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For the wanderers

The thrill of a shrine find..

Oh my! Lovely readers, I can hardly contain myself! From the simplest to the most elaborate, did you know that there are countless shrines peppered throughout Italy – on exterior walls, in Grottos in the squares, along obscure pathways and by busy main thoroughfare. I love the thrill of finding them. Each one unique in both detail and the loving and devout attention bestowed upon them. Most I’ve found so far have been devoted to the Virgin Mary though various saints are also honored. I am now on a mission to capture more, camera at the ready…meanwhile enjoy those I’ve found thus far…

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Studios and shoe strings

Creating a haven in which to withdraw from the frantic pace of the world, relax and re energize is so vital to our well being isn’t it? Hence the ‘Nest’ element of the blog, and the reason for this post, for I’ve just identified, thanks to my newest holiday abode, just how easy it is to create a simple yet elegant studio on a shoestring budget! Perfect for housing a teen, a parent, a B&B or just for you. Your own little haven…your ‘man-shed’…or should that be ‘person‘-shed?

20130804-112413.jpg 20130804-112855.jpgWhereas the studio in Monterosso had only one small avenue of natural light and fresh air, making for a musty, dark abode but saved by the spectacular view from its tiny terrace, this one if full of light and fresh air. Elegant in its simplicity, comfortable and soothing to the soul. Its the white. A white that conjures up visions of crisp white Greek villas against a deep Mediterranean backdrop. Only this one’s on the Italian Riviera.

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Whitewashed ceiling and walls, white tiles, white furnishings, a splash of blue for kitchen cabinetry, simple calico swaths of fabric against the vibrant forest green of the shutters for curtains.

An old fishing boat oar of red white and blue draped across one wall, a hark to village origins. Bed linen of crisp white, cool to sun kissed skins, with just a touch of subtle dusky floral. A bathroom lined in small tiles of the same shutter green blended with a soft cream and thoughtful lighting.

But what takes it from ‘yeah so’ to ‘wow factor’ is the quality of the linens. Huge waffle weave bath sheets (yes we love our toweling but these wrap easily and dry fast!). Bed linen of brightest white and maximum thread count, essential for screaming ‘luxury’. And all finished with just a linger of Durance White Camellia pillow spray and a few strategically placed tea candles (my own little essentials). ‘Sono le cose semplici che contano’ It’s the simplest things that count.
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Corniglia and cactus toes

Cactus!

That’s what I am, cactus! Don’t you love that expression? Just trekked 4k up mountains, past cactus, through olive groves and down dales then back up more mountains to the dear little cliff-top dwelling village of Corniglia. A pathway so well travelled the erratically placed stones are shiny with wear or is that sweat?

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Breathtaking! And I’m not talking view. Though you will see that was quite spectacular by the photos, taken at intervals, for self-assurance really. Over there on that distant mountain, the reward awaits! Of the alcoholic kind.

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Meanwhile, Germans with thick brown ankles, backpacks and ski poles are zooming by. A clutch of teens in thongs (Jandals/Flipflops for the non-Aussies) are literally skipping up the path chattering away without even drawing breath. With no breath to draw of my own I bleat ‘Ciao!’ No niceties today. I pretend I’m Bear Grylls. Invincible. Nope. Not working.

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Stagger over the threshold of what I assume to be the start of the village, thrusting fist in air in defiance, I am champion!!

The rocky song running through my head I look around for a can of Solo to throw over my face and ‘slam down fast’, just to lend weight to triumph. And then I see the sign. ‘Congratulations! Your half way there’.

 

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Was it worth it? Absolutely! Did I reward myself? Yup! With a double raspberry Frappe, don’t really like Solo! The alcohol? Well, that will be my reward for floating down the 450 steps to the train station on the other side of the village without once smugly telling the tourists gasping for breath as they climb heavenward…’Congratulations! Ya half way there mate!’

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