Just passing through

Monday started off as Sunday finished, with rain, and whilst it was kind of the weather gods to make us feel as if we were back in Britain, we have to say that Italy is now our home so please don’t make any exceptions just for us.

Tuesday was a little better, with the rain easing but the temperatures were decidedly on the chilly side for the time of year. You might have thought that was why there was a tractor parked outside Sigma, more or less in the lines, when we went to do the shopping. Not so, as Stephen explained, for the driver of said tractor is actually banned from driving his car so has taken to his tractor instead. He can be seen, if you are lucky enough, making stately progress on the road to Rapagnano when matters further afield need his attention. I suppose you have to admire his doggedness – or should that be cussedness – though you might be less sympathetic if you are caught behind him on the winding road out of town.

Stephen was out late on Tuesday night, leaving LCDDB at some time just after 10, when he went to meet his sister, Jacky, at Ancona airport. This was not only her first time in MSP but also her first time in Italy, so we were slightly relieved when the weather improved a little over the rest of the week. Some periods of sunshine even allowed her to soak up a few rays on the terrazzo. She did, like the rest of us, though, have to take cover on Thursday afternoon when we had one of those shortish but intense cloudbursts that we have come to know if not quite love – mainly because we fear the worst for the road. On this occasion we were justified, as the quantity of water flooding down not only scarified a large proportion of the top section but cut channels into the side as well. The road had withstood the worst of the winter, but as winter does not provoke the downpours that spring and summer do, nor was it particularly snowy, then maybe we shouldn’t be too surprised.

As far as other things go, Wednesday saw my first lesson with the three staff at Mancini, which must have given satisfaction as they became four on Friday. I would say that they were all very nice and very keen, even if a little giddy at times, but as I always seem to say that about my students I won’t. Jacky, meanwhile, had a taste of working life when she accompanied Stephen on his rounds on Thursday morning, taking in the Carellis’ factory as well as a couple of others. What she made of them I’m not sure, being too diplomatic to pronounce judgement on the madness that passes for commercial acumen in parochial Le Marche. I just hope she wasn’t too bored, what with not speaking Italian and therefore being unable to appreciate the full surreal quality of it all.

Fortunately, the weather seemed to improve towards the weekend and it was a particularly fine morning yesterday when we took Jacky to Porto San Giorgio to watch that day’s stage of the Giro d’Italia (or alternatively, for sporting philistines like me, a bike ride round Italy). It was due along the main road through the town somewhere just past midday, depending on how prompt they were setting off and how fast they were going. It did mean, however, that the road itself would be closed to traffic from about 10.30, which is why we made sure we were in PSG before that time. Fortunately, the race coincided with a weekend flower market so there was something for us to do (apart from coffee and cake at La Petite) to pass the time before staking our place at a strategic vantage point.

Having friends in high places came in useful when Mr Mancini, a cycling enthusiast and who had been invited to watch the start of the race down the coast at Tortoreto Lido by one of the teams, which uses his pasta to pump carbohydrates into their cyclists, kept his promise and sent me a message when the race started. Despite this information, there was still some hanging around as various support and promotional vehicles and the odd police motorcyclist went past, becoming more frequent as the riders came nearer. An announcement said that there was a gap of five minutes between the leaders and the chasing pack, but it was still a surprise when not long after this only two Lycra-clad cyclists zipped past in just a few seconds, proving something less of a spectacle than I had anticipated.

Sure enough, though, five minutes later a whole cohort followed, proving much more exciting as it took some time for them to pass by, especially as some stragglers (who obviously hadn’t been training on Mancini pasta) were lagging somewhat behind. I have to say, though, that there was a certain pleasure in watching an important sporting event on one’s doorstep, especially one that didn’t give you enough time to get bored, and Jacky was more than happy to have seen it. That, together with the artisanal honey and selection of herbs we’d bought at the market, made for a very pleasant interlude.

It was just as well we made the most of the morning as the rain returned in the afternoon with another heavy downpour, and as the forecast for today showed a similar pattern (dry then wet) we decided not to venture far from home. We took Jacky for a spot of shopping to Girosole then moved on to Fermo for a wander through the square and up to the duomo before heading home for a little smackerel, beating the rain in the process.

I don’t want you to think, however, that the weekend was without its cultural highlights, as we did all settle down to watch the Eurovision Song Contest last night. Jacky, obviously not a fan, managed to make it through the songs but showed distinct lack of backbone by heading to bed to watch the Cup Final highlights on her iPad, missing out not only the excitement of voting but also the half-time entertainment. If only she had stuck around she could have seen – and heard - Madonna proving that in the modern world of pop music, not being able to actually sing is no obstacle to selling countless millions of records worldwide.