Is it possible to have nostalgia for a place where you have never lived? I sometimes feel a generational pang for the homeland not of my father but my grandfather.
It seems real enough, like a calling back to somewhere I belong. But how can it be? It's impossible, isn't it?
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Just got back from the old homeland for too much grappa, vino and food. The weather was amazingly good for January. Not warm, mind you, but beautiful sunshine every day.
I may chronicle some of the eating and drinking at a later date. In the meantime, these lovely images will have to suffice.