May 2, 2009. Every spring the northern Italian town of Imbersago hosts a five day International Juggling Festival, giving more than 500 street performers an opportunity to gather and perform together in a relaxed and familiar setting. A popular event now in its third year, this street festival is attended by thousands of people from all over the world. The whole town of Imbersago is involved, opening their doors to travelling jugglers, hosting the Festival’s gala evening, the Sunday street parade and its very own ‘Juggling Olympic Games!’

You may think Italian jugglers are an obscure group, but we are amongst a growing community of artists who travel all around Italy to perform at summer events for locals and tourists alike. As street performers, we have a strong sense of community and a spirit of camaraderie between us. Regardless of whether we are professional or amateur enthusiasts, each shares the same passion and everyone helps eachother to do their best and learn new ways to perform.

But juggling is about more than performing, even if it is colourful and fun to watch! Juggling is an art, and even more: it requires iron discipline and tenacity to practice well. It’s about challenging yourself and not someone else, because juggling is not a competition. It is an exercise that help to reduce complexity to simplicity.

Juggling in Italy today combines the traditional values of community and the idea of performing to celebrate all together. Thanks Imbersago, we’ll be back next year!

It often happens that a restaurant creates incredible food and becomes a destination. Last month, my husband and I were in the wonderful town of Maratea, an amazing place with beautiful beaches and wonderful people located in Basilicata, a small region between Campania and Calabria. While there, we spoke on the phone with a friend from Calabria who suggested we visit the little village of Trecchina to have dinner at a local agritourism site: L’aia dei Cappellai. Agritourism sites are farms in the Italian countryside that serve meals and/or have lodging. Since our vacations consist mainly of eating and drinking everything local, we decided to follow our friend’s advice the next night.

Maratea is only 13 kilometers from Trecchina, but it took us more than 30 minutes to get there on small curvy mountain roads. I had called to make a reservation and as soon as we arrived, we were seated on the patio as I had requested. The patio was beautiful, very rustic, and overlooked a valley and a field of olive trees.

Our waiter was super nice and brought us wine and water right away (we had not even asked for it) and said that he would start serving us in a few minutes. They have a fixed menu, which is different every night, and everything is a surprise! Obviously, if you ask what they’re serving they’ll tell you, but why ruin the surprise?

Soon we received five different kinds of appetizers: homemade salami and cheese, fried zucchini blossoms, young roasted potatoes, marinated and grilled squash and grilled eggplant that was marinated after cooking and was spectacular! All these dishes were served with Trecchina’s local famous bread: a country bread made with natural yeast and a drizzle of olive oil!

Satisfied and happy, we slowly finished the appetizers and shortly after, a full bowl of homemade gnocchi with simply divine tomato sauce arrived. The taste was amazing, so simple but soo good! But, the best was still to come. Our second course consisted of homemade sausage that tasted so fresh and was so well spiced it was unlike anything we had ever had before. Included was a simple side salad, which was refreshing and well seasoned. For dessert, we were served apple cake and a bowl of fresh fruit: apricots, plums, apples and finally some coffee and a local Amaro Lucano, which is a digestif. While we ate, more and more people had arrived and now, the patio was really full. There were people from cities two or three hours away and everyone was smiling and looking happy.

When we were done, we rolled inside to pay for our dinner. We had no idea how much it would be and were so satisfied that we were ready to pay any price. Inside they told us it was only 20 euros per person, or around thirty U.S. dollars. Unbelievable! It was such a great dinner! After a little walk in Trecchina’s piazza, we drove back to Maratea and noticed the sky was full of stars, so we stopped the car and spent a few minutes outside admiring the sky! A perfect night!

L’aia dei Cappellai: Località Maurino - 85049 - Trecchina - Potenza, Phone 0973 826937

Since 1959, the Italian Golden Globe Awards are presented annually by the Foreign Press Association to recognize outstanding achievements in the Italian entertainment industry and review Italian films most appreciated abroad. The prize was awarded on 2nd July at Villa Massimo, Rome.

My home town is Bologna.

Bologna is located in northern Italy between Milano and Firenze (Florence).
Growing up in Bologna was a wonderful experience in itself, however walking through the city on a daily basis you tend to look straight ahead, moving towards your destination.

Now, after living in the US for 10 years, when I return home for visits I find myself, camera in hand, finding the most exquisite details and fascinating scenes.

Is this the city I grew up in? How did I miss so much of it?

What I see through my camera lens is not the busy day-to-day life, rather, a city filled with mystery, intrigue, style, and glamour.

It is true, to really appreciate something you may need to leave it!

Sicily Mount Pellegrino

We purposefully do this to guarantee the quality, accuracy and genuineness of our guidebooks. 


We strongly support the development of our beloved sport by donating a portion of the sales to fund to improve and equip new climbing spots. 


We proudly created “Performa” handbook series geared to improve techniques and increase individual strength. Written carefully by vetted experts, these books address psychological and inner preparation for climbers.

“Climbing in Sicily”
We share tales written by the most interesting personalities in the vertical realm. Readers will find useful information re:

Please check us out: www.versantesud.it

Thought for the day: “Never look down!”

One of my favorites is Ines dela Fressange, top model of the glorious Eighties. Most recently she has been the face of Jean Paul Gaultier. For a nearly a decade, Ines was the Chanel muse for Karl Lagerfeld. She is now ambassador for the luxury label Roger Vivier accessories.

Immortalized without a shadow of makeup by the infallible Peter Lindbergh in the last issue of Elle France, Ines is living proof that the mark of 50 years should not necessarily be considered a prison sentence.

Voila! A little food for thought from my post:

Rules for Elegance, “A sure hit, strategic step in the delicate post years.”

(Take note: these rules are not just for women over 40.)

SIMPLICITY: Being overdressed appears vaguely pathetic at any age. The ‘real’ art that you learn from 30 years and over is to be able to mix the chic element with budget-friendly. Thus, creating a mix of impeccable personality. No to all that is “too much” (too tight, too shiny and too transparent). Yes, no to the overly girly style and the inguinal miniskirt & co. or to the tendency at all costs even at all costs even when it is not good for us. Now that summer is coming, please leave the shorts at home. Go directly to the striped navy and white pullover – Coco Chanel inspiration, slim jean with an excellent cut and a pair of ballet flats. Blue in general is a great alternative to the always eternal black.

MAKEUP: Yes to foundation lightly applied and a shade slightly lighter than your complexion. This can reduce the shadows on your face and soften your features. Other small must: touché éclat magic wand effect for the dark circles under the eyes: touch of mascara combined with a chestnut color eye pencil where your eyelashes touch your skin.
The details do make the difference. Hands perfectly hydrated and with perfect nails (neither too short nor too long). For sure the French manicure is certainly a not. Remember, a pleasant scent and a perfect smile (teeth that are white and are that in order) translate into a passport of eternal youth.

HAIR: Hair must be rigorously washed, with no trace re-growth from color highlights. Cuts and colors should not be too harsh. Too long is just as bad as too long. Too blonde or too black does not work; Say yes to soft locks that caress the neck, ears or forehead.

ARMS: Sleeveless are prohibited unless the upper extremities are tested Turbino. (no jiggling without faltering, especially in the triceps or” sensitive” area near the armpit) A scarf, pashmina and micro cardigan with sleeves to the elbow are perfect allies.

ACCESSORIES: Shoes and bags of quality are essential. They are able to upgrade any look even the most informal. Other essential complements: A good dose of joy, generosity and sense of humor. To be beautiful, yes, but with the soul!

Mistero e Sgomento

In 1703 a terrible famine fell on much of the Kingdom of Naples, in particular on the city of Taranto.

Don Diego Calò, noble tarantino, ordered a Neapolitan cartapestaio to build statues of Jesus Dead and of Addolorata to be used in a procession on the occasion of Easter and invoke protection for the city.

After four months of drought a plentiful rain began and still today the rite recalls the miraculous event.

But what is the true meaning of the rites?

How is experienced by its participants and by the wider community of this city of the Italian south? The troccolante, one of the main character of the processions, will be our driving experience. His words will lead us in this intense folk tradition. And his eyes - a filtered look from inside the rite from the two small holes of his hood - will show us and allow us the relive the beauty and strength of a ancient world full of intense emotions.

Watch the trailer…

Yesterday with the usual cigarette in my mouth I was watching the sunrise from the window.

“You know what you need? asked Valeria, while sitting on the edge of the bed with only my blue shirt and nothing else, with her legs crossed. “You are too methodical, gray, habitual, relentless, silent… fuck! you don’t even speak when we have sex. you’re always serious… and on top of all… this obsession for the bubbles!”

In the early morning light, her eyes had a tinkle in them (was she joking?)

God, we just made love, I do not know how Adam felt upon seeing the first woman, -me, I felt like just kneeling before those perfect legs and I starting all over again.

“What about the bubbles now?”

“Do you ever take initiative? No, you say that all will end in a bubble, you hold everything inside, you never talk to anyone, it seems that you are afraid, not for other people’s opinion, but only of what they may eventually say about you and about what you do!”

I was being reprehended, but she was saying sensible things: after all, it was exactly what I thought of myself.

I don’t believe in anything, least of all in myself and in my ability to do something.

I have tried taking photos and they were disgusting, I have written more than a page, and it was unreadable, As a child I loved to play with soap bubbles because they lasted only for awhile and nobody could say anything, no judgement, no comment … fuck! … And I felt fine … so I approached her to touch her smooth skin … Maybe she was joking, just maybe ?

“Take this love of ours, for example …” she said again.

And what had all this to do with our love?

No, perhaps she was not joking, but I felt that it was better to wrap things up before this bubble burst, like all the other bubbles of my life that have ended up in a sticky creek. Love was a thing too big for me, I did not want to think about it, because it always ended up quickly. How long had it ever lasted?

“You should try. At least once. you should get out of yourself and try “… she said finally, while I caressed her body with my hands and she pushed me away … Yes I should try i but I do not know how I do not know when, damn!

We had a long discussion that afternoon. In the end, everything seemed settled and she smiled often, and we made love for a long time, several times, relaxed and calm.

Then, from gray day that it was, it became rainy, and she asked me: “Why now you don’t talk now? ”

Infact I had nothing to say, I have just been observed her in the dim light, when  sleepy after the lovemaking. She was wonderful, with those endless legs tand her black long hair.

“Why don’t you say something?”

I was motionless and silent, by the window, my favorite spot. I had nothing to say, my friend, it’s raining outside and I’m thinking, I have a confused image in my mind and I want to remember it better.

”You don’t speak and you don’t smile at me as you did a few days ago … I do not understand you,  or maybe it’s you that doesn’t get it!”

“I think I don’t even understand myself, I am here and I do not know why, I think, suddenly, that everything is going to hell, basically, down to the bottom of a cesspool, here and all over the world, and  for the world I still don’t know what to do, but maybe I know what to do for mysel”f, I finally said to her, lighting a cigarette.

She looked at me without understanding, I slipped back into my thoughts, and I do not remember if I had actually spoken to her or if had all happened in my head.

I wanted to bring back to my mind that old image of a distant afternoon of August … It was me, yes it was me, and you were not there. I remember.

She stretched out a strip of coke on the glass coffee table and she sniffed into it,  she was far away: “you want some?”

“No, thanks … I have to remember who I am and who really cares about me”, I said.

She did not say anything, it was over, and I left her the money that I owe her for the last time, adding a little extra and I left without slamming the door.

It was not her. It was me…… I had to find myself again.