At last, I encounter Fosters Lager!

No one in Australia drinks Fosters Lager. That is mostly due to a marketing decision made about 30 years ago to gradually withdraw it from the Victorian market (back when we still had our beer allegiance on a state by state basis).

So finding it overseas like this at Hamerica – a restaurant with an obvious purpose and theme – makes pleasant sense.

So, here’s to the silly 18 year old version of me, who thought Fosters really was good beer because he didn’t know any better, and who was at least four years away from learning the meaning of the Ancient Greek word Hubris….

An afternoon stroll through Bologna

I occasionally have what I call ‘wow’ moments – when I see something that causes my jaw to drop. My first trip to Italy was like that when I saw Venice as my plane prepared to land.

I think I had a few moments like that in Bologna this afternoon, when I saw some of the amazing buildings in the heart of this medieval city – home to the oldest university in the world (although currently ranked well behind Monash on most of the ratings tables).

There is a certain optimism and freshness to cities like this, where they leave their mistakes standing incomplete next to their triumphs, and their masterpieces waiting hundreds of years for some magnificent benefactor to finish them. I love it.

Whatever happened to the torpedo punt?

https://www.news.com.au/sport/afl/tayla-harris-pays-tribute-to-danny-frawley-after-blowing-afl-stars-out-of-the-water/news-story/ab8d4d0e46c84d2ac16c7e4bb654a824

I’m sitting in Bologna reading up on my AFL news, as you do. Reading that Tayla Harris came third in a contest on grand final morning sinking a torp is great, but also goes to illustrate that the torpedo punt, that most beautiful and spectacular, and riskiest, of kicks, is next to extinct, saved only for exhibition contests, rather than used on game day.

I’ve long lamented the disappearance of the torp from the modern game. I wish coaches would risk it in their game plans again, as they did in the 70s.

Salerno – everything Naples is not

I must say, Salerno is everything Naples is not. Clean, civic minded, friendly, and with a great sense of joy of life. Compare that to the squalor, passive aggressiveness, and general apathy on the slopes of Vesuvius.

I walked down the Via Vittorio Emmanuele as it got progressively narrower and narrower til I found myself in the narrow medieval laneways of old Salerno, a place of restaurants, bars and all sorts of cheap and cheerful shops.

I really like Salerno, and the worst I can say about it is its proximity to Naples, which I loathe.

A charming anecdote

To borrow from Dostoyevsky, and then turn it around 180 degrees, I have a charming little anecdote about my visit to Messina.

Yesterday on the bus back from Tipoldi, I got to talking with a very ancient old man sitting next to me. Before he got off the bus he gave me as a memento of our chat this hand carved flute.

You should never stop believing in the goodness and generosity of most people.