journey Liberalis while was asleep in a church an angel came to him in his dream urging him on in his quest and announcing his imminent death. Liberalis continued on his journey but was unable to reach his mentor’s island and decided to retire to an island and live the life of a hermit himself.  He soon fell ill and died.  Is it just me or is this a bit lame as far as saintly endeavours go?

Today Treviso is famous for Benetton whose founder hails from the city.  There is also a strong claim for Treviso being the birthplace of Tiramisu.  Treviso is a quiet little place – not much happens here and I can imagine it being deathly for teenagers.  I find it strange that I have found myself in this place where nothing happens and stranger still that I am enjoying the quiet life.  It’s a world away from my Melbourne life of Bands, Bars, galleries, backyard barbies and street festivals.  Here in Treviso I enjoy having the time I never seemed to have in Melbourne.  While being small (it takes about 20 minutes to walk, at slow pace from one end to the other) it is beautiful I always seem to notice something new in my wonderings. 

The High St

The centre of Treviso

Piazza Dei Signori

Cavalieri, Knights in English 

Loggia dei Cavalieri

One of the city gates

 

The moat