It’s around midnight and I’m typing this lying in bed in “La Fulica’s” forward cabin.   There is no natural light in this cabin which is effectively a “V” shaped metal box.   Most days it is very quiet here, but sometimes if the sea is very rough the swell makes its way the mile or so up the river Magra and sways the boat from side to side making her jerk up and down on her mooring lines and rub fenders with the neighbouring boats.   It’s just such a night and from inside my metal box I can hear the mooring lines creaking and straining and feel the boat rolling from side to side like a baby’s cradle. Although it’s a month since I last wrote, La Fulica has moved precisely nowhere and for much of the time Sue and I have been hibernating.   It’s hibernating weather.   Down here the days are even shorter than in the UK – by four o’clock in the afternoon the Sun drops below the spine of wooded hills which rise high above us on the other side of ...

We stayed in La Spezia for another few days until Thursday 30 th October, mainly to stock up with provisions and to see “Don Giovanni” at La Spezia’s theatre.   This was a regional touring production, professional and clearly very heavily sponsored by the Region of Liguria, Savona District Council etc, etc.   The theatre is a well-restored little gem, I would guess from the late 1920s or early thirties, very Art Deco with plush seats and ochre paintwork.   The sort of place I could imagine the local fascist luminaries attending for big set piece performances.   In fact in my imagination we could have been back in Mussolini’s Italy as we sat through the worthy four-hour marathon.   The auditorium was only half-full, mainly of smartly dressed folks, many of whom were clearly bored by the proceedings, a combination, I suspect, of the local literati and local government officials issued with complimentary tickets to make up the numbers.   ...