Staglieno Cemetery, an open air museum

There was a song we used to sing when we were kids, which was talking about a black cat king of a cemetery - that's because in Italian it rhymes ("nero" / "cimitero"), and also because that's a good association between two icons from the gothic world, having a gloomy charme.
And so I cannot avoid thinking about its tune, whenever I start writing about cemeteries - and it kinda turns off the solemnity and concentration that I still have impressed from the atmospheare of the place I've just visited.
Anyway, it's an association that totally makes sense, because, also for what concerns myself, being a black cat inside, I've always been somehow bewitched by this kind of places and their maybe a bit creepy but undeniable charme.
Within the last few years, talking with some people, and browsing some sites and blogs, I've found out that, after all, I'm not the only one, and actually the so called "cemeterial tourism" is quite more popular than you may think.

How Vienna got ransomed by 8 of its alternative faces

The first time I have visited Vienna, years ago, the mercury coloumn of the thermometer was over 40° C.
I swear.
It was my birthday and I really really wanted to celebrate it with a slice of authentic Sachertorte, but temperatures had stolen any desire for chocolate from me. Which is like saying Winnie the Pooh doesn't want honey anymore, or Bugs Bunny becoming disgusted by carrots.
So figure it out.
What I remember about Vienna, then, are only the trees (where we were desperately looking for some shelter and refreshment), ice creams (which were our only source of nourishment) and the smell of horses' poop (that the heat had amplified, giving me the impression that, from the Stefansdom area, where the carriages take romantically around tourists, it had got diffused all over the city).
But how come - I've kept on telling myself for years - Vienna, for goodness!!
Sissi, valzer, the beautiful blue Danube, the Klimt's kiss, the '800s atmospheare, the austere and elegant architecture, the cobbled roads...
Billy Joel even dedicated a song to it, come on!!
It's just not possible that my main thought about it can be horse's poop.
I really have to give it a second chance.

Conwy - the smallest house and a castle

Bus journey from Llandudno to Conwy is short, but the 20' route that connects the two towns is already a sort of small tasting of the best of Wales.
Meadows, gorses, sheeps, rocks, beaches, sea... and then, all of sudden, Conwy appears on the horizon: the small borough with its trellis houses perched on the bay, closed, almost hugged, by the imposing medieval walls which are still intact, and the castle on their side, dominating them, strong and reassuring, almost like a sort of father trying to shelter his beautiful daughter shielding them with his imposing figure.

Llandudno - 2 "L"s & 10 good reasons to visit it

It took me a while to decide which town to choose as a base for our exploration of Northern Wales.
Llandudno grabbed my attention because it is situated in a strategical position and because it was well connected with bus routes to the main places I wanted to visited.
Bill Bryson, in his "News from a small island" (an ironical and very pleasant chronicle of a journey through Great Britain, from Dover to the most extreme point of Scotland), defines it "soporific"; but, when on Lonely Planet insted I've read "Victorian seaside resort" and "tiny pastel colour houses", I've decided to give it a chance - after all I've already stumbled upon the fact that dear old Bill and me not always share the same point of view.
For example I team for Oxford and he for Cambridge - but we will talk about this another time.
Moreover, of Llandudno I fancied the name: with its initial double "L" was evoking Welsh-ness to the maximum degree - wild beaches, a lot of green and some legends about wizards and heroes.
I just had quite some doubts about how it should have been correctly pronounced - then I've asked to Ginger Cat, who has studied Gaelic, and who revealed me that it was simply to be pronounced the way we would have read it in Italian.
Well, simpler than I've thought.

Paris - Day one... with 10 things that have made it special

If three is the magic number, then four surely has something special too about it, because I guess I can say that my 4th time in Paris has been the one I've enjoyed the most.
And the first day has been the most enthusiastic one.
I had almost had forgotten how beautiful this city is - kinda put it aside in some boxes in my memory. Ok, it hasn't stolen my heart like London has, but still it makes it beat - quite fast in some enchanting corners.
It's both royal and cosy, and I don't know how it does such a trick. Well, I should, perhaps - as anyway it is something that all the cats are very good at doing, at being both majestic and cute. So - do I have to say that? If a cat was a city, then it would probably be Paris.
I guess that's why I've always considered it a bit foregone, kinda taken for granted? Or, well, I guess it's also because it somehow looks similar to Turin. That's a similarity it strikes me more and more every time - and earlier today I was flipping through my pictures on my phone being a bit absent-minded and for a second I hadn't realized I had finished Paris photos and I was actually looking at Turin's ones.
But ok, that's the similarity between two cousins, of which Paris is the filthy rich, unfairly stunning one - while Turin is a pretty girl, but she has to work in a factory for a living, and she has calluses on her hands. Yet, when I go to Paris I'm just not able to get surprised, as I notice the familiar features, something vaguely recognizable, if not totally similar.
Still, I've always made efforts in order to notice beauty in the everyday, and since I've become a blogger I've refined this skill to the top - so this time I've got totally striked by how much familiarity can be stunning as well.
Paris is made of gold and stone, of gothic and liberty, and all its facets - the romantic one, the posh one, the elegant, the cosy, the dark... just melt into an unique mixture.