Widening our horizons

After my two trips out last week there was no stopping me as life in and around LCDDB seemed almost back to normal – that is, if you except masks, social distancing, no lessons apart from Marzia and Diego and a very quiet weekend with not even a trip out to test my eyesight for driving. There was, however, enough happening during the week to keep me happily occupied.

It all started on Monday, funnily enough. Stephen had his usual start-of-the-week morning at the factory and then after lunch we got in the car and headed northeast to Corridomnia for the longest journey either of us has done in a long time. The reason? A trip to Risparmio Casa to stock up on various household cleaning products and other exciting things such as mouthwash and shampoo. I hope you won’t think the less of us when you know that we ignored the sign saying one person per nuclear family since, as Italy does not recognise our marital status due to our alternative lifestyle and for some bizarre reason dogs aren’t considered as children, we don’t actually fit into that category. Oh the joy of pushing a trolley around a large expanse of retail space and tossing bottle after packet after tube into it with gay (see previously) abandon.

Stephen had another morning at the factory on Tuesday, during which he called up the insurance man who had dealt with the Freelander last year as the time was near, or so we thought, for renewal of the cover for the car. How foolish we were. You’d have thought that by know we would remember that time operates differently on the peninsula and not have bothered the agent so rashly. He was genuinely puzzled as to why Stephen had called him as the insurance didn’t expire till 9th June. That wasn’t for another two weeks so there was no rush. He had intended to contact us a couple of days ahead of that time to sort things out, and promised he would still do that, so we will sit on our metaphorically slapped hands and await his call. Needless to say, there has been no reminder from the insurance company, because why would they want to be so organised?

It was three days in a row at the factory on Wednesday morning for Stephen, which meant that I was holding the fort on my own when Bella and Harry started barking at a small white van coming down the road. I thought at first that it was either Mario or Luigi checking something in the barn but when it drew up outside it beeped its horn peremptorily to demand my attention. Donning my mask, which delay caused a second, longer beep, I went out onto the terrazzo. The writing on the side of the van gave me a clue that it was something to do with electrics, and when the man wound down his window I knew he was looking for something but was at a loss as to what that might be. All was made clear when he suddenly pointed behind me to the white cover by the door and I made a mental note to remember to add ‘electricity meter’ to my list of need-to-know vocabulary.

After making sure Bella and Harry were stowed away inside, due to the man’s fear of dogs, he came up (unmasked) and set about replacing the current meter with a new one while I kept a social distance. He was a man of few words, but after my difficulty with understanding his original question the ones he did bark out were in English, proving once again that to be understood in another language all you need are a loud voice, a finger to point and a range of high-frequency nouns. It didn’t take him long to finish his job, after which I checked the electricity was working ok and he went down for a quick cigarette before making a bit of heavy weather of getting up the hill while Bella and Harry, newly released, accompanied his laboured exit with a volley of barks.

Language was also the focus of the afternoon when Stephen and I sat down to go through the transcript of Manuel’s web site, in particular the mission statement, which seemed to have gone through the Stanley Unwin deluxe version of Google Translate. Not that I’m saying I could have done better in Italian, but at least we were able to rejig it to make sense within the realms of what passes for English in current commercial jargon. Stephen took our revisions to his bff, who was very pleased with what we had done. He wanted to give us some sort of remuneration for our time, so Stephen said he could take us out for a fish dinner, so that while Stephen polishes off plates of various sea creatures in various culinary guises, I can see if the bread warrants a 5 star rating. In the meantime, I am more than satisfied with the jaunty blue polka dot mask he sent, a sample of one of his current range of Covid chic.

While we will have to wait for that delight, we treated ourselves on Stephen’s return to a much overdue trip to Totò and our first aperitivo since goodness knows when. There were, of course, some changes compared with our last, pre-lockdown visit, most notably a one-way system past the counter, slightly fewer goods on display and having to sit two table-widths apart, but what hadn’t changed was the quality of the food. So thrilled were we that as well as aperitivo we splashed out on a ricotta, orange and dark chocolate crostata and an artisanal loaf to take away and enjoy in the comfort of our own home.

After a quiet day a casa on Thursday it was time for the grand finale of the week on Friday when I made not one but two trips out. The first was in the morning and as it was Stephen’s turn for a haircut at Rocco’s, shopping duties fell on my shoulders for the first time in eleven and a half weeks. Breakfast at Bar del Borgo set me up for this challenge, but in the event it was, while a little strange, not a totally alien experience compared with before. OK, I had to wear a mask and ok, people were very aware of keeping a certain distance, but other than that the only really noticeable things were that it took me twice as long and that I did the whole shopping wearing a pair of plastic gloves, using the ones required for handling the fruit and veg.

Actually, it was these gloves (apart from having to queue at the meat counter) that, I think, were responsible for the increase in the time spent, for the following reasons:

1. Opening a bag to put the fruit in was a bit of a Krypton Factor challenge when the plastic of the bag slid against the plastic of the gloves, there being no traction from bare fingers. Pulling down my mask and blowing it open crossed my mind but was hastily dismissed for obvious reasons and my one attempt to inflate the bag by whipping it round quickly so the air opened it balloon-like was so ineffectual it wasn’t worth the risk of trying again and becoming the talking point of MSP.

2. While weighing the fruit and punching in the code for the price ticket was easy-peasy, taking the said ticket and attaching it to the bag was not as it attached first of all to the glove. Even taking a tentative hold by the corner meant a degree of adhesion, resulted in exposed tips of fingers and a certain amount of manoeuvring to get it onto the bag.

3. Because of these ragged fingers, when I finished with the fruit and veg I thought it would be a good idea to dispose of these ragged gloves and put on a fresh pair. Not a good idea, as I should have realised with a bit of forethought, for the plastic had made my hands sweat to such an extent that I could only get the new gloves partway on before they started sticking. Five minutes of gentle coaxing eventually got them three-quarters of the way there, and working on the basis that I wasn’t going to be called on to perform microsurgery that was probably good enough for picking up a box of pasta.

Stephen, bless him, had had his hair cut and beard trimmed (necessitating the donning of a Plexiglas face mask by Rocco), and was patiently pacing the front of the supermarket by the time I made it to the checkout, where for once things went smoothly. I suppose now we are paying by debit card the efficient lady on the till doesn’t need to give me pitying looks as I fumble over getting the money correct.

One thing I didn’t need to buy at the supermarket was the components for our home-assembled pizza as my other trip was when we reinstated our traditional Friday night dinner. The pizzeria had been open since last Saturday, but we didn’t want to pre-empt our enjoyment and spent the time waiting carefully considering the pizza we were going to choose to celebrate this post-lockdown milestone. Stephen shunned his usual favourites of quattro stagioni or quattro formaggi (with salsiccia for extra saturated fat), while I forwent my go-to option of mare e monte, as tuna and mushrooms have been our staple over the past several weeks. In a spooky meeting of minds, I had decided some time in the afternoon that what was called for was a capricciosa, and when I asked Stephen what he was going to have as I was getting ready to leave he said… capricciosa. Weird, eh? Fortunately, there was nothing weird about the pizze, which were just as good as in the days of the old normal.

I think you will agree all that was quite enough excitement, and a weekend of recuperation was in order. I did find time this morning to make another batch of rock buns with a spare egg that was hanging around, which seems to have become a routine - though no one as yet, to the best of my knowledge, has flagged it as part of the new normal. Someone needs to get priorities right.