Yesterday, as I was making ready my father’s birthday post, I realised that I had never posted the second part of my Trieste doors. Naughty.
A year ago father took me to Trieste by boat from Piran on a day trip. It was a hot but overall pleasant day with some nice discoveries and treats.
The first part of Trieste doors I posted on my previous blog, here is the second.
Trieste is a mixed bag of bones with heavy history, especially for a Slovenian living in Italy such as me. I hear the Chinese are coming next and it will soon be them saying “Trst je naš.” (
Trieste is ours in Slovenian.)
Better we focus on Mr. Joyce. James Joyce lived in Trieste for more than 15 years and if you visit you can follow his trail around the city. In the first Thursday Doors (and my yesterday’s post) you could see his monument, and today we pass a place where he lived and worked, and a certain
place of public unrest. Curious? Have a look. Most of the doors have nothing to do with him, though.
Main square. Iron Maiden played here. Really. Look at all the arches. Casual and stylish. Just one in many. That’s some arch. A little almost unobserved thing in passing. Trieste is pretty. And hot. We were out of luck. One of my hoped-for lunch destinations was on holidays. We had to improvise and find lunch here somewhere. Look at this high door of a music school. (Waitaminute, is this why they have five lines above?) You know it’s hot when I don’t investigate that wood opposite. So stylish and archy. Ginger – Tea & Cakes. Oh yes, we’ll be back. I want to thank my phone for finding it for me and leading me there. Again something closed. The red house. One of the stops on the James Joyce tour. Care to guess what it was? Father contemplating lucky no. 7, “the place of public unrest”, as the plaque above says. Yes, it was a brothel. To the right of the red house Trieste shows its true colours. Did somebody say stylish? Trieste in relief and another uninvestigated door beauty opposite. This balcony was screaming to be included. This is Trieste for you. I was so glad I didn’t enter a single shop despite the sales. When growing up it was the only thing we did in Trieste: shop for jeans and little things that we didn’t have in Yugoslavia, such as colourful chewing gum and forget-me-not scented deodorants. James Joyce used to live and work here and now it’s Zara. Didn’t enter. The final door that I didn’t cross the street for. Did I mention that it was hot?
Norm Frampton’s Thursday Doors challenge.