Spurred on by the sheer beauty of the mosaics we saw at St.Mark's Basilica in the summer, Sabine and I decided to learn the craft and so spent a happy 6 hours cutting and sticking bits of tile in a workshop in Brighton. We may have a long way to go, but we can hold our heads high with our first attempts. The lizard will be taken to its new home in Italy at the end of this month when mum and I return to San Ginesio for a chestnut festival. How chestnut festivities can last a weekend remains to be seen. As an aside, I learned today that the word “basilica” denotes the fact that a church houses the remains of a saint.
The Regents Canal is at the bottom of my road and a favourite route of mine for jogging, largely because it is flat. I think combining running and hills is sheer tomfoolery. There are many sites to distract me from the boredom of a slow trot and I have posted pictures of two of them here. One is an attempt by the council to humanise the Haggerston Estate, which has a poor reputation locally, by displaying huge portraits of residents on the side of the flats, accompanied by the words "I am here". Another, a multi-coloured wall of a warehouse that backs onto the canal, is the work of a Japanese artist Yuko Shiraishi. Both brighten up the area. I was running along the canal last week and a cyclist stopped at the entrance to a tunnel, to let me pass and when I'd run past him I heard a splash. I turned round and he must have been too close to the edge and toppled in. He was so embarrassed as I helped him pull his bike out and then he cycled back home dripping wet and trailing weed.
I went on a free guided walk around Holborn this morning, aptly named "Horrible Holborn". The guide didn't hold back with the grisly details of executions, to the extent that the man standing next to me actually fainted. I know people faint at the sight of things but I've never known anyone to keel over at a description. We started the tour in Whetstone Park which was famous for being a centre for prostitution in the eighteenth century and where Francis Grose went to research his book "Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue" a collection of slang terms including "gollumpus" a large, clumsy person and "bum fodder" which means "lavatory paper". Okay that one's more rude than slang but I am adding it to my lexicon. Grose and his assistant Tom Cocking (I am not making this up) took midnight walks through London, picking up slang words in slums, drinking dens and dockyards and adding them into their 'knowledge-box'. The tour finished outside a pub where Dennis Nilsen, the serial killer of the 1980's, picked up one of his victims. He used to work at the job centre around the corner where, to save money one Christmas, the workforce decided to self cater their staff party and everyone brought in something to share. It came out at Nilsen's trial that the pans he cooked his contribution in, were the same as the ones in which he boiled up his victims. Brings a whole new meaning to Pot Luck suppers.
The summer is well and truly over in Islington, leaves are falling on the patio and I am contemplating turning the central heating on. I check the weather in San Ginesio most days and at the moment it's 25 degrees and sunny and I wish I was there but I am back in London looking for work, which is slow going, but I have high hopes that something will turn up soon. I went to the Victoria & Albert Museum on Friday tonight for a tour entitled "The glamorous '30s". We started with Charles Sareant Jagger's Art Deco bronze relief called "Scandal" which was commissioned by Henry and Gwen Mond as a humorous reference to their early ménage à trois with the writer Gilbert Cannan. In Scandal they stand naked before outraged onlookers who peer at them with hands raised in horror. Apparently Gilbert was involved in a traffic accident outside their house and Gwen decided that he should recuperate at their home and then one thing led to another... Most shocking. We also saw a beautiful, jeweled headband that belonged to Countess Mountbatten, who married at the age of 20 and then "embarked on 2 decades of frivolity" as I read somewhere. I am contemplating amending my CV. Did you know that cigarette holders come in 4 lengths? Opera, theatre, dinner and cocktail to reflect glove lengths - wrist, elbow and full-length. How did I get this far in life without knowing that?
I went for my weekly boxing workout this morning. It is such brilliant fun it doesn't feel like exercise. The guy in the blue T shirt is Paul, my trainer. And there is never any point in trying to make an excuse for why I can't do something because something aches. We just work around it. I don't hit people, I hit bags, although one of my brothers suggested I should start hitting people and he'd give me a list. I think he was joking.
I spoke to a friend in San Ginesio yesterday and they said it is very hot and humid there and the sunshine is set to continue. However the open air pool is only open June to August so sadly it closes this Tuesday until next year. So summer is officially over and it's back to school.
I have decided to keep the blog going but it's going to be "Autumn in London". And from the weather today I am being optimistic. It just won't stop raining. Wet and miserable. But it does save me from sweeping up the entrance in preparation for my neighbour coming home from his holiday. He is so neat and tidy (hoovers his decking which I am sure he won't mind me sharing with you) that I feel I ought to clean up the rubbish that blows in from the street. Also we had strong winds the other day and his tomato plants were almost blown over. His flatmate has tied them up but they aren't upright and I am worried that if I try and correct this, the main stems will snap. I went to Tate Britain yesterday to see "Rude Britannia" an exhibition of British Comic Art. Each room is curated by a guest editor like Harry Hill (never understood the fuss myself) and Viz (purile I know but absolute genius). Someone showed me a copy of Viz when I was at university, which wasn't long after it launched and I couldn't believe a publication could get away with being so rude and un politically correct. Anyway the Viz room was very very funny and I kept laughing out loud and getting strange sidelong glances. I have no idea what the picture of the man and dog was doing in the exhibition but I liked it. And the letter is an extract from Viz.
I have just had a "breaking news" report filed by one of the Cub Reporters. They spotted white netting floral decorations on our neighbour's front door and then when they went to buy groceries there was a crowd outside the church in the square and the same decorations. So they waited around and witnessed Francesca and Pierfrancesco run out into a shower of confetti. Such lovely news and congratulations to them.
Yesterday I walked along the Regent's Canal, which is very near my flat, and visited a new market that is billed as "vintage", a term that really irritates me. Whatever happened to "second-hand"? Anyway I was going to take some photos to post but I was shaking so much laughing at the prices that I couldn't operate the camera. £140 for a simple 1950s cotton dress. And the sad thing is that some idiot will pay that. I remember with much fondness the jumble sales of my youth and the thrill of buying a new outfit at pocket money prices. Until I find a new job I am on an austerity drive. The flat screen TV can wait. To be quite frank, if something still works - like the TV or my laptop - I don't see much urgency in replacing it. I do love clothes though, especially winter clothes, so I am keeping a wide berth of the shops.
I meant to review this new restaurant at the time of visiting but didn't get round to it, so better late than never. When I first went to San Ginesio, Gianni and his wife Anna Maria were running the B&B in the main piazza. I stayed there many times as the house was being renovated and they became friends. It was Gianni who showed me where to sign up for an internet connection and who came to my house to set the equipment up for me. On the day we went to sign the contract we made a detour to the house in the countryside where he had lived as a child and which he had inherited and was refurbishing to include a restaurant on the ground floor. The setting is idyllic, in a cluster of houses in rolling fields and next to the tiny church of San Fabiano which is still occasionally used for mass. When the new Administration was voted in at the Town Hall 2 years ago they decided to sell the B&B to bring down the debts of the Comune and Gianni had to leave after running it for 18 years and this summer he opened his restaurant. If you want good, honest home cooking in a warm and welcoming environment then I thoroughly recommend this place. The night we went everyone seemed to know each other and I suspect that it will rely on local trade until word gets round visiting tourists. There is no website at the moment and you'll need to call to book 0733 656832. I had mushroom pancakes to start with which were absolutely delicious. There is no printed menu and Gianni speaks a little english so you won't have any trouble ordering. There is a garden with amazing views where you could have lunch or just go for drinks in the afternoon. To reach San Fabiano leave San Ginesio by the Porta Picena and turn right so you are driving around the town walls. Follow the signs to Sarnano and look out for the SS502 (small white surfaced single land road). At the time of our visit there were hand made signs in place but I expect they will put something more permanent up. The restaurant is on your right along this track next to the church.
Thought you'd like to see what the garden looked like the first time I saw it. More of a junk yard than a garden but look at it 4 years later. Amazing isn't it. Many thanks to Caro who advised me on plants and how best not to kill them!
The scaffolding is down and the Campanile (bell tower) can be seen in all its glory. Campanilismo is a key concept in Italian society and signifies someone's pride and sense of belonging to the place of their birth. And the symbol of that devotion is the Campanile, traditionally the tallest building in any village. Italians will usually tell you which town they are from in Italy before they tell you which region or that they are Italian. Some cite the concept of campanilismo as a reason why Italy has not embraced globalisation in the way that other countries have.
This is the Porta Picena in daylight to give you a better idea of the Battle setting. There are 4 gateways into San Ginesio and all townsfolk owe their allegiance to one. Each contrada has its own flag and colours. Porta Picena (red), Porta Alveneto (green), Porta Ascarana (yellow - this is the one nearest the house and typically in my least favourite of the 4 colours) and Porta Offuna (blue and the prettiest - also shown here). And in the run up to the annual Palio each gateway hosts an open air dinner that anyone can attend and which focuses on one ingredient. This year Porta Alveneto was Wild Boar and Porta Picena Gnocchi. The streets are also festooned with flags in the colours of the area. The main piazza is always in red and nowhere near the Porta Picena which will just have to remain a mystery. Can anyone tell that I have too much time on my hands! Time to find a job.
The re-enactment of the Battle of the Fornarina is an annual celebration of when San Ginesio was victorious is defeating a surprise attack in 1377 by the town of Fermo. It is set at the Porta Picena, the main gateway into the town, with the city walls as a backdrop and what was a pilgrims' hostel to one side. San Ginesio was a well used place of rest for pilgrims traveling between Loreto and Rome. It happens once darkness falls so there is always a lot of standing around before battle commences (and quite a lot when it gets under way too). The townsfolk were woken by a baker woman on her way to work and she literally saved the day and has been feted ever since; there are streets named in her honour. I found out this year that there were originally 8 gates into San Ginesio and one of them was at the end of my street and historians think that that was where the battle actually took place. At the very end of my road is a small shrine to the Madonna (on the site of where a church originally stood) which was built in thanks for the town being saved. These photos were taken a couple of years ago but I am sure that little would have changed. Cub Reporter has filed story - We went to see the Battle of the Fornarina. It was very nicely staged and everything looked so pretty dressed up with Medieval clothes and candles, and little Medieval shops everywhere displaying armour. We couldn't really understand what was going on in the play, and it lasted for about an hour standing up outside, but there was a very good singer (we think she might have been one of the girls who works at Terra Nostra) who sung a few pretty songs. The actual battle was exciting, and the stunt men were good. There were a couple of big gunpowder explosions, and a lot of digging swords into other peoples' stomachs.
So the festivities are well under way, although the Battle itself isn't until very late tonight. I remember from past years how local residents decorate the fronts of their houses and some dress up and demonstrate past crafts like making soap, baskets, knitting (very medieval), cobbling and blacksmithing. And of course the boy trumpeters are out and about heralding something or other. Forget the Christmas decorations, I am convinced that everyone in San Ginesio has a box of medieval decorations in the loft.
That was a long job and I absolutely couldn't have sorted out the collapsed tomato plants (top picture, as if you needed me to point that out) without the help of my neighbour Mark. I've thinned out the leaves on the tomatoes, picked beans and lettuce and had a really good tidy up and hose down. I will sleep well tonight. Very tiring.
Cub reporter, writing from the front line, tells me that they had to wait a long, long time for dinner at Terra Nostra last night as it was so crowded and then some of the order was wrong when it finally arrived, although the staff did apologize for the service and gave some money back at the end. To pass the time they played an argument game, (one of their parents must be a lawyer) where my nieces were given 2 minutes to prepare arguments in favour of set topics. (What happened to i-spy?). Nina (13) was given 'in favour of the death penalty' and 'in favour of fur in the fashion industry', whilst Izzy (9) got 'against eating gummy bears', and 'in favour of Izzy going to bed earlier' (one which her sister came up with).Nina’s were hard to argue, especially fur in the industry, because she couldn't think of a single point for that. I suggest she resurrect that one at a New York dinner party in winter. Izzy had no trouble with hers and it turned out that the arguments for not eating gummy bears were strong, as were the arguments for her going to bed earlier. Okay that might put her off debating for life. I think I need to rush back and bring the intellectual level down a peg or two.
It's a heavenly morning in San Ginesio and I am so pleased for my friend Roberto who has organised the Battle of the Fornarina as it would be terrible if all that hard work was ruined by the rain. At the end of my road is a panoramic viewing point and you can see how good the visibility is today. And it's been turned into the Taverna of the "Alfieri" which means standard bearer. So looks like my family will have knights as neighbours for the day. Thanks to my brother for the photos - keep them coming.
Having left one tidy garden behind me I decided it was time to tackle the patios in London. I live in a converted factory which is set back from the main road behind a row of houses one one side and bordered on the other side by gardens, so it's quiet, apart from when the couple in one part of my building stay up to the early hours (like last night) and leave their kitchen window open and then it's like being at the party. Fine at midnight but not so fine at 5am when their parties inevitably go on until. I get my own back by getting up at 8.30am and playing radio 4 loudly. Torture for them no doubt. I have 2 patios, the lower one is accessed from the kitchen and the upper one from the bedroom and it's on the upper one that I grow my vegetables. This year I have grown potatoes, green beans, runner beans, broad beans, strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, radish, onions, rocket and beetroot. The tomatoes were about 2 foot high when I left and are now 6 and collapsing so I have bought canes and my neighbour is going to give me a hand tomorrow to tie them up. I dragged the hose round from the front of the building and spent a couple of hours scrubbing down the lower patio and it's looking good now which is more than I can say for the vegetable one! But I have posted a photo so that you can compare it with how it should look this time tomorrow. At least that's the plan.
So my flight was delayed last night and I arrived home at midnight. My neighbour has done a fine job keeping the veg alive and my patio has been taken over by triffids. I am going to have to get some canes and tie the tomatoes up as they are all collapsing with the weight of the fruit. That can wait until tomorrow. I do love London and know I will get back into the swing of it but within 24 hours of getting back I have overheard phone conversations in the street (how can you avoid them) where every other word in an expletive, where people put their feet on seats on the bus, where litter is casually dropped when a bin is in view...The list goes on. I seem to be surrounded by the uncouth. Maybe I am noticing it more as I have come from somewhere that is like stepping back in time. I miss Italy and am very tempted to get back on the plane. Shame the need to earn a living gets in the way of life. The big news from San Ginesio is that the chest of drawers acquired in IKEA yesterday has been assembled. And that it was overcast but the forecast is for the sun to come out and stay out. Sunday is the reenactment of the Medieval battle of the Fornarina when San Ginesio overcame a surprise attack by Fermo thanks to the quick wits of a Baker Woman on her early morning walk to work. More of that to come. But yesterday morning (seems like a world away) I accompanied my brother to the barber's and saw a notice on the wall asking local residents to avoid driving into the town after 3pm on Sunday as it would be a much more pleasant and authentic atmosphere for the festivities if the streets were car free. And I know from previous years that absolutely everyone complies in a lovely example of civic pride. When I left the flags of the 4 contrada (tribes or areas of the town) were being put up in the streets and shops were starting to hang their medieval decorations. It's a great time to be there. What I am doing here? I will sleep on the answer and let you know!
Turns out that the apricot tree in the garden is wild prune. I wondered why the fruit was so small. Thought that maybe there was a species of dwarf apricot! I can't believe how quickly the weeks have flown but I am going back to London tonight while my family remain here. However we have cub reporters in place who have promised to send daily updates and photos so that I can blog from afar. And if you are very lucky you may get some London vegetable plot news - I can feel the excitement levels rising in cyber space as I tap away. So goodbye San Ginesio, thank you for a wonderful summer and I'll see you in the autumn.
My neighbour and his father tackled clearing the land at the back of the house this morning. So armed with a chain saw and an industrial strength strimmer they disappeared into the undergrowth. It has made a massive difference to the outlook and although there are still trees between me and the view of the landscape, it's much improved and there are enticing glimpses of the rolling hills beyond. Pier-Francesco had a nasty bite on his neck when they'd finished, I shudder to think how many insects there are on that land. If the church does own it then I'd never be able to buy it, as they won't sell, but as least that means that it will always be unused and I don't have the money to buy it anyway. Nice to dream of a little summer house though. And while the men toiled away, my nieces spectated.
We went back to Loro Piceno yesterday morning to the eccentric butcher's and bought some sausages and the carnivores concur with Heston that they are a superior product. The theatre was as good as the meat and this time, as the shop was actually open for business, the counter was a veritable display of meat sculpture. And yes the dinosaur made an appearance too. We googled Peppe when we arrived home and he is a bit of a media celebrity in these parts.
Claudio came this morning to drill holes into the stone above the kitchen door for the hooks so we could put the curtain up. He also sealed the skirting board in the kitchen where the scorpions get in. My brother seems to think that people will feel short changed by the photo of the day being of a plastic bead curtain. But it's a 65 euro bead curtain I cry. Actually it's a revelation. I made mushroom and artichoke risotto tonight and I didn't faint with the heat from the cooker or have to flee from moths with a tea towel head-dress because the back door was wide open and festooned with aforementioned curtain to keep me in an insect free zone. Talking about revelations, brother and I were victorious in the tennis for the second day running. Lisa, the local tennis coach, was at the courts and told me that the tennis school has been taken over by an outside company and now runs for 6 weeks in July and August. She also said, without a hint of irony, that she had watched our game yesterday and today and really been entertained. The rest of the day was occupied with a trip to Macerata, the main town in this area. And then we did precisely nothing this afternoon. It's now gone midnight and there is a strange banging noise outside. I think the local teenagers have discovered the medieval barbecue area that has been set up near the house and they have gone into over drive with excitement.
We vetoed the pool this morning and decided to drive to the lake at Fiastra which is in the Monti Sibillini National Park. It's the Sibillini mountain range that you can see from the house. Lucy, who was on holiday here last year, recommended the pedalos on the lake and they were great fun except for wearing a rather smelly life jacket. The water is a fantastic greeny-blue and our paddle, later in the morning, turned into a swim but as the land shelves very quickly and drops away we stayed at the edges because Auntie Maya was the adult in charge (?) and decided that swimming after nieces in trouble was not going to be on the agenda. And then we had a stone skimming competition where 2 skips was the winning throw so that says a lot about how good we were. We are now back at the house and my brother has just been chopping branches off the apricot tree while I shouted instructions out of the sitting room window - I do like to help. It's completely the wrong time of year for pruning so let's hope we (he) hasn't killed it. I ordered a plastic bead curtain for the kitchen door so that I can cook with the door open and avoid moths flying in. I can cope with a lot of insects but big moths have me running out of the room with a tea towel on my head. Claudio the carpenter who worked on the house renovation, is coming tomorrow morning to advise me on what, if anything, I need to do to treat the window frames and he said he'll put hooks above the kitchen door to hang the curtain on. It was made to measure but who would think a plastic bead curtain could cost 65 euros. I suspect if I had known I would have resorted to the tea towel manoeuvre instead.
We have just played 2 hours of tennis. My brother and I lost 2 sets to 1 but it wasn't a disgraceful performance by any means. We will fight back tomorrow. The setting for the courts is a glorious one, next to the town walls.
Some bright spark thought that driving a big lorry up a small road would be a sensible thing to do. I hung out of the bedroom window ready to pounce if he damaged the shutters, but he just squeezed past the house.
We wandered up to the market this morning but it had been pushed on to the lanes that lead from the piazza by a display of vintage cars. The Fiat 500 and the red sporty number are my contenders for the best 2. The sun is back, so everyone has gone to the pool for the rest of the morning and I am chilling at home. Tonight we are playing tennis and then going to the Wild Boar celebration. We missed the belly dancing performance last night but tonight there is a 70 and 80s disco and a temporary dance floor has been constructed in the piazza. Must dig out my flares and boa.
"The night was spectacular. All of the courses were superb. I love this restaurant as it's sensational. Personally, this is the best place ever. The service is lovely, great atmosphere, fantastic food. It's a 10 out of 10 restaurant." Izzy Bhose.
And the restaurant critic also managed to eat every single course and had seconds of pig's cheek and vincisgrassi. Unfortunately her sister wasn't feeling too well so had to sit out courses 9-12 in the car but is thankfully back to feeling fine this morning. And as Silvano kindly gave us a doggy bag of the missed courses, Nina had the pudding (her favourite course) for breakfast.
. This evening we went to "Il picciolo di rame" at the castle in the hamlet of Vestignano (where 20 people live) and I have to say that this is my favourite restaurant, bar none. The experience is sublime. The restaurant is in the old olive press of the castle, in an area where the partisans fought the fascists in the second world war and where paintings of this still adorn the hamlet walls (as pictured here). Silvano is a fantastic host and as he explained to us he thinks of his customers as friends. The restaurant seats 24 maximum and every course (most resurrected from medieval recipes) comes with a story (in Italian). There are 12 courses and the cost is €30 including all wine (made by Silvano's father) and bottled water. So this is what we had to eat. 1. Toasted bread with local olive oil. The oil is less bitter than usual as there was snow when the olive trees were in flower this year. 2. Onion soup made with onion, vegetable stock and flour topped with croutons. 3. Rice and tomato soup with chillis. Until the medieval times, rice was grown in Le Marche. 4. Polenta made with a flour of ground wild peas cooked in onion and pecorino cheese. 5. Lentils cooked in 15 herbs and no salt as it was such an expensive ingredient in the Middle Ages. 6. Ravioli of ricotta in a cheese sauce with fresh truffle. 7. Spaghetti with a ricotta, lemon rind and thyme sauce served with pig's cheek. 8. Vincisgrassi - Le Marche lasagne. A very rich dish that was named by an Austrian General who fought Napoleon nearby in Tolentino. 9. Wild Boar with green beans. 10. Chicken baked in paper with red pepper and mushroom. 11. Local soft salami and bread 12. Custard cream pudding with a chocolate topping. Coffee and vino cotto. And then you really need to go home and lie down for a day or two. This is one, if not the hidden gem of Le Marche and I urge anyone vaguely considering a trip here to come for this reason alone. You must book ahead but I can do that for you. I am now several pounds (that's kilos for anyone young reading this) heavier but going to sleep fat and happy.
I am amazed that my neighbour has done this. The house is not being rented at the moment so I can't see any other reason for it, other than being neighbourly. Maybe I should follow suit and take the sun loungers off the wall! Let's hope the sun returns tomorrow and we need them. I have just heard a van with a loudspeaker driving around and caught something about an event in the piazza, tomorrow night I think. There should be a Wild Boar celebration soon. Eating it that is, so not much of a celebration for the Boar. I will find out more and let you know.
We couldn't leave Venice without a visit to St Mark's and yesterday morning we joined the queuing masses. It was worth it. Such a spectacular church and I loved the mosaic floors. The only thing that I think is a shame, is that with such a conveyor belt of people traipsing through, it loses any vestige of tranquility. It really annoys me that tour guides stand next to notices on the walls that read "silence", yet they are anything but. Then we sat in a small square, listening to a violin playing, teenage busker, while we ate calzone that we'd bought from a stall. And then it was time to head back to the floating car park and drive home. We stopped to buy some vegetables on route and arrived home around 8pm. Why is it tiring just sitting still while someone else drives? I made dinner, ratatouille and rice and we watched a really bad George Clooney film called "Leatherheads" that should have gone straight to DVD, it was pretty bad. This morning we went to the supermarket to do a big shop for the next few days and had a late lunch as we are going to Silvano's for dinner. I mentioned this place in an earlier post when Silvano mucked up the booking and didn't have any room left for us. I called this morning, just to be on the safe side, and yes we are expected. So we had a late lunch and hopefully by 8pm we will be ready for 12 courses. The morning we left for Venice a man was cutting back the weeds next door and I can't believe what an amazing job he has done. It has been completely cleared of everything, including any remaining fencing. We now have no obstructions to our view of the village. I think my brother is asleep next door but I will take a photo from the balcony later.
Our afternoon was literally a wash out as it poured with rain and we were confined to barracks. Rather comfortable barracks with crisps and "Will & Grace" DVDs - not such a hardship. When it cleared up we crossed the bridge towards the train station and explored the Jewish quarter. Unfortunately, because of the weather, by the time we got out most of the museums were closed but we had a lovely time strolling about and soaking up the atmosphere. Compared to the much more touristy area around San Marco it was very tranquil. We stayed in this area for dinner and lucked out on a restaurant that served fantastic seafood. I had a selection of seafood to start (carpaccio, scallops, mousse, prawns with pine nuts and raisins) and liked everything except for the boiled octopus. Then for the main course I had monkfish stuffed with ginger, which may sound odd, but it worked. The photos don't do the meal justice. Tomorrow is our last day and although we have only scratched the surface of things to do here, I think we have packed a lot in.
We went to the Guggenheim museum this morning, which is housed in the palazzo where Peggy Guggenheim lived for the last 30 years of her life.This statue is on the steps at the entrance to her home.When asked how many husbands she had had, she replied, “mine or other people’s?”.And I think the count was high.When it was built her palazzo caused problems for the foundations of the neighbouring buildings, which is why (unusually) it only has 2 floors and is overlooked by all the surrounding buildings.The Police Chief , whose office was opposite, always said he knew when spring had arrived as Ms Guggenheim would be sunbathing nude on her roof terrace.By all accounts she had very decadent parties on the terrace and the Grand Canal would be dredged the following day to retrieve all the champagne bottles that were chucked in.Centuries before the fashion was to have lavish parties and chuck all the gold plates into the canal.
We found a great place for lunch, tucked into the back streets and where most of the clientele appeared to be Italian and you ate what was put in front of you.There was a table of Gondoliers next to us and we later spotted one of them on a Gondolier calendar (Mr August) at a nearby bookstall, next to the calendar of priests (which just doesn’t seem right on many levels).
I have decided that it is pointless actually trying to find anything in Venice. It's too frustrating as you end up wandering around alleyways and repeating the phrase "I sure it's just down here". Much better to stumble on things in a random way and enjoy the moment as you won't find it a second time. The greatest fortune this morning was to stumble upon an outlet shoe shop. Now I realise that you are expecting photos of San Marco and picturesque waterways with Gondoliers. But the thing of beauty from today are my new shoes. And when I saw they were Marc Jacobs I loved them even more. I know this makes me rather shallow but in the purchase of shoes I suggest this is a strength and should be encouraged in young children as it will set them on the path to a happy future. I had booked a table at a very hard to get into and notoriously hard to find restaurant for dinner tonight. So we thought we'd track it down this morning to avoid being very late due to walking in circles tonight. And when we did find it we still walked up and down the road 3 times to confirm that yes it was actually closed for renovation and yes there were several men digging up the floor. So why did they reply to my email confirming the booking and asking for a phone number? Because I had booked a table for August 28th that's why. Clearly a month of not working has turned my brain to putty.
We arrived in Venice yesterday afternoon and it is so lovely to be here. Last time I was here was about 15 years ago. It was a slow start though. We'd only been on the road for half an hour when the traffic came to a complete standstill as there had been an accident. After a while we heard an ambulance coming so everyone pulled over to the sides of the 2 lane carriageway so it could drive up the centre. And then, this being Italy, everyone got out of their cars, wandered about, smoked, made friends and invented lots of theories about what had happened. It was more like a street party than the scene of an accident. We were stuck for an hour and a half and eventually arrived in Venice at 4.30. We parked on a floating car park by the causeway and then had a comedy 20 minutes trying to find the exit to the ferry. In our defence the signposting was terrible. Our hotel is on the Grand Canal and if I lean (and try not to fall) out of my window, I can see the water.
We went to see a doctor this morning for antibiotics and a tetanus shot. He gave us a prescription and told us that the chemist could give the injection which we thought was a great idea. Except when we got to the pharmacy they said they didn't do that. Seemed too good to be true. By then the doctor had gone so we walked down to the small hospital, amazing they have a hospital for such a small town. Anyway we found another doctor who did the injection. No fuss, no waiting and no fee. So all sorted and now back to the business of having fun. Bit cloudy this morning so looks like the pool will have to be postponed to this afternoon. Just off to book a tennis court for tonight and a stroll. I am sure ice cream will be involved somewhere in the proceedings.
My brother is training for a marathon so we decided to go for a run before dinner. It's really hilly around here and someone had told me about a track that is about as flat as you can get here. So we headed for that and after a couple of miles, up ahead we saw a guy walking his 2 dogs and they headed straight for us, ignoring his calls and proceeded to bite my brother. I've been scared of dogs all my life and it was really horrible. The guy was pathetic. Turned out to be English. He clearly can't control his animals so I know that makes it his fault and not theirs, but it still makes me angry they were off the lead. All the websites say to see a doctor, regardless of how minor the bite might look. Nothing we can do tonight but we need to find a doctor in the morning. I think there is a walk-in surgery in San Ginesio. Bad start to the holiday. We are now home and drinking (for medicinal purposes of course).
For many people this would appear to be their daily breakfast but I treat myself to a pastry on a Sunday morning as I watch the market trade go by. The choice is filled with confectioner's custard, with jam or plain. I have brought my skipping rope with me so extra skipping tonight! Actually my family arrives today which means plenty of tennis as they all play and as San Ginesio hosts a summer tennis school, the town is well served for courts. They are down by the city walls and I have never seen a more spectacular setting for a tennis game. I then bought lunch at the local mini-mart. The deli counter has a great selection of cold meats and cheese and the staff are just lovely. So my brother, sister-in-law and nieces should be here around 3pm - can't wait to see them. And I know that my mother is catching up on the blog at my other brother's this morning - so hello mum. Is this the blog equivalent to those people who stand in the background when the TV cameras are interviewing outdoors, mouthing "hello mum"? Probably. I have just seen my ex neighbour on the way back from the shops and he was surprised that the owner of the house hasn't been round to tidy the garden. Let's hope he comes when we are in Venice and then I don't have to explain where his trees have gone. Not that he'll care (hopefully).
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