Gather round

I will, at the outset, apologise to both my devoted readers for the paucity of today’s offering. After last week’s blog equivalent of ‘War and Peace’, this is more like an edition of the Beano, only without the colourful characters and amusing storylines. I promise to try and do better in future.

Mind you, whilst it was life in the slow lane here at LCDDB, it was a different story for Stephen, who headed off to the big city on Tuesday morning when I dropped him, early doors, at the train station in Civitanova. His destination was Milan to check out the shops and also spend a day on Wednesday at Anteprima, a sort of warm up for Lineapelle in September. His verdict on his return on Thursday (when I was able to use the new car park and for free as, being Italy, they haven’t got round to installing any barriers yet) was that it had been a worthwhile trip. This was partly due, oddly enough, to its size: being a mini-me to the main event it was considerably smaller but meant that any exhibitors and visitors were there to do business and not just to see and be seen.

I did have one moment of excitement during Stephen’s viaggio when, on Wednesday afternoon, an unfamiliar car came skittering down the road and stopped outside the house. It turned out to be two members of the Guardia di Finanza, which caused my heart to miss a beat. The Guardia di Finanza is an arm of the military police that deals with financial crime and smuggling, but it has also become Italy’s main body for tackling the drugs trade. You can see, therefore, why it caused me, initially, some consternation. However, during our conversation in faltering Italian (mine, not theirs) it turned out that they were looking for the Chinese people who had rented house and used the downstairs as a factory.

I confirmed that I was the owner and had been so for the past year but was unable to give them any information other than that. Did I know anyone who could help them? I pointed up the hill to Mario and Luigi’s house, and told them they were the people we bought the house from. They absorbed this information and I’m not sure which of us was more relieved: me at offloading responsibility to someone else or them at not having to deal with a lunatic any further. However, the driver did give me a charming smile as he got back into the car; ‘Goodbye’ he said, in impeccable English. I can’t think how he sussed out I wasn’t Italian.

There was another moment of vicarious excitement when I took Bella and Harry for their last round of the local bushes before bedtime, accompanied by the sound of pulsating music. Looking across the valley it was obvious that it was coming from Mancini, local producers of fine pasta, as their building, which usually blends in with the surrounding countryside, was ablaze with lights. Apparently, the factory was celebrating the completion of a successful harvest and, judging by the pictures on Facebook the next day, no expense had been spared. Signore Mancini himself was seen drifting through the photos looking like the man from Del Monte, complete with Panama hat.

How different from the couple of days spent by Mario and Luigi harvesting their bean and wheat crops, which were altogether more prosaic but no less important. And how different, as well, from Britain where harvesting doesn’t happen till well into autumn. It does seem strange to see combine harvesters in the fields and tractors pulling heavy loads of grain through the town in early July, but it is just another of the many variances in the rhythm of life in Le Marche.

And that is about it for the week. Friday night was pub night and we were joined by Maddalena for a panino and chips as Marco was off on a boys’ night out. As Stephen was driving and I was being abstemious, we only polished off half of our bottle of our wine, so we sealed it with the cork Stephen keeps about his person for just such an event, meaning to finish it off back home. Which we did, but not till the next night after we had gone back to collect it, for one of us, mentioning no names, had forgotten to pick it up when we left.

As for today, having spent time at home doing odds and ends, we had an early evening jaunt to Porto San Giorgio for a walk along the promenade and an ice cream at Amati, a gelateria recommended by my student, Irene, who has her finger on the pulse regarding anything to do with eating out. In fact, when I asked her for a recommendation, she gave me so many that it looks like we might have to spend more Sundays working our way through the whole list. Well, it’s a tough job but someone has to do it…