Paul Attinello

Category: Travel

  • Train II: In transit

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    paulattinello
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    The countryside of the south: greener, more crowded, but gentler and more civilized. The truth is, I’d probably be more at ease down here, rather than the raw, chilly north where I’ve landed. The sheer density of people seems to soften things: making, I’m sure, more crowded resentments – but also, always, more alternatives, more…

  • South

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    paulattinello
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    Tonight’s pasta: conichiglie, with chopped-up anchovies melted in olive oil, and roasted tomatoes, and capers, and a can of tuna (that was possibly overkill) and lots of black pepper. It’s got a bit of a kick – hmm, no lack of anchovy flavor…. I would love to live in Italy, or Spain, or Greece. A…

  • Visited countries

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    paulattinello
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    I kind of liked this… simple enough; and graphics are always fun: Fiddled with it a bit; countries where I’ve actually lived (had a home): And, because Europe is interesting to me, and complicated, one for just that ‘continent’ – which incidentally emphasizes the peculiar accidents that have led to me never being inside the…

  • Hamam

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    Home again. After a hot bath: slow, sensual North African music; lying on the couch, reading ridiculous but fun German gay comics (my beloved Ralf König, who has published some new books since last I looked through amazon.de); a musk incense; late at night; I am unbelievably comfortable… especially after about twelve days of admitted…

  • Not amused

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    So, having come home after one slightly disorienting/disappointing trip, I have to leave again for a weekend in London… don’t much want to travel, don’t want to pack, don’t want to create time for two possible side trips or consultations… ah well. I’m going so that I can see a production of Sondheim’s Sunday in…

  • Flirt (Sitges IX)

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    This last night of the trip, I have determinedly done what I didn’t really do at all this time – go to the major gay bars and clubs. Bear Bar – I’d forgotten what it was like, and five minutes are enough (I escape, I’m afraid, especially after the one interesting French guy walks out…

  • The last day at the beach (Sitges VIII)

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    Well, the last full day, anyway – tomorrow morning will be fairly brief before I have to leave. This is also the title of a favorite track from William Ackerman’s Conferring with the Moon – a beautifully melancholic string ensemble leading into acoustic guitar; one of the finer examples of why I think Ackerman was,…

  • Desafinado (Sitges VII)

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    There are always points in any trip or vacation when one feels out of tune with the whole idea of vacations – they can come because of overdoing it (bars, restaurants, credit cards) or contrarily from underdoing it (as though you aren’t taking advantage of whatever supposed delights were available). The conjunction of insulted annoyance…

  • Xiguerit-pocquerit (Sitges VI)

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    Tonight was the final night of the Festa Major de Sant Barthomeu, which involved a lot of people in large circles doing the Catalan national dance… which is actually quite peculiar. It’s sort of ametrical (are there about nine, or twelve, steps in irregular groupings?) and extremely restrained, to say the least – frankly it’s…

  • Out to lunch (Sitges V)

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    Today Susan and I went in to Barcelona on the train, to wander around and indulge ourselves. I wanted to do something unusual for lunch – in Sitges we have been a bit too conservative, too pedestrian, landing repeatedly at a popular Argentine steak house (pleasant but a tiny bit boring). So we were thinking…