Visit Bergamo

My brother PJ has a friend, or at least an acquaintance, who will visit Italy soon and will be in and around the city of Bergamo. As this is where I spent most of my time when I was in Italy, he asked me if I had any suggestions of interesting places to see that were not too much of a tourist trap. And hinking about it, it struck me that I have a very vague memory of what I saw there. I thought the place looked absolutely gorgeous, but I don't remember the names. I asked my Italian friend who lives there, she gave me a list of places and things to do and suggested that the website Visit Bergamo. It seems quite useful and it got me in the mood to go and see Italy again. I've been there only once and it was more than twenty years ago. Way too long. There is a lot of the country to see, but I would to see my old friend again and her family, and revisit Bergamo.

The Bergamo Connection

Thanks to social media, I had the chance to chat recently to my Italian friend who lives in Bergamo, one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen and which, as you know, has been hardly hit by the pandemic. More about it here. Anyway, she is fine and things are getting better there. It was nice chatting briefly to her, and in the meantime it struck me that we haven't seen each other for almost twenty years now, which is a long time for friends. We both have children and it would be nice one day when this is all over to meet again. I hope it will be possible one day. I feel priviledged to have contacts from all around the world, thanks to my years at uni here, and I always felt particularly proud of my Italian connections, or, in this instance, the Bergamo Connection.

Italy during the Plague

I am a tad melodramatic, but judging by the news, this must be how it feels like in Italy while the coronavirus is running wild, or so it seems. I asked my friend, who lives in the lovely city of Bergamo how she was and I learned that while she and her family was OK, the city itself had been like under siege, as cases of infections was high. So she is working from home with two young boys (one a few months older than Wolfie, the other two years younger). I am glad they are OK in any case, but I am worried about them. It struck me that my life as an expat, while giving me friends from all over the world, also made me far more touched by such catastrophe. Saying that this is a small world may be a cliché, it is nevertheless true. I have been wanting to revisit Italy one day, but this is always something for the future. I was thinking of seeing my friends and have her sons and Wolfie meet and maybe become friends, in spite of the language barrier. It seems as things are going, it will not be any time soon.

Italian friendship

A few days ago, I was chatting to my Italian friend over Messenger. She is a friend I met during my first year at uni in this country and is about the same age as me. The last time we met, it was back in 2000 in Bergamo, where she is from and where I think she still lives. She is generally discreet on social media, so it was nice to getting some news from her. She has a young boy a few months older than Wolfie, let's call him Cesario. I haven't seen any picture of him yet. Anyway, she told me that she will give birth to a baby in six weeks, another boy. Talking to her like this made me feel better about myself, not only because of the nostalgia, but because she is living the same reality as a parent. We both became parents at a relatively late age, our children seem to have a similar mischievous spirit, they both have long afternoon naps and they both struggle to keep a sleeping routine. I wonder if Wolfie would get along as well with Cesario as he does with Uber. In any case, I think a trip to Italy is long overdue. When my friend get used to the reality of being a parent a second time (and at 41!), maybe we should plan a visit there. I'd learn a bit of Italian, reconnect with an old friend and we could maybe even extend this friendship to a new generation.

Longing for Bergamo

I was thinking about it recently: it has been almost fifteen years since my first (and last) trip to Italy. And thinking about it made me realise: 1)that a visit is long overdue and 2)that I miss the city of Bergamo, where one of my best friends, and certainly my best Italian friend, lives. I don't know why I loved the city so much, but of all the cities I visited, it might be my favorite. I mentioned on Facebook that I was missing Bergamo and she told me we were welcomed to visit it at any time. Nice to know, although I don't know when that will be possible. Until then, I will try to brush up my Italian. And to calm my longing for Bergamo, I listen to Uccellini's take on the bergamasca, which is originally a local dance. I blogged about it here and decided to upload it again tonight to accompany this post with a bergamese melody.

The world in Bergamo

I am uploading another picture my Italian friend sent me of the terrestrial globe in her parent's house in Bergamo. I obsessed about the globe since I saw it years ago. I am grateful my friend took the time to take a few snapshots of it at a family gathering. You can find more images of the globe here and here. I have no real reason to upload it, except that I love the image. The globe in front, the Italian wine in the back, blurry in the background.I don't know why, but I love it. My friend made a very artsy picture. So I had to share it here.

The world, viewed from Italy

I am blogging again about this terrestrial globe owned by the family of my Italian friend (one of my Italian friends), from Bergamo, Italy. Well, about two terrestrial globes really: the blue one and the smaller, old-fashioned looking one she also pictured with the big one. The small one also looks like the geography on it is utterly inaccurate. Taken from an old map, maybe? My friend told me on Facebook: "Childhood memories- I used to play a lot with those globes, even though they were not meant for playing..." It is a beautiful evocative line, full of nostalgia and as I am a nostalgic, so this deserves to be a great unknown line. I used to have a globe like this as a child myself, but this is for another post. Right now I want you to see a glimpse of the world, through Italian eyes.

Arvida seen from Italy

I blogged two years ago about a terrestrial globe in my Italian friend's family home in Bergamo. Well, she was kind enough to take pictures of the globe at my request. You can see one of it on your left. You can see Quebec of course, but if you look carefully you will notice what struck me about it. You will find it in the area of my region of Saguenay: the town (now borough) of Arvida is named on it as its center. Not Chicoutimi, the main city at the time (and still now, even though it has been renamed). This image is one of my most vivid memories of my friend's place. It can be explained for two reasons: 1)the globe is very old, according to my friend. 2)Arvida was at a time an important industrial town, because of its aluminum factory. It must have been considered a place worthy of mention on a globe, from an Italian's perspective. And Arvida does sound Italian. My mother comes from Arvida, so I have a special fondness for the place. And I find it funny that my friend and her family saw the name of the town over and over again when she was looking at the globe, probably never noticing it, but still there.

An Italian anecdote

This is a story that happened to me in a bar specialised in foreign beers in Bergamo. A great place to be for a beer lover like me, as Italy has a rather poor variety of beers. I was with some Italian friends, they had chosen the place especially for me. And also because one of the Italians guys had grown a taste for Guinness and they were offereing it in draught and in pints. Which is a strange to drink in a hot Summer day in Italy. But Italians are often strange creatures, in their likes and dislikes. So my friend ordered a pint of Guinness and I thought I tried one of the many, many, many bottled beers on the menu. I ordered one, there was none of this, so the barmaid showed me another beer, a Belgian one I think. She asked simply: ''La Cuvée?'' And I said: ''That's all right.'' She looked at me as if I had said something very rude and asked, a bit sharply: ''Va bene?'' I quickly said: ''Si, va bene!'' which was as much as I could remember of Italian all of a sudden. Moral of the story: however limited is your knowledge of the local language in a foreign country, use it to the maximum of your capability. You will look and sound less stupid.

Learning Italian (at last!)

After more than a year of procastination, I have finally decided to be focused, disciplined and to learn Italian: my mum had bought me this package with CDs and book to learn, the Assimil method, so I have listened to a few lessons already. Not many, and I repeat the lesson so I can keep the words in my head. So far I think I can order a coffee, which is good as Italian coffee is the only one I like to drink. A lot of it constitute of re-learning things I knew already, but had forgotten, or things I had heard but never quite understood. I know I have the accent already, this has been confirmed to me more than once (see here and here), I even have an Italian name (Guglielmo Bergamo) now if I can finally become an Italian speaker... Well, I'll have learned something that I have been wanting to learn for at least two decades. It's about time.

An anecdote about Arvida and Bergamo

I finished reading Arvida today, on the journey back from work. As my francophone readers know, it was written by my cousin, who is apparently planning an Arvida 2. Arvida is in fact a town, where my mother and his father were born and grew up. I spent many weekends there and family reunions. And today, as I was walking home in the heat of a spring day that is starting to feel suspiciously like summer, thinking about my the next book I would read, an Italian crime novel (translated in French), I just remembered an anecdote about Arvida.

It was during my time in Italy, I was spending the night at a friend's house in Bergamo (the town that gave me my Italian name and incidentally my favourite town in Italy). It was a large old house, where there was a large living room with old furniture, an old record player (I listened to Mozart I think) and an old, very old globe. I spent one morning there, it was late in August or early in September and it was very hot. I checked the globe out of curiosity, all those places in the world with Italian names. And I obviously checked Québec out of curiosity, and especially where I was from, the Saguenay region. There was no mention of Chicoutimi or Jonquière, even they were much bigger places. Especially Chicoutimi, which is actually a city, not merely a cathedral. But right at the center of my region, there was Arvida, marked with the same thick spot as Quebec City or Montreal, as if it was the center of Saguenay, or even of Québec. I found it very singular, that my friend had this terrestrial globe and that Arvida was literally on the map, that it existed for Italian eyes to see.

I have an Italian name

I was thinking about it when I heard the local radio making a massacre of my name after the radio play: I actually have an Italian name. Maybe I should have it as my artist's name. It was given by my Italian friends from my first yeat at uni here, as they couldn't pronounce my name either, not my first or my second.

My Italian name is Guglielmo Bergamo. Guglielmo because it is the Italian version of Guillaume, Bergamo because of the town. It is where one of my closest friends come from, it is the Italian place I know best (albeit I went there after I received its name), it also has a nice ring to it, so it is fitting. I love it anyway, although I seldom used it.

An image of Bergamo

I have an Italian friend (well, the Italian friend I mention here) who is from Bergamo, which I visited. I have seen little of Italy, which is ironic as I have known many Italians. But anyway, I did see Bergamo extensively and I was lucky enough to see it with locals. I found it a much nicer place than the overrated Milan. My friend published recently on Facebook an article from the New York Times about the city. I read this with a strange feeling, as I have known Bergamo maybe not as an insider, but certainly without the same foreign feeling tourists have when they visit a place. My friend thought it was strange to see her home place as an exotic location. I don't really remember the names of the tourist attractions, I just remember, but vividly, being there. I am of two minds about the effect the article may have. I love this underrated city to be recognised, but I don't want it to become plagued by tourists. Tourists can stay in Milan. Bergamo I hope remains more than an image on a postcard.

Music from northern Italy

It is a beautiful spring day today. I thought I would put some springtime music here. I first heard La Bergamasca or Il Giardino Armorico by Uccellini on an Air Canada flight back to Québec, about ten years ago and I loved it so much that I wrote down on a piece of paper the title of the tune. Strangely, it is not a song but a dance. This music puts me in an Italian mind. I learned years later that a bergamasca is a dance that is originally from Bergamo. I have not seen much of Italy, only the north really, but Bergamo has been so far my favourite city there. This is where one of my best friends is from and where I would love to live. So La Bergamasca I now have a special place in my heart.

Where could I live?

I thought about this yesterday: I have seen a number of places in my life, towns and cities, both as a resident and as a tourist. I was wondering in which one of them I could live and be happy, if I had the opportunity to move there. Loving a place depends of emotional factors much more than objectives ones. I thought I would make the list here of the places I would most gladly move to:

-There is Montreal. Well of course. This is where I feel most at home and where I feel most local. Even though I am from Saguenay, which a Montrealer easily identifies the moment I open my mouth (it appears that I kept my accent), I feel Montrealer. It is true that many Bleuets expats end up in Montreal, so it's like a second home for us. Strangely enough, I do not feel the need to go back and live in Chicoutimi.
-There is also Liverpool, my city of adoption (albeit for a relatively short period of time). It might not be a beautiful place, but neither is Montreal and Liverpool, probably more than Montreal, has character. I never felt local, but I never felt like a stranger either. Maybe it is because Liverpool has a long tradition of welcoming immigrants, which makes it a city where one feels naturally at home, maybe it is because there are cultural similarities between the Scousers and the Québec Northerner I am, maybe it is because Liverpool was the city where I got my favourite job so far. I probably idealise it more than I should, but there you go.
-Bath I think I could appreciate living there, although I might find the history of the city a bit heavy on a daily basis. But it is just so beautiful a place, I wouldn't miss the chance of trying it as a resident.
-Same thing with Cambridge, which I find beautiful, but maybe with too much history. I would certainly try it if I had the chance. I might feel intimidated by the presence of its university, but I would sure spend lots of time in its bookstores.
-Dublin. I have been there once, ten years ago, and for only one week, but I loved it to bits. I did not feel the presence of history at all, even though I saw many tourists. I had a thing for Ireland before I went there, it only got stronger after I left. And I could live on Guinness easily.
-I always thought I would feel comfortable living in Bergamo. But then I would need to improve my Italian. Bergamo is another city I really loved. It is heavy with history, but I did not feel the tourist's presence much, if at all. I have a thing for Italian culture and a personal bound with the country, which I blogged about often. I could develop this relationship in Bergamo. The fact that it is in the North of Italy makes it a natural choice. Like in Liverpool, I would be a Northerner there too. I have one vivid image of Bergamo: I was at the top of a tower (can't remember the name, but it has a history) and I could hear a baritone singing Mozart from the Music faculty of their university nearby. Idyllic. There are one or two other anecdotes about me and the place, which I might blog about one day.

The jury is still out for Vancouver and Manchester, which I loved but as a tourist (and in Manchester as a pilgrim) and I am not sure I could apppreciate these particular cities as much as a resident. Anyway, where could you, my readership, live, if you were given the choice?