The Ghetto

Something that I've noticed about Italy is the fact that it is constructed in such a way that humble Britons have never considered. To clarify - do you ever see anyone taking pictures of council flats in Britain? Do the busloads of Japanese tourists ever stop by a tower block so that they can admire its quaintness? No, is the answer, in short: no-one in their right mind would compliment a British ghetto for its architectural contribution to a city.

This is one of the many areas where Italy differs from Great Britain. I spent an evening in Sanremo's ghetto, taking an awful lot of pictures and getting lost in its delapidated simplicity. It sounds horribly pretentious, but it was genuinely like stepping out of a Narnia-esque wardrobe: crooked TV aeriels, broken shutters, beautiful hanging baskets spilling over balconies, and the odd neighbourhood cat enjoying a spot of evening sunshine outside a door that had been left ajar. Most of the community were Southeners that had come to look for jobs inamongst the northern prosperity. This was my first experience of the North/South divide; these people were not living in prosperous conditions, but no doubt better than the life they left in the South.

This world fascinated me. It was just totally incomparable to Britain. I tend to spend a lot of my time lamenting the lack of something in Italy, or the presence of something unwelcome instead, but sights like Sanremo old town help to remind me that even though I am squarely in the European Union, that umbrella does not begin to explain the cultural differences that exist everywhere you turn.

At the top of the old town was a small set of gardens with a panorama over Sanremo. It was at that point I really noticed what an ugly city it is.I feel it would be much improved by sunshine; however in the heavy heat of early evening, I saw it all - tower blocks, overcrowding, hotels, restaurants, carpets of sun loungers, congested roads...

Down there was Europe - not a country in particular, but Europe and the EU; it had taken over a town like Butlins. Italy was being suffocated on a little hill - or is that resisting change? It was a breath of fresh air up there - the narrow streets below were far too claustrophobic.