Auronzo

Coming home.

I have never been here in the autumn. The colours are amazing. The rusting leaves, saffron golds, the turquoise depths of the lake in contrast. I walk in awe, every now and then seeing the russet colours of funghi popping up in shady spots. The air is crisped and clear, the water still and unruffled.

The wood piles are beginning, it's an art, a pastime. It's also Halloween and when I walk down to Bar Venezia, the kids are dressed up with their baskets to collect their lollies. I order an Italian thick hot chocolate with the works to celebrate the beauty of this season.

The next day is All Saints Day and this small village is crowded. I go to Bar Venezia after wandering around the lake and I have to head upstairs to find a table. I try the Bombardino, a drink for the colder season, half Advocaat and half brandy, topped with whipped cream. Perfect.

I spend a few days enjoying the autumn air, hanging out with my late husband's sister, dreaming of painting the apartment and putting my own touches to it. Then I'm off to Trieste on my way to Slovenia, new horizons.

I catch the train from Venice. The train station is beautiful. I take a selfie and then walk through the town to my hotel. In Italy they seem to be doing up old apartments into mini hotels without breakfast. I love the staircases.

The town is on the Slovenian/Croatian border, an ancient port at the end of the Silk Road. It's an elegant mixture of styles and the Trieste occupants consider themselves separate to Italy. After leaving my bags, I head into the main square for my tour of beautiful old cafes. Caffe Degli Specchi began it's life in 1832. I order a macchiato and a dark choc shot to go with it. There's an Austrian feel about the place with an Italian twist. Whipped cream is the star of most drinks here I notice. The well dressed matrons are in serious winter gear, a lot of fur collars, big coats, boots, hats, gloves and scarves. I am seriously underdressed in my spring trench.

I wander the streets, finding other cute cafes, one in which I stop for a late afternoon Prosecco (everyone else is doing it, so it must be the time), with a tiny biscuit topped with hazelnut mousse.

Later that afternoon, in starvation mode from all the walking, I try to find something open but this is not a tourist town and nothing opens till 7, which is really only aperitivo hour so there's only one thing I can do...go to another beautiful bar, Antico Caffe Torinese. My Hugo spritz which is elderflower liqueur and prosecco, is served with 3 aperitivi which will keep me going to dinner time.

Then I walk to the Grand Canal of Trieste where the Italians are doing their last minute promenade before dinner and I find a lovely seafood restaurant to end my first day here.

Next day I'm on the old cafe hunt again. The first is Caffe Marco with it's Venetian mask theme and warm interior, perfect for a rainy, grey day. It was founded in 1914 and became a haunt for writers. There's a few nerdy looking people typing on their computers as I watch the handsome barista make coffee from an ancient machine. I have the local pastry called a Presniz, a strudel type pastry filled with pine nuts, cinnamon, cloves and dark chocolate which is delicious. It also has a bookshop within. Perfect.

Then off to Caffe Tommaseo, the oldest cafe, founded in 1830. Another place for intellectuals and revolutionaries. Another day, another two macchiatos, this one in Trieste style served with whipped cream and a jam biscuit. Then of course, I have to walk off the caffeine.

I come across a small local museum with an exhibition on Tyrolean photos and art and there's free food and drinks and it's good. Local cheese, olives, crumbed eggplant, fried pumpkin flowers. Appetite seen to, I wander over to see the ancient Roman theatre and past the rain mirrored square, beautiful sculptures and buildings.

That night, I eat close to home. Aperitivo first because the restaurants are closed and I'm starving and then pizza with a bitter green - friarielli and pork sausage flavoured with fennel with a harbour view. Next to me is a couple on a first date I should imagine. He eats everything they order, she picks at her food and drinks a lot. They are both so glamorous and well dressed, I feel like I'm in a film. And with that, Trieste is done. I'm off to Slovenia tomorrow.

Catania to Modena.

From chaos to quiet sophistication.

Back to Catania to a house hotel room up three flights of stairs! My room is called the Silk Road, evidently the famous or infamous trade route passed through Sicilian ports. In the 1300's it was responsible for spreading the Black Plague from Asia into Europe resulting in the deaths of 50 million people! The room is quirky and I love the old tiled mosaics around the sink.

I head out to find somewhere to eat and pass the beautiful artisan shops and wish I could carry more home with me. The glass cannoli are kitsch and amazing! Little carts selling pomegranate juice are so colourful.

I come across a restaurant in a little square with a buffet for 6 euro and I add stuffed squid to the men, it's amazing. The night is balmy and dark by now. The waiters so professional and attentive. A blue eyed blonde English girl is sitting across from me and I venture to ask if she also is a solo female traveller and she tells me her tale. She's a dancer on a ship and she was coming here with her boyfriend and they broke up just before they were due to leave so she decided to come alone. She's loving it and the waiters are extra attentive around her table.

Next morning early I hit the markets to check out on the autumn produce before leaving. The smell of roasted capsicums, white sweet onions and eggplant fill the air. The old men are leaning over the balcony watching the theatre of the seafood market below. Noise and hustle, shouting and bargaining fill the air. If Caravaggio were here, he'd feel at home, he'd just wonder about the choice of clothes. The medieval feels are everywhere in this town that Mt Etna has overlooked since it's birth.

In the afternoon, I'm off to the airport and Modena to catch up with the daughter. Upon arrival at Bologna, all the trains have been changed so it's tricky to re-do my ticket but the man at the counter guesses I'm Australian and we become best friends and it's all fixed. His Uncle lives in Melbourne and he hopes to go one day. It seems most Italians have a relative residing in Australia. To them, it's the promised land as Italy is for me. Further fields are always greener.

I find out I'm staying in a slightly illegal place . A man meets me at eight and shows me into my room which feels a bit odd as there's no one else in the place but at least there's a lock on the door. It's an old converted apartment with two rooms and it's done up in an old fashioned way with a bowl of clementines on the table. But the next day when I cook up a meal in the kitchen and invite my daughter and her friend for lunch and the owner turns up, he's furious because I'm not supposed to have visitors. Some antiquated Italian ruling he tells me or he's probably just not paying tax. Fair enough.

It's full on autumn gear here. In Sicily, we were still in our summer clothes but Modena has made a huge shift to winter garments and I have none with me. When I go for coffee, people are in quilted coats, scarves, jeans and boots. I shall have to shop, I'm getting some strange looks.

That night we celebrate my late husband's birthday with a meal at the cheaper version of the very expensive Francescana 59 for 50 euro a head. It's beautiful and we have a starter of hazelnut savoury mousse with parmesan froth, a tiny potion of trout with a sun dried tomato paste, burnt capsicum soup and other delicacies. We have a long walk back home and are grateful for it after consuming 7 courses.

I have one more wander through Modena on my last day, enjoying the coloured porticoes, the piazza, the weekend antique markets as the next time I come here it will be to help the daughter move all her things back to Auronzo after Uni finishes. It's a bitter sweet parting as I've loved this elegant town.

Ortygia.

Island of gods.

We students have all taken to having a macchiato with a pastry at break, caffeine and sugar are becoming more and more necessary to get through our classes! One afternoon, I go on my own to the archeological park. The heat is heavy, the back of my neck slick with sweat. There's a well preserved Greek theatre and a Roman amphitheatre built into the rock hill. A Dionysus Ear cave that Carravaggio, the great Renaissance painter, named because it is virtually shaped like an ear with amazing acoustics. Exhausted I make it back for a pear and ricotta gelato and a nap. Life is hard enjoying the Sicily's bounty.

My friend and I meet in the main square at night. We've found a lovely bar/restaurant overlooking the church that was built within the 5th century Greek Temple of Athena, the columns of which still adorn the outside walls and are lit at night. We have a Cosmopolitan with fresh mirtilli and meet up with the younger ones. We're missing our New York friend as she has left the island and she had some great love life stories that kept us enthralled during her visit. I dine on a pasta with swordfish, capers, mint and parsley. Simple but tasty.

The next day I go and see Caravaggio's The Burial of Santa Lucia. My New York friend told me it was so moving that she cried. Caravaggio had escaped from prison on Malta, fleeing to Syracuse where he was given the commission in 1608. It's a strange church and the painting is set in such bad lighting that it was hard to see. This saint gave to the poor in gratitude for her mother's miraculous healing until her suitor accused her of being a christian and of infidelity and she refused to recant. Her punishment was to be dragged to a brothel. Another miracle occurred and she couldn't be moved from the spot where she stood but there ended the miracles as she was killed there with a knife to her throat. The church was built on that spot after she was made a saint. Maybe that's why it had such an eerie feeling. Carravaggio's painting is full of muscled men surrounding her tiny body, an odd part of her story to paint.

I need something to cheer me after that and I go to the Condorelli bar in the square and have pistachio granita which was amazing and I buy some of their famous nougat encased in different flavoured chocolates, my favourites being pistachio, lemon and orange. I then make my way back home via the sea wall. Groups of men are down below but to access the swimming area you have to climb over the fence and down a ladder! That wouldn't be allowed in the nanny country of Australia!

I lunch for 14 euros ($20 Australian). Baby prawns with pepperoni and parsley served with crusty bread topped with herbs, salad and wine. I chat with a Ukrainian woman who is also travelling alone and loving the freedom it allows you, not to have to worry about other's needs, something we agree that women do constantly.

I meet up later that night with a lovely German artist who has joined our school. I find her sitting on the steps of the Duomo surrounded by kids, dogs, singers and people enjoying the evening passegiata. There's a full moon perched just above the Carravaggio church and we wander around the back streets, checking out the amazing galleries and art work. We eat at Trattoria da Mariano that was recommended. The waiter there is charming and flirty and used to live in Melbourne so he reminisces to me but he wouldn't return he said, Sicily is the place to be.

Day after day we swim to combat the relentless heat. There's a boardwalk that they put up in the summer to soak up the sun and towards the end of my time here, they take it down. Autumn is arriving.

On the weekend, we meet up at a flea and vegetable market. It's autumn, chestnuts are roasting on braziers, tiny pears, persimmons, pumpkins and mandarins are everywhere. We eat later at Al Divino al Mare, cumin flavoured tuna balls, caponata and a Parmigiana with sardines. It's hard to get a bad meal here.

New week, new people, new teacher! It's not easy for an introvert like me, even my friend finds it difficult. This teacher has to be an over-the-top Leo. She is making us speak more than any of the others and we are all so shy and nervous. Machiatos are needed at break, we all make a quick exit to the bar. The new batch of students want to join us for lunch but we just want to be alone after the stress of using our brains more than ever before. We make our excuses.

Our teacher is elegant, slim and slightly crazy, rolling her R's like an actress. She pushes us beyond our comfort zones. My friend and I become nervous and fearful as we enter. I'm eating more pastries than I've ever consumed with the strong deadly macchiato at morning tea. I have Raviolina, which is a fried pastry filled with warm ricotta and chocolate. It gets me through the rest of the class but then my friend and I just want to be alone without outsiders and so we sneak off quickly for a lunch that involves wine nowadays. Later we meet for an amazing dinner at Sicilia Tavola, octopus stew, amazing caponata and more wine. On our way back we pass the house that overlooks the Temple of Apollo. There's a man there that writes romances and has a free museum. Every time we go by, he offers to show it to us. Life is never boring on this tiny island.

Our teacher continues to keep us on our toes. She's so dramatic and her red lips are a work of art. She's unmarried, nearly 50, runs to keep fit and never cooks at home. She reveals all this about her life and we finally bond over the fact that when she travels, she carries her lipstick bag on her person in case she loses her luggage. I totally get that! On the way back home every day, we pass by the pasticcerias with their amazing array of marzipan fruit, tiny edible art works. As the season changes, so do the fruits shown.

We are barely coping with our class and I decide not to stay on after asking if we can change teachers and being told no. Our teacher is all over the place and goes off on tangents and we are all lost. We can't wait for lessons to end. My friend and I are drinking more now. We meet for aperitivo in the main square trying out the bars. We go one night to the Beyonce cafe. Evidently not long ago, the singer herself, fresh from her yacht, dined here with her entourage.

We find a great taverna by the seaside. The food is fabulous. Fish risotto, little eggplant timbales, tiny arancini and a crunchy hazelnut semifreddo. We wander home, guided by the fullness of the moon.

Saturday we hire a car and take the kids with us to Taormina. The night before there was a small earthquake and Etna is smoking, a grey wandering plume fills the sky.

It's my ex partner's birthday today, we have had no contact for a couple of months now and not so long ago we were here together. I start to feel slightly anxious and get a migraine and wander off to have a machiato, a shot of coffee cures a migraine within minutes for me. We meet up for a lunch of arancini; mine is fennel, pine nuts and raisins and then we're off to Isola Bella.

We walk down a long flight of steps, at the end of which, my legs are shaky but the pebbly beach is beautiful. We swim in the crystal clear water and our young Democrat said it's like the last day of summer family vacation. He's so sweet, they all are and I'll miss the camaraderie that we've had over the last few weeks. On the way back, he plays Sober Up, it's for you two, he says and we laugh, my friend and I. Our teacher certainly has been the source of our increase in alcohol consumption.

That night we dine together, it will be for the last time for me in Ortygia. I have mussels with gorgonzola sauce and homemade ciabatta near the market and walk back for the last time to my little studio. The next morning, we have our last breakfast and then I'm off to Catania on my way back to Italy.

What an amazing three weeks it's been since I arrived here! To spend that amount of time in one place, to see the seasonal changes, to eat the amazing variety of foods, (below was a basil pannacotta), to see that cities can be in the midst of decay and still be immeasurably beautiful, to meet people that I hope to meet up with again, has been truly magical.