That lonesome road

I’m pleased to say that by the end of this week, the weather had got its act together and finally delivered what we should expect in June. It was, however, a little late to save the road, which is currently in the worst state we have experienced since buying the house almost five years ago now. More of that later, after an update on Mum.

She was transferred on Monday from the hospital to a nursing home not far from where my Dad lives and will now be there permanently as she requires a degree of care that it is not possible to provide at home. This was obviously very disappointing to Dad, especially as the current situation makes any sort of contact or communication very difficult. However, he was taken to see her on Friday morning, at a virus-safe distance, and was reassured to some extent that she was looking as well as could be expected under the circumstances.

As for my week, that started with another change to my admittedly limited routine when the timing of my lesson with the Montegranaro Two was changed yet again due to Diego’s gradual transformation into Sporty Spice. With the further relaxation of lockdown arrangements, in addition to his tennis training, he has now started sessions with a personal trainer at the gym and 10.15 on a Monday morning must be the only time he can fit me in. Not that I am complaining. With only one lesson a week you’d think that it wouldn’t much matter when it happened, but the rhythms of the working week still hold sway and knowing that you have completed your duties on Monday morning rather than waiting till Friday afternoon is somehow very satisfying.

That, as I said, was in the morning, and in the afternoon we were visited by one of those diluvial downpours that are intent on sweeping away not only mankind and its sins but also a large proportion of the earth with them. Coming on top of last week’s opening salvoes the battering had a drastic effect on the road to the house, gouging new and further opening up existing crevices as well as washing away a deal of the surface. This made Tuesday morning’s shopping expedition more exciting, with Stephen successfully navigating the optimum route. This is more than can be said for the afternoon when, on returning from the factory, he hit a patch that was still so spongy from all the recent rain that it sort of sucked him into it and carried him away to the side.

He was, at first, mightily concerned that he was stuck there, but fortunately (and this is why one buys a Panda) he was with a wing, a prayer and a gritting of teeth able to slowly reverse out and continue down the hill. This prompted him the next day to head back up, on foot, and try to effect some rudimentary repairs as best he could with only a shovel, but it made only a slight difference to some of the worst areas. Before he did this, however, he took a series of pictures which he printed out and took to the Comune on Thursday morning where the local Guardia officiously reprimanded him for using the wrong door to enter the building. To comply with Covid-19, there is one set of doors for entry and one for exit; the only problem with this is no one has thought to put any signs on these doors.

Being barred from the inner sanctum, Stephen explained the situation to the youth who came to the other side of the chain defence (a nice boy, of whom I’m sure his mother is very proud, but I don’t think he is in a position to make unilateral decisions) who looked suitably shocked, while the girl who accompanied him audibly gasped, and said that someone would be to look at the road. Stephen said he could keep the pictures as evidence and then showed him some of the leaning electricity pole, which unlike the tower of Pisa, is gradually heading nearer the earth and is causing us more than a little disquiet. We had been told by various locals that this was the responsibility of the Comune, which did surprise us and rightly so for the nice boy said that we had to contact Enel (he believed) about this. Who’d have thought that the village voices would be a source of misinformation?

While all this was going on there were good things as well, including our first breakfast on Tuesday morning at Hotel Pina since before lockdown, and what a joy it was to be back. Things were almost the same; there had been a rearrangement of cabinets to allow for social distancing of tables and there was no homemade ciambellone on offer, with breakfast limited to brioche and strictly no self-service but otherwise it was comfortingly familiar.

Also on Tuesday I had my first chat, via Skype, with my new conversation partner. I know I am probably late to the party with this one, and I should have investigated this a while ago, but last weekend I placed a profile on a site for finding people looking to chat in their target language. I was pleasantly surprised when I received a message within twenty-four hours, which I followed up, hence an initial, brief chat on Tuesday with Patrizia from Macerata. We arranged to talk again, for longer on Wednesday, splitting our time 50/50 English/Italian, and very nice she is too. So nice, in fact, that we chatted again on Friday when I managed to tell her the plot of Madame Bovary (which I finished reading recently) and talk about it too – though maybe not to Front Row standards.

Friday also marked an important milestone in the year when Stephen harvested our first courgette of the season – yes, just the one as yet – which, when grated, made a tasty addition to our salad on Saturday. We were able to edge into summer food as in a complete turnaround following a disastrous first half of the month, weather wise, when we went out shopping yesterday afternoon it was with car windows down to catch the air as the temperature climbed towards the 30C mark.

We were out looking for a few bits and pieces, and were slightly more successful than last Sunday as this time when we went to Girasole the L’Ebolario shop was open. I was able to make use of my discount voucher and the very nice lady gave us lots of free samples to try, including two small tubs of rose scented hand cream – presumably because it is this year’s must have for the butch man about town.

I don’t want you to think that the shopping supplanted Saturday baking, it just shunted it to today instead when apart from the now obligatory rock buns (so useful when you have a random egg) I made polpettone (for slicing up and eating with salad now that summer seems to have arrived) and a new (to us) Nigella biscuit recipe, which is most toothsome.

As if that was not enough excitement for one weekend, I also received today another message on the conversation website from someone in the Ravenna area. As it didn’t come through till later on I will follow it up tomorrow, though a quick look at his profile suggests that his level of English might be somewhat higher than my Italian. He also seems to have a much more interesting range of interests than the ones I have listed, but I bet he can’t make double chocolate and pumpkin seed cookies.