Many happy returns

After last week’s blip, water has continued uninterrupted over the past seven days, which was a great relief not only to us but also to our houseguests who arrived on Thursday. The reason why no one came to tell me that the trench had been filled in also became clear, which was because it hadn’t been. It remained a gash in the landscape till yesterday morning when Stephen spied Loris in his yellow digger busy at work, raising a vague optimism that if Mario and Luigi had brought him in to do the work then they might pay. As they say, hope springs eternal…

I busied myself with various domestic matters and lessons at the start of the week, while Stephen was still in Milan. He returned on Wednesday night, just in time to do the floors and clean the shower cubicle (things not included, obviously, in my various domestic matters) before Douglas and Susan arrived for their current stay on Thursday afternoon. They had been very adventurous this time, spending three days in and around Pisa before an audacious journey across country to MSP, involving no less than four trains. The last of these took them from Ancona station to the airport where they picked up the hire car for the last leg, which at least freed them from having to deal with any more ladies of a certain age adept at playing on their advancing years to feign ignorance or confusion or both when being caught red-bottomed in the wrong seat.

All things considered, they made very good time, arriving at LCDDB just after 4pm and shortly before I returned from my lesson with the Marzia and Diego (Filippo, having graduated to senior school, would appear to be now too grand to joins us). It was partway through the lesson that the children’s grandfather came into the dining room where we work and placed a bowl on the table full of a small, glossy, mahogany-coloured fruit which at first I took to be a strange type of cherry. They were, I was told, giuggiole and had come from a tree in the garden. Although in size and shape they resembled a cherry, when I bit into one all similarity stopped. Inside they were a pale, peppermint green colour with a firm, almost crunchy texture and a surprisingly sweet edge. A quick check on Google Translate showed their English name to be jujube, which left me none the wiser. When I asked what they did with them, I was told that they just ate them as they were – though according to later research on the Internet they seem to be one of these Eastern foods that are a general, all-round panacea. So if you suffer from stress, insomnia, ulcers, rheumatism, unwanted spasms or rampant fertility, I would lobby your nearest branch of Holland and Barrett to stock an ample supply.

That evening we ate at the pub with Marco and Maddalena, which seemed to be the start of a minor hedonistic period that lasted over the weekend. The following day we all took a trip to Fabi in the afternoon as I wanted to get a new pair of trousers and a shirt for an up-coming social event (more on that soon) and Stephen took the opportunity of buying a pair of shoes to wow them with at Linea Pelle next week. On the way back we stopped off in Monte San Giusto to try out Il Pineta, a recently-opened bar and gelateria, where we discovered the joys of spritz ice cream, containing your actual prosecco, in very stylish surroundings.

Which brings us to Saturday and the reason why it was a celebratory weekend – and not because Loris was spotted in the field filling in trench over the renegade pipe, nor because the Mayor’s go-to man for such areas came to check on the condition of the road. Apparently, it was his second visit, and he told Stephen that yes, it did need a bit of renovation work doing to it, but it would have to wait till November as everywhere was too dry at the moment. At least we know that we have not been forgotten and that we are in safe hands with Sig Casenove, the Sindaco.

For those who have not figured it out yet, the actual reason was that yesterday was my birthday, which, along with having Douglas and Susan visiting, was a good enough reason to take things a little easier and to get out and about a bit in the glorious sunshine. This was helped in the morning by Lorella having to cancel her lesson, which meant that instead of Stephen going off alone on a secret mission, we were all under strict instructions to be ready to leave LCDDB at 10.45 to depart for parts unknown. The clandestine destination didn’t remain so for very long, as ten minutes was enough to bring us to Totò’s car park where he was due to collect the birthday cake he had ordered for me. This also gave us an excuse for a preprandial gargle as we enjoyed a bottle of prosecco (this time without the ice cream component) and a few light bites. We were joined a little while later, again, by Marco and Maddalena, who were out and about getting a few bits and pieces done, and who gave me a lovely cookbook of regional Italian dishes. At least there shouldn’t be any trouble in getting the ingredient for those recipes.

After lunch and a bit of a rest we headed in the opposite direction, up the autostrada to Porto Recanati, somewhere we hadn’t been the whole summer. It may not be everybody’s idea of an exciting birthday outing, but a walk beside the beach, followed by a browse round the shops before stopping off at Café Giorgio was eminently satisfying. Here we had another plate of nice things, which meant all that was left to complete a lovely day was to head home to cut into my birthday cake and wash it down with another spot of something fizzy – and I don’t mean Lucozade.

Today has been even hotter, with temperatures nudging 30C, so the decision to have Sunday lunch outside at Oasi Belvedere was a good move. Not that we were certain we would have a table, as when Stephen phoned yesterday to book, it went straight to voicemail and no one had called back to confirm. We thought we might not be in luck when we drove into the car park, for though there were several cars parked, the people milling around in the garden in front of the agriturismo had the casual summer look that suggested they were gathered for some sort of celebration. Stephen went in to see if we would be able to eat there, and was told that if we didn’t mind sitting outside (well, no), as the dining room was being used for a 50th wedding anniversary lunch party, it would be all right.

We had thought that service might be a bit slow with there being a function, but that wasn’t the case. The food was as good as the last time, with a primo of homemade tagliatelle with duck ragù that I can highly recommend. And the service was attentive without either rushing us or keeping us waiting, and moved at an acceptably leisurely speed. That said, we were still way ahead of the anniversary party, who were just about to start their second pasta course as we were having coffee and limoncello (homemade like the tagliatelle). As we all know by now, celebratory meals in Italy exist in a very particular space-time continuum, so we left them to it and headed home to put our feet up, loosen our belts and snooze a little, passing the rest of the day in a continuum of our own.