Highway Cello

There’s a Conservatory of Music in Siena, along with all the better-known things like Duomos and Palazzos.  The young men studying my performance with critical generosity were, I discovered when I stopped, its students and alumni. If I’d known, perhaps I would have been more self-conscious.  And then I would have forgotten the notes.  You […]

This is what I imagined Italy would be like – turn up in a beautiful square, play for a while, and earn enough for lunch, maybe even dinner. It hasn’t been like that anywhere, yet.  But it would have worked out in San Gimignano, which has the most beautiful old square it’s possible to imagine,

I’m staying in a palace.  So I think I’ll make a weekend of it – well, at least stay another night.  San Gimignano is a town of great beauty, and even though I’m here by accident, I could definitely do worse than stay.  Besides, I’ve just discovered a very good reason not to go to

Luca the rugby player was as good as his word.  A couple of hours later he returned.  He brought a present with him – a painting of the cellist in action.  After we’d had coffee and I forget what else, he made a special request – “Bach Suite no. 1 in G Major, the way

I’m a short way down the hill from Norma and Marco’s lovely house in the hills above Genova, when someone calls my name.  It’s such a surprise I nearly fall off the bike. It’s Marco and Norma, on a nifty motorbike, on their way to a swim before Norma has to go back to her

I’m sitting in the shade of a prolific climber, on one side of a beautiful square in Asti.  Yes, where the Spumanti comes from. It’s an open and traffic-free square, with fine classical buildings on three sides, and a medieval tower to my left.  At the foot of the tower, which is now called the

Another day, another col.  The Col Mont Cenis is not such a big one, but none of these cols can be treated like a walk in the park. These hills are different from the hilly roads at home.  There you have gradients that follow the landscape, and change all the time.  Even the steepest hills

Yesterday was the first day Libre, my wonderful black beautiful carbon-fibre cello, didn’t come out of her case.  She didn’t like Val d’Isere any more than I did. But it was a good decision to stop there, and not move on.  The weather is altogether better today – wall to wall sunshine. Tomorrow is one

I feel in remarkably good shape after yesterday’s 6000ft of climbing, and two hours of music.  I think the day of rest before it must have been very restorative. So today’s plan seems light in comparison.  4000ft of climbing up to Val d’Isere, a very British ski resort.   Val d’Isere isn’t actually at the top