Ballyhoo

15th January 2023

The more perspicacious of my two devoted readers will have realised that there has been a bit of a hiatus to my musings, leaving you hanging for three weeks desperate to know what happened about our alleged missing Comune payment.

We went on the Tuesday morning of the next week, proofs of payment in hand, and explained the situation to one of the clerks who came out to see us at the desk in the entrance hall (a legacy of lockdown days, when they obviously realised it was better to have some form of crowd control rather than just let anyone wander into the back offices).

She looked at our document and said that it was probably because at the Post Office they had entered the wrong code for the Comune and the money had gone to the incorrect authority – which seemed strange as the other tranche, which was paid at the same time, was fine. She then disappeared into the back and returned after a while to say that having looked at the records it was because the year had been entered incorrectly (see previous comments). Whichever, she said that it was all ok now and that confirmation of this would be sent out – and yes you are correct, nothing has yet been received.

When Bertrando was told about it, he, having inside knowledge of the Comune’s workings, said it was because they don’t know what they are doing. That seems a little harsh, and I could not possibly agree with such an analysis of the situation.

It was just after this that personal circumstances meant my absence from MSP for almost two weeks, so I will gloss over those. Stephen remained here and after seeing in the New Year at Marco and Maddalena’s in the company of another couple of friends (and one of Totò's finest chocolate logs) , found early January a bit on the busy side. Not only did he have a lot on at work, but he also had to juggle this with looking after the dogs and making sure he was around to take them for their walks as well as keeping on top of things domestically.

I returned home early this last week, and it has been somewhat run-of-the-mill since then as I have got back into the old routine, with lessons gradually resuming and, more importantly, breakfast at Pina on Tuesday morning and a haircut on Friday. Whilst I have been ticking over, Stephen has been an extra busy bee, starting with many demands made on his time and expertise on Wednesday. Amongst these was a young American, let’s call him Orlando, who Skyped him to talk shoe matters. Orlando may have had the appearance of someone on work experience from school, but don’t let looks deceive you for the erstwhile graphic designer proudly told Stephen and Bertrando that he was now the Creative Leader. Well, that’s nice to know.

He also caused a smidgeon of, well, not so much confusion as misinformation due to the idiosyncratic pronunciation of foreign words that Americans seem to embrace. When discussing sample production, he said that, if necessary, he could collect them as he was coming to Italy for the ballet (as in bal-lay, with the emphasis on the second syllable – which is no doubt how it is pronounced in the best circles), no doubt the sort of thing you find yourself doing when a Creative Leader. He is not, it turned out however, to be judged on for such highfalutin whims as it transpired during a further conversation the next day that he wasn’t so much flying the Atlantic so see the ballet as to see Bally, the luxury shoe brand.

Continuing his busy week, Stephen and I were like passing ships on Thursday when he managed to get half an hour at home for lunch while I had a 1.15 lesson and had to abandon him halfway through his pasta. Friday he was not home till 7.30, and then yesterday morning he was on the factory floor helping to make sure that the copious samples were ready for a certain mystery client who I am not at liberty to divulge. And ready they were, and he was home half an hour before his ETA of two o’clock, in which he was better off then Bertrando who had to drive like the wind to Milan, but as he is an Italian in a big Mercedes, that is not much of an ask.

Which brings us to today, and the question of how a jaded wayfarer and an over-worked and under-appreciated shoe stylist recharge their batteries. Why, stocking up on basics at Risparmio Casa followed by lunch at Diverxo, the Corridomnia fusion restaurant, of course. Mind you, we did almost miss out on the latter as when we arrived, fortunately nice and early, the lady asked us if we had booked. No, we replied, and she ran her pen over a list of table numbers in the reservation book before taking to seat us at a table at the side of the room where I had a fetching view of the door to the toilets and some storage shelves. We will learn from this and make sure to book next time, because, contrary to popular opinion, Diverxo will put Baby in a corner.