Wherever I lay my hat

I don’t want you to think that after all the excitement of a week in the big city, life in downtown MS Pietrangeli was something of an anti-climax. That it wasn’t is due, in part, to our semi-permanent houseguests making a return visit, but also to the frantic pace of life here in our little backwater. And if you believe that, well, you know the rest.

Monday supplied a break in the usual routine when I headed to Porto San Giorgio for a 9am lesson with Michele, the boy who I taught last year during the summer. That was because his mum, as did he, felt a little lost with his English at his Scuola Media and he felt he would benefit from a boost to his confidence. It is very much the same this time, though based on Monday’s lesson he is much more at ease with speaking English and his skill level, from what I know of these things, doesn’t seem anything to cause concern. The first lesson had been arranged by WhatsApp while I was in Bologna, and at the end it was agreed with his mum that I would come twice a week for ninety minutes, which was preferable to three times a week for an hour, which is what was suggested at first. This way I have a third less driving time and Michele only has two mornings at the beach disrupted and not three.

Stephen came with me on this first trip, partly because he wanted to make sure I knew where I was going (for, as Harold Skimpole would say, I am a mere child) but also because he wanted to call in at Autopompei on the way back to check up on the car, which had been there almost a fortnight. The lady on reception in the service area was most sympathetic, but said that they hadn’t, as yet, been able to find a replacement cable as, with the Freeclimber being an old model, Daihatsu was no longer making parts for it. They had tried several avenues and had a couple more to follow, so with any luck something will turn up. We left, not totally satisfied but there was not much else we could do, for the moment.

It was my turn to have some work done on me when I went to see Claudia, the dentist, on Tuesday morning for the next stage in the saga that is my replacement tooth. With everything being in order as far as the gum was concerned it was time to take a mould of my teeth so that the false tooth could be made. This doesn’t sound like an onerous task, and it isn’t really, though having to sit for what seems ages with a gum shield containing a moulding agent while it sets sufficiently and then feeling like you are going to loose all your remaining teeth when Claudia has to wrestle it out of your mouth is slightly disconcerting. I just have to wait another fortnight for the tooth to be made and then hopefully, that will be that.

Wednesday saw the return of two familiar faces to LCDDB when Douglas and Susan arrived for two weeks of fresh air and fun. As they had experimented with an elegant variation to the route from Yorkshire to Le Marche, (train to Gatwick, Gatwick to Ancona, car hire from Ancona to MSP) it was nigh on teatime before they arrived, leaving little time for anything other than settling in and having dinner a casa. They did, together with Stephen, take the opportunity of a free ride the next morning when I went to Porto San Giorgio for Michele’s second lesson of the week so they could browse the market and search out a suitable birthday present for Maddalena. Whilst there was nothing that tempted any of them to buy on the stalls, they had carried out a successful recce and located a jeweller’s with a couple of bracelets that (a) they all liked and (b) were in the correct price bracket. All that was needed was my approval and my bankcard and Maddalena’s present was secured.

This was just as well, as we were due to meet up with her and Marco at the pub that night, and we were already late with the gift. The MacIntosh is Douglas and Susan’s second favourite spot to eat in Le Marche, not because they have modest expectations but because it has fabulous pasta and there is nothing quite like it anywhere in the UK. As for their favourite, that revelation will have to wait a few days, but I can reveal that Maddalena was delighted with her bracelet, so sighs of relief all round and no need for her to make a surreptitious visit to the jeweller’s.

Douglas and Susan were under their own steam on Friday when, after the obligatory breakfast in Pina and shopping in Sigma (as the saying goes, when in Monte San Pietrangeli do as the Monte San Pietrangelians do) they headed off to visit Montegiorgio, a small town about fifteen minutes southwest of MSP. There is not really anything that marks it out from any of the other towns in the area, but as they had never been there Susan wanted to see what it was like and tick it off her list, and Douglas was quite happy to go alone with it.

Yesterday, as I had a lesson in the morning, Douglas and Susan again amused themselves with a trip into MSP, stopping off at the Nero Giardini outlet on the way back. Susan was not wasting anytime before hitting that shopping experience and came home for lunch the proud owner of a new dress, in a classic cut and classic colour. Douglas came home with nothing but was quite happy for Susan to have purchased. You may be seeing a pattern beginning to emerge… Shopping was also on the agenda later in the afternoon as we stopped off at Girasole in a slight detour on our way to Totò for aperitivo (no, that is not their favourite spot to eat, though it does rank highly, I believe).

Today being Sunday, was beach walking but not quiet as usual as our houseguests came along with us. Now, I’m not sure how familiar you are with Italian beach life but what is so comforting about it is that it is a totally safe space. Whatever your age, size or shape you can let it all hang out (if you forgive the image that might conjure) in bikini, bathing costume, bathing shorts or whatever your preferred swimwear option is for that day. You are not there so much to see and be seen, but to soak the rays, walk along the beach, stand in the sea and pass the time of day with any passing acquaintances.

Susan went a little way to meeting the dress code as she did wear a sleeveless blouse and her shorts were on the short side, but Douglas in his white beanie hat, baggy white polo, knee length khaki shorts and sandals (with socks, and not in an ironic Hipster way) looked like he was modelling for the Where’s Wally for Dummies edition. Still, as Stephen and I strode out and he and Susan were happy to amble along some way behind, it did mean that they were easy to spot amongst all the Italian beach addicts who were displaying considerably more flesh. And even if our visitors looked somewhat incongruous it really didn’t matter as, like I said, no one judges you on an Italian beach – not till they get home, anyway.