Dreams are made of this

Today has been a quiet, stay at home day, which is just as well after the action filled social whirl of yesterday - so where to begin?

I guess the best place would be at the beginning. So, yesterday morning we went in search of a bathroom and started at a small but ultra stylish shop in Magliano di Tenna, fifteen minutes away, that we had spotted briefly the other day. When I say started, I should also add finished, as we spent a good hour discussing the possibilities with the remarkably chic lady who is obviously the brains of the organisation and is as slim as she is fashionably elegant. Various options of tiling, fittings and fixtures were discussed, all based around the sink unit (unit? such a utilitarian word for the style statement we saw in the window) we would like to possess. The outcome is we will return on Tuesday when she has had time to cost up what we would like to do and then look at what we can actually afford… but there again the shop is called Dream Ceramiche so maybe she will make ours come true. (Sorry but I couldn’t resist it.)

In the afternoon we headed back to Lido di Fermo for the second time, but on this occasion no prawns were harmed in the process as we went to help Elsa at her new apartment minutes from the beach. When I say help, what actually happened was we sat and talked to her while a couple of men completed unpacking and fitting the kitchen and living room furniture she had ordered. The apartment is a new, purpose built one with enough room to eat, sleep and wash in between days at the beach and evenings on the promenade.

Whilst we were there, her husband Giovanni appeared with his boss, Marco the Maresciallo, who could have been a silver fox if he laid off the ebony hair dye (be warned, remember what happed to Stephen) and who showed us pictures of his barbecue, which looked big enough to supply grilled sausages to 5000 and counting. One does have to worry about the detection skills of the local Carabinieri though, as he asked Stephen if we were twins (?) and then brothers, going on to compound the situation by saying that, as he was the older brother, Stephen should be flattered by the question.

With consummate timing, Stephen and I had to leave Lido di Fermo just as the men had finished and were packing away and the cleaning was beckoning, as we had a date at one of the premier social events of the shoe world in Le Marche (more by default than anything, I think).

Yesterday, Stephen received a call from a certain Tony Gibbs, someone that he used to do some work for and with whom he has kept in touch as well as occasionally bumping into at various shoe shows. He was due to attend the 50th anniversary party of Spernanzoni, a shoe factory in Morrovalle, and had said that we were invited as well. Having mentally checked that we could dress with understated casual elegance, Stephen accepted the proxy invitation on our behalf.

The party was held at the Gergo Lounge outdoor swimming pool and bar complex in the town, and featured the great and the good of the local shoe industry. There was, however, no consensus as to the dress code for the evening, ranging from the very casual to the very formal though everyone sported a band wrapped round the wrist as you entered to show it was all inclusive. There were a choice of small marquees serving food (porchetta, panzanella, frito misto, chips, etc, etc), a couple of tables serving wine and water and a bar for cocktails that looked like a neon cube. We queued for some time waiting for a slice of pizza, fresh from a wood burning oven – though the young man in the black suit serving would have done well to a) look vaguely bothered and b) take his fingers out of his mouth while waiting for the pizze to cook.

We met up with Tony and his charming wife, Norika, who was remarkable at foraging for food. Off she would dart and return in moments with some goody or other. Stephen also chatted with a few members of the shoe fraternity, including Guy West, a sparring partner of old, and nodded at various others whom he recognised but whose names he couldn’t remember (there’s a surprise). We stayed long enough to drink a little, eat a bit and show our faces, but left just as the spectacular featuring a well-known comic was about to start. It also appears, judging by Tony’s pictures on Facebook today, that we missed out on the speeches and numerous presentations. A narrow escape there then.