Bologna
On Friday night I was sat in front of the TV watching Life.
For those of you who don't know of it, I'm talking about the US telefilm series about a former cop called Charlie Crews who was framed for murder and spent 12 years in prison before being released. Upon his release he is awarded a huge sum as compensation and goes back to a new zen-enhanced life being a detective, with the side story of him finding the truth to the murder. He also buys a huge house and puts no furniture in it.
As I was watching a scene of him in his empty house, I looked around me and saw exactly the same thing. My TV propped on a chair and just another one to sit on. My house was completely empty too. I was moving out. It was my last night in the house. I had packed away all my stuff and moved it out. Only a few boxes remained to put in the car on Saturday morning.
After several years of commuting back and forth, I have finally moved to Bologna. It's maybe a little strange that it took so long. I have spent more time, and continue to do so in the old city than in my house by the sea between work, hockey and love. It is a shame to leave my seaside home (or 'hotel for friends' in the summer months :-) ) but more practical to be in the city.
Already it is different. I mean, nothing has changed from what I do here, but it just feels different, knowing that I won't be taking the trip back down the motorway to where I was; not until the summer at least, when I will have to become a 'tourist' there like everyone else. I will have to find a hotel instead of 'own one'. Ha, sorry to ruin that one for you guys...
Hearing the faint companion-hum of traffic from the living room and the thought of knowing I will be getting caught up in it and struggling for a parking space too. To spend time weaving around the streets of the ancient historic centre like a scene from the Italian Job instead of just making my way back out to the motorway. To have everything there, but not the sea.
I have also left behind an old stereo. A stereo that I don't really use anymore but it has a tape deck and every now and again I dance my way down memory lane and listen to some tapes from Tenerife, from The Kirk, from the early nineties. I had to be ruthless, I have to put them on CD or download them from Itunes. But still...
So, back to my boxes and Itunes to help me along. This week I 'as been mostly shiftin' boxes te Jamiroquai, Lucy Pearl and Basement Jaxx. "Groove on, 'cos it's time to move on, hear the drummer get wicked..!" God I crack myself up...
For those of you who don't know of it, I'm talking about the US telefilm series about a former cop called Charlie Crews who was framed for murder and spent 12 years in prison before being released. Upon his release he is awarded a huge sum as compensation and goes back to a new zen-enhanced life being a detective, with the side story of him finding the truth to the murder. He also buys a huge house and puts no furniture in it.
As I was watching a scene of him in his empty house, I looked around me and saw exactly the same thing. My TV propped on a chair and just another one to sit on. My house was completely empty too. I was moving out. It was my last night in the house. I had packed away all my stuff and moved it out. Only a few boxes remained to put in the car on Saturday morning.
After several years of commuting back and forth, I have finally moved to Bologna. It's maybe a little strange that it took so long. I have spent more time, and continue to do so in the old city than in my house by the sea between work, hockey and love. It is a shame to leave my seaside home (or 'hotel for friends' in the summer months :-) ) but more practical to be in the city.
Already it is different. I mean, nothing has changed from what I do here, but it just feels different, knowing that I won't be taking the trip back down the motorway to where I was; not until the summer at least, when I will have to become a 'tourist' there like everyone else. I will have to find a hotel instead of 'own one'. Ha, sorry to ruin that one for you guys...
Hearing the faint companion-hum of traffic from the living room and the thought of knowing I will be getting caught up in it and struggling for a parking space too. To spend time weaving around the streets of the ancient historic centre like a scene from the Italian Job instead of just making my way back out to the motorway. To have everything there, but not the sea.
I have also left behind an old stereo. A stereo that I don't really use anymore but it has a tape deck and every now and again I dance my way down memory lane and listen to some tapes from Tenerife, from The Kirk, from the early nineties. I had to be ruthless, I have to put them on CD or download them from Itunes. But still...
So, back to my boxes and Itunes to help me along. This week I 'as been mostly shiftin' boxes te Jamiroquai, Lucy Pearl and Basement Jaxx. "Groove on, 'cos it's time to move on, hear the drummer get wicked..!" God I crack myself up...
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