DIET ALONE DOES NOT EXPLAIN ITALIAN LONGEVITY

I was recently introduced to an elderly Italian lady, who turned out to be the mother of a friend. She looked very elegant, not a hair in a wrong place, well dressed and slim. She was well over 70, but if she would have told me that her age is 60, I would have totally believed her. I also know another lady, who lives on her own, walks without any difficulties and seems to be in excellent physical health in general. Every day she leaves her apartment to have a walk, looking like she has just come out from a beauty salon with perfect make-up and hair. I was genuinly surprised when she told me her age: 83. Elderly Italian men also seem to be well preserved. My favourite butcher's shop is run by a gentleman,who I suspect is close to 90. 

  It is often said that the Mediterranean diet is the reason for longevity. Lots of fruity olive oil, fresh vegetables, herbs and fruit every day plus couple of glasses of red wine with a meal. A good, healthy diet is certainly a factor. 

  But there are other reasons, too.  

  Elderly people are an inseparable part of a larger community here. They go to shops, they stop to say "ciao" to friends, they talk in small groups on street corners every afternoon. They know everyone's family histories because in general people don't move very often but stay in the same neighbourhood several decades. They work way past official retirement age, especially, if it is a family business. 

  Ladies go to dance classes and walk up mountains. They might think about marrying again after 70. 

  Elderly people use local buses to the extent where all the seats meant for invalids are already taken by the most deserving cases and there might be elderly men and women supported by walking sticks standing. I have often seen an elderly person sitting on a balcony or watching out of the window to the street, observing passers-by. 

   When the time comes, I wish I will be like them: moving, shaking and passionately screaming one word - life! 

GIRO D'ITALIA WAS HERE!

Italian flags and pink balloons were flying high in the Ligurian Riviera and Genoa today, when the Giro d'Italia cyclists showed who are the true kings of the road. They were welcomed by cheering crowds who were shouting words of encouragement and applauding to the fast pedalling group trying to complete stage 11 of the race today.

The route started in Collecchio and finished in Savona, total of 249 kilometres. We managed to get a glimpse of them in Nervi around 2. 40 PM. Luckily our neighbours have a balcony facing the street and we all took positions, cameras ready, just on time: it was all over in 20 seconds!

 There is clearly an enourmous organisation behind this race and this could be appreciated both while waiting for the cyclists to appear and when they had become tiny spots on the road.

Even though the whole moment was over in matter of seconds, there was a feeling of a carneval in the air long time after the cyclists were gone!

CATS ARE THE NATION'S FAVOURITE PETS

I love cats, but cannot have one in the apartment because a) our rental contract stipulates that pets are not allowed and  b) I have become allergic to hair in animals. In the past our family has had both cats and dogs in large numbers, but the circumstances were very different in Africa, where our pets were able to walk in and out of the house freely. 

  Soon after moving to the new apartment I realised that there are at least three cats, who come and go to our nearest rooftop to enjoy the sun. They can be seen on a particular part of the roof almost every day. I don't know who owns them, but these cats are one of the largest specimens I have ever seen. Well fed with shiny coats, too. I have tried to observe them discreetly, because they are not very trusting of strangers. They are actually positively hostile, as cats often are (until you start feeding them, which I have promised not to do). But they do allow me to adore them from afar. 

Living in a small apartment is no obstacle for Italians. According to a survey published last year, 55.3 % of Italian families have one or more pets. Cats are leading the popularity charts with 7.5 million of them having a loving Italian owner. Dogs come a close second with 7 million having been accepted as a member of the family. 1.8 million rabbits, hamsters and mice have also been included in the statistics collected by Assalco, an association for pet nutrition and health. 

  Dogs are especially visible on the streets and public places. They travel in buses and trains. They come to shops and owners may even allow their dogs to share the shopping trolley with their purchases, especially in IKEA. It is not uncommon to see a resident dog in a shop welcoming customers or preventing them to enter the establishment (in which case they may have misunderstood their role a bit). There may even be a sign on the shop window informing customers that they can take their dog into the shop but they must be aware that there already is a "friendly" canine inside. 

   Most restaurants have no problem for a dog to wait under the table while their owners are having a meal. I have even been in a classical music concert in Genoa, where a fairly large dog was sitting next to its owner throughout the concert. Granted, it was an afternoon matinee and not a symphony orchestra either, but I was astonished to see such a well behaving dog.

  Dog ownership comes with regulations to know and obey. If you are moving to Italy from an EU country or anywhere else, remember to register your dog's residency in the local Anagrafe Canina (the vet will know). A friend of ours was recently fined for about 50 euro for having an unregistered "alien dog". This was discovered when three officials stopped him in the street and checked the dog's microchip with a small buzzing device. Not knowing about the rules was not accepted as an excuse. He had to pay the fine. 

HUFFING AND PUFFING UP THE MOUNTAIN WE WENT

Yesterday was such a glorious day that staying inside was not an option. We decided to check out the views 202 metres above the sea level on the mountain of St Ilario, which we can see from one of the windows in our apartment. 

There are two ways to get up there: you can either cheat and take bus number 516 from Nervi to the last stop and walk from there or you can have a really good leisurely work out session on the way up through the long, narrow alleyways and hundreds of stone steps. This is an excellent way to find out one's current level of fitness and it is really worth it. In the end, it took us roughly half an hour to walk up to the mountain, not bad at all. 

  On our way up we could not help but wonder how do people manage to live on the mountainside. Judging by the number of private gates and doors to numerous buildings next to the stone steps, there must be quite a large community of people out there. Daily tasks, such as carrying shopping bags or getting mail delivered, could be interesting challenges when there is only a limited access to the main road. 

 As soon as the top of the mountain is in sight, there is a short, well positioned  promenade with delightful views across the sea and an ancient church Cappella San Rocco di Nervi, nice and cool escape from the heat, full of local history. Looking down from the promenade, Nervi is like a toy town. The trains passing through Nervi station could easily be part of a skillfully built miniature train set. The size of the park of Nervi can  also only really be appreciated when looking at it from high up.

 There are no cafees or restaurants in the immediate vicinity of the promenade, but it is certainly possible to find a quiet spot for a picnic. Going down on the same stone steps is faster than walking up,  but a word of warning: if you have any knee problems, there might be some painful moments. 

EARLY MORNING AND THE AMBULANCE IS COMING

In the early hours of today I had to call an ambulance.

John woke up with intense pain in his right arm, something that had been there for couple of days but was by now considerably worse. A tennis elbow, for sure? We thought that couple of painkillers would take care of the problem, but this was a case for something far stronger than paracetamol. So much worse that around 3.30 am I woke up with John screaming in pain. He had some kind of a muscle spasm, we realised later. Then he passed out. Came back to this world again, but only just. It was pretty frightening. John's face was totally white, he looked very sick. John barely responded to my frantic attempts to get him to answer me when I called his name. I decided that it was time to get the professionals in as it was obvious that this was beyond my thin internet based knowledge of the science of medicine and way past the "best before" date of the first aid course I took years ago. 

  It is so funny what you remember and what you don't remember in a situation like this. Such as: what is the emergency number....

  I called 112 and got quickly transferred to the right people and talked to a lady who had clearly dealt with panicky people before, possibly one every 5 minutes. She reassured me in Italian that an ambulance was coming, trying to assess the situation at the same time. Is this a heart attack? The pain was on the right side, so no. But it was still a very serious pain. The Genoa ambulance service got there pretty quickly, just 20 minutes or so. By the time they arrived, John was concious again and was able to walk to the ambulance where he was put on a stretcher.

   Believe me, in a real emergency things are suddenly happening like in a slow motion movie. The ambulance men said that John may need his trousers, for example. And did I think I might be coming in the same ambulance to accompany John to the hospital. Oh yes, I should get dressed too. It is amazing what kind of a combo you can think of when you have exactly 3 minutes, definitely not one of those fashion moments worthy of a selfie.  In John's case, he got the trousers but still had his heavy woollen night socks on his feet plus shoes. At least I knew how to behave in the ambulance: watching all those episodes of "Casualty" were not in vain. 

  We were taken to San Martino hospital's accident and emergency department. Within half an hour John had been processed, had his first medication and was waiting for a cardiogram, which he had very quickly. We were lucky, there were not very many other patients. Then we waited for the morning shift to come in and a doctor saw him couple of hours later.  We were reassured at every turn that we had not been forgotten in the corridor and people were unfailingly friendly. John got medication and even though this particular problem will need a long time to go away totally, he is fine and now recovering at home. 

  The ambulance service is run by trained volunteers, if I have understood correctly. They depend on donations and the goodwill of the community. Never have I had such a good reason to be grateful for this service. Next time I see them asking for a donation, there is no need for speeches. 

They deserve every single euro they get. 

  San Martino hospital is a very large establishment in Genoa and they take care of  thousands of patients every year. It is easy to be critical about hospitals, but perhaps "thank you" are the words we should be saying more often. And today there was a good reason to do so. 

FRUSTRATING TIMES BUT A NEW BEGINNING AWAITS

There has been a long silence on this blog but there is a good reason for it: we have moved to a new apartment. Still in the same neighbourhood, so not a biggie. We also love the new place and are very happy to have found it.

Moving to a new apartment is an excellent opportunity to discover all the useless stuff which has been hiding in cupboards and dark corners in the previous place. This time I will be ruthless! "If it has not been used for the past year and a half, it is not needed" is my new motto. 

Nevertheless, this has been a very difficult and frustrating three weeks and during this period I have almost started questioning the decision to come and live in Italy in the first place. Honestly, I can barely believe that we are in Europe. The endless delays and explanations why something cannot be done today but next week are driving me to the point of utter exhaustion. The lessons I have learned in the last couple of weeks are priceless and the next time I know that moving must be planned like a military operation. 

Perhaps the most infuriating issue was discovering that there was no electricity meter in the place and a new one had to be ordered. This has turned out to be a very difficult thing to solve. Customer service is the last thing the electricity company is interested in. For them it is totally reasonable to ask people to wait anything between 4 to 6 weeks while they are getting their paper work in order. The gas company was not much better. There was a long delay in getting the gas connected because the gas people could not come to an agreement which gas meter belonged to our apartment. Luckily, this has now been sorted out and we finally got our gas cooker to work last week. Hot water and heating system is also now operational (only that there has been a general problem with gas in Genoa and everyone has been asked not to put their heating on or to use gas for cooking only, but that is another story!). Even though we started the process of getting new gas/electricity contracts well before moving into the new apartment, it has taken a lot of time and effort to settle in properly. We are also only dreaming about the internet connection inside the apartment at the moment. It is probably going to take another six weeks as the telephone company people have to come and sort out the telephone line.... 

However, we are finally in the new place. Hopefully all this will be a distant history very soon, my blood pressure will return to normal levels again and all the unpacked boxes have dissapeared from the lounge. Patience, patience. 

This Christmas tree seems to be in the back of the building more or less permanently. waiting for another December. Quite practical as there is no need to decorate it again. 

LOOKING FOR A BETTER LIFE IN THE UK

The internet radio is a wonderful invention. Thanks to that I listen to the radio much more than I used to, often while cooking or doing boring stuff in the kitchen. Recently I happened to have the BBC Radio 4 on and there was an interesting discussion about freedom of movement in the European Union area. 

  They interviewed young, educated and upward mobile Italians who have moved to the UK in hope for a better life. For these young professionals Italy represented a place with no jobs and no opportunities. Unfortunately, they are right. Italy's economic growth has been very slow for many years now and unemployment is on the rise. In January 2014 Italy's youth unemployment rate jumped to 42.2 %. There are not enough jobs for graduates either (read more on www.italoeuropeo.com). Average monthly wages are very low in Italy compared to what you could earn in a fast moving, happening economy such as Britain. In Britain professional advancement is also not entirely a question of who you know or how good your parents are in networking. Wages are higher in Britain (but so are living costs). And if you can take the rain, wind and winter floods, why not use the right to seek your fortunes elsewhere. But will these young people return to Italy one day? Judging by the interviews on the BBC Radio 4, it's unlikely.