A Month on the Moor
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A Gem from 1956: an Italian at British Trials
As some of you know, I inherited part of Dr. Ridella library and archive. Dr. Ridella was a veterinarian and an important English Setter breeder, his kennel name was Ticinensis. I feel really honoured to have been chosen as a custodian, but I hate to admit… I dusted and cleaned only half of the materials I have been given. Fifty years of canine magazines (1900-1950), however, are now readable and carefully stored. Knowing about this collection, a friend asked me to look for two peculiar articles written respectively in 1938 and in 1954. I could not find them but, while checking out nearby years, I found something absolutely unexpected, beautiful…
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Incontrare o gestire la selvaggina? IT vs UK
Le persone continuano a chiedermi le differenze tra le prove italiane e quelle britanniche. E’ complicato, ne ho già parlato in un altro articolo, ma i punti da toccare sono tanti e, più partecipo alle prove italiane, più differenze riscontro. Ho scritto partecipare perché le prove ho iniziato a “guardarle” nel 2004, ma da poco gareggio e, in ogni caso, in questi 13 anni alcune cose sono cambiate. Il mio ruolo, inizialmente, era quello del giornalista/fotografo, a cui a volte i giudici davano il compito di trascrivere le loro note. Ero un osservatore neutrale e ho avuto la grande opportunità di poter seguire le cose da vicino, pur restando ad…
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Finding or Handling Game? IT vs UK
People keep asking me which are the differences between Italian and British trials. I already wrote something but, the more I compete in Italian trials, the more differences I notice, they cannot be contained in an article alone. I wrote “compete” because I am not new to Italian trials: I began watching them in 2004, but I am fairly new to competing in them, furthermore many things changed in these 13 years. My initial role was the one of the journalist/photographer, who sometimes helped judges writing down their notes. I was a neutral observer and it was a valuable experience as it allowed me to see things closely, yet from…
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I trials inglesi: questione di atmosfera
On steadiness (… and obedience!)
Alloggi, ospitalità e ospiti
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British Field Trials: What’s Inside (Sentieri di Caccia December 2016)
British Field Trials: What’s Inside – Originally Published in Sentieri di Caccia December 2016 Disclaimer: This is the second of a series of articles I wrote for the Italian press. I wrote this article for Italian readers, this means that British people are not going to learn anything new from these pages and, whereas I did my best to be accurate, they may even find some inaccuracies. If so, please notify me. The first article of the series can be found here. Italy breeds the best English Setters in the world, so presumably Italy also organizes the best field trials in the world, if so… why go to compete in…
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Una Francia scioccata
La Svizzera e il Team Bond :-)
Miracles happen at Sandrigham: Norfolk Trials
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Dalle pulci francesi ai cavalli inglesi
Una volta uscita dall’Eurotunnel sono rimasta un po’ male: non c’era nulla di speciale. Sì, finalmente ero in in Inghilterra, a Folkestone per l’esattezza, ma non c’era nulla di particolare a darci il benvenuto, ci avevano mandato via dal treno ed era finita lì, nessun edificio peculiare solo una strada anonima che confluiva in un’altra altrettanto anonima, ma più trafficata. Ho già raccontato del viaggio verso il “Nord” e potete leggerne qui, tra parentesi adoro quella scritta! Oggi vi racconterò cosa è successo nei pressi dell’aeroporto di Stanstead, mi pare fosse proprio lì miglio più o meglio meno, ricordo gli aerei volare bassi sulla mia testa. Mentre mi preparavo per…
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From French Fleas to English Horses
When eventually came out from the Eurotunnel I was disappointed: there was nothing special. Of course I was in Folkestone, England, but there was nothing welcoming us: we were simply sent away our train and met no special buildings, nothing but for an anonymous road leading us to more trafficked one. I already wrote about driving in England, to The North, and you can read my impressions here, I love that sign by the way! Today, I will concentrate on what happened in around Stanstead Airport, I think it was there, mile more or mile less, I remember planes flying low over my head. While waiting for my train, at…
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In fondo al mar: l’Eurotunnel
La mattina seguente, appena alzata, ho scoperto di avere un nuovo compagno di stanza: uno scarafaggio stava cercando di entrare nella ciotola di Briony! Non mi andava di mettermi a battagliare con l’insetto, dico solo che la sua presenza non mi ha colpito positivamente. In ogni caso l’ho lasciato con Briony e sono andata a fare colazione nell’edificio principale. Era sabato mattina, troppo presto per i miei parametri, la sala era piuttosto vuota, solo gruppetti di motociclisti inglesi. “Hagrid” non c’era, ma c’era diversi suoi colleghi sparsi tra i tavoli, ero l’unica donna e, soprattutto l’unica donna che viaggiava da sola! Ho re-impacchettato tutto, scarafaggio escluso, e sono partita verso…
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Under the Sea: The Eurotunnel
On the following morning, right after waking up, I realized I had a new roommate: a cockroach was trying to get into Briony’s bowl! I did not want to get into a fight with the bug, but I was not so positively impressed by its presence. Anyway, I left it and Briony alone and went to the main building to have breakfast. It was Saturday morning, early for my standards, and the only people there were male British bikers travelling in small groups. “Hagrid” was not there, but his colleagues were scattered in different tables: I was the only woman, and most of all the only woman travelling alone! I…
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Una Francia scioccata
Da Basilea a Saint Quentin: una Francia scioccata Come è stata questa parte di viaggio? Strana, molto strana. Come ho già detto non volevo trovarmi in Francia il 14 di luglio perché mi sentivo che sarebbe successo qualcosa. Avevo avuto ragione, ma essere lì il 15 non è stato meglio. Dopo aver passatoi il confine, si sono inserite nella radio le stazioni francesi, terribile. La Francia era scioccata e lo lasciava vedere. Non c’erano auto, non c’erano camion, non c’era musica, solo infinite discussioni sul terrorismo e sulla morte. Era tutto surreale: la luce accecante del sole, le strade vuote e i paesaggi terribilmente italiani. Alsazia e Champagne potevano essere…
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A Shocked France
A Shocked France: From Basel to Saint Quentin How was that? Creepy, one of the weirdest trips I ever had. As said earlier, I did not want to be in France on the 14th of July feeling something was going to happen. Well, I was right but being there on the 15th was even worse. As soon as I crossed the border, French radio stations went on and it was awful. France was shocked about what just happened and did not try to hide it. There were almost no cars, nor trucks on the road and radio stations had no music, only endless talks about terrorism and death. It was surreal:…
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Are you REALLY doing that?
Under the Sea: The Eurotunnel
On driving in the UK, to the North
