Visit Turin, Visit Piedmont – Lake Orta, Orta San Giulio and San Giulio

The Italian Lakes are famous worldwide.

Living rather near the lakes, a daily trip is possible from Turin and is actually highly recommended. For Orta San Giulio, on Lake Orta, is a wonderful little town full of charme. Small cobblestoned streets descend towards the lake, showing wonderful little old houses with balconies and gardens full of flowers.
The main square overlooks a nice little harbor where boats leave every 15 minutes for the nearby island of San Giulio, with only two resident families, the rest of the villas being holiday homes. The central Basilica - where 200 cloistered nuns live all year round - can be easily visited and a nice walk takes you around the small island.

The steep ascent ("Motta") in front of the harbor leads to the 15^th century Cathedral. On the left you can find the wonderful Palazzo Penotti Ubertini which is hosting an amazing temporary exhibit on Canaletto and other views of Venice (Canaletto e i vedutisti. L'incanto dell'acqua) through September 2011.

Happy Birthday Italy!

Today, Italy turns 150. 150 years ago Giuseppe Garibaldi led 1000 men and crossed Italy to free it from foreign sovereigns. Now, Turin was the first capital of Italy back in 1861, and it's so great to be here and be part of all this. A huge crowd was all over Turin last night despite the rain.

Torino Film Festival - John Huston The Dead

After ten hours at the film festival with barely any break, I tragically fell asleep sitting next to Tony Houston while watching his father's The Dead, of which he wrote the screenplay (after James Joyce's Dubliners). So in less than one month I failed to recognize Alex Zanardi in NYC and fell asleep while literally sitting next to one of the authors of a movie at the theater. Not too bad for a track record.

A few pics from Finland

Orivesi

Somewhere between Helsinki and Tampere

Orivesi

Tampere

Tampere Bus Station

Tampere Bus Station

Orivesi

New York – Reading at KGB’s

Have you ever been to a reading at KGB's in the Lower East Side? It's on the second floor somewhere in E4th between Bowery and 2^nd avenue, you can't miss it, and it's a must if you like literature.

First of all, as the name suggests, it's all red. The walls are red, the atmosphere is red. You can drink something, sit at one of the tables and listen to somebody reading almost every night of the week at 7 p.m. Short-stories or poems, excerpts of novels and much more.

Grab your beer at the counter then sit at one of the tables with people you know or people you don't know, you'll end up knowing them very soon. Friendly people who listen carefully, take notes, comment and then, shortly after nine, leave, after a last beer, for their next destination.

The area is the damned Lower East Side described by Rick Moody in his book The Ring of Brightest Angels Around Heaven. So no wonder Rick Moody came here to read. Just like Johathan Letham and many other well-known or less known authors.

Check it out.

Berlin Hackescher Markt

Before shopping in Neuer Schönhauser Strasse and walking through Mitte, it's nice to browse the Hackescher Markt, where there is an actual market (at least) on Saturdays. You can find crêpes, würstel, Italian pasta, Turkish kebab, salami and Leberkäse, organic fruits and vegetables and much more. Hard to resist if you are hungry. Nice to know it's just one of the dozens of markets that are scattered around the city on Saturdays.

Berlin Alexanderplatz

Berlin can be vibrant, on a Saturday morning, when you cross Alexanderplatz and the sun is shining, a guitar duo is playing on one corner, somebody is bungee-jumping from up the Park Inn and there's people everywhere. You go down the subway and a wonderful accordion player sounds like a whole organ.

Berlin can be sad, on a Saturday evening, when the same guitar duo is still playing, but the sun is not shining anymore and they look cold and tired, still trying to give the people the energy they need to leave a few coins. Berlin can be sad when you look around and now that the sun is not there you can only see the lights of Western chains and malls, which remind you of the saddest Western global streets of the city. You go down the subway and the accordion player is still there, still sounding like an organ, yet you know he has been sitting there for almost ten hours, and there's nothing romantic, there's nothing bohemian, there's nothing fascinating about that sound anymore. It's just the sound of misfortune.