In the last few years, since I moved back to Rome, I have developed a passion for cactai.
In fact in the last eight years in my last two apartments, growing plants has been a difficult task.
My first house in Italy was on the 7th floor with an amazing terrace overlooking a 1920’s area; one side of my current home, which is on the fifth floor, faces west and the other east. In both cases, the sun floods into the house for most of the day.
Considering the sometimes extremely hot temperatures in Italy and the fact that I am often away for weekends, cactai and tropical plants have become the only possible choice on my balconies, almost anything else is bound to die.
In particular I love cactai: they are tough and resilient outside yet retain so much moisture inside, there are dozens of different kinds of them and they have incredible shades of green or purple and they grow in volume slowly but steadily. Not to mention the fact that they make people who haven’t got green fingers into professional gardeners.
Cactai need sun, a little water and a soil top up every so often if you keep them in a pot.
That is it, the essentials. I like to think of them like buddhist monks, not needing anything material because they’re nourished by a secular wisdom.