Here comes the sun

We are still in January, half-way through the Winter, but this weekend the sun has been shining so brightly, that the Beatles song "Here comes the sun", has been playing in my head. The sun beams are dancing in a way that makes you forget they are dust. They are, again, the golden creatures of childhood. People are sitting outside bars, enjoying the sun. Glasses of spritz macchiato (white wine spritzer, with a dash of Bitter Campari), glowing like candles, and  happy laughter everywhere. White statues, silhouetted against the bright blue sky. Children riding tricycles and  holding bobbing balloons. Scenes like this, are Italy's strength. It seems a sort of antidote to what is portrayed in the papers and on the news. It is what my Mum loved so much when she came to stay. I would take her to a bar with a terrace and a view. I would settle her in such a way that she was safe and could just drink in all the life going on around her. Then I would leave her in the care of the handsome waiters while I went to the supermarket and did my errands.

On my return, I would often find that she had had two cappuccinos, strawberries and cream and a brandy. It's sounds awful, but was in fact a great joy. Everyone was impressed by her incredible digestive system. It was the "Winnie-the-Pooh" syndrome, that she suffered from. Like him, when asked, "Would you like honey or condensed milk on your bread?", she would answer "both". Then, so as not to seem greedy add "It doesn't matter about the bread."

Sunday mornings, and the coffee bars are buzzing. Everyone is buying frittelle crostoli, and pastine, to take for lunch with friends and family. Many are in the mountains for the day, most towns in Northern Italy are an easy drive away from a day in the mountains.

All this lovely, bright sunshine, in January, has brought back another vivid memory of a similar day, over twenty years ago. My mother-in-law, treated my daughter, then about ten, and me, to a day in Venice, to attend Hansel and Gretel (the opera) at  La Fenice theatre.  We had a sandwich , sitting in the sun, at the "Zattere", by the Giudecca Canal. Sitting there, in that spectacular light,  which has inspired so many painters ...

... the clear blue Winter sky, and the throngs of tourists, I felt such a part of it all. No longer a foreigner. I was there with my Italian mother-in-law, and my daughter. We were an Italian family.

The performance at La Fenice was memorable. The plush, red velvet seats with gold trimmings, and the  music and dancing, kept us entranced. On the train, on the way home, we talked about what a wonderful day we had had together.