Let there be light

12th December 2021

Whilst Monday continued the recent trend by being unremarkable, things began hotting up on Tuesday, starting in the morning when we threw caution to the wind and went in tandem for haircuts with Rocco, now he was officially safe to be released back into the community. This was followed by our usual tour round Conad, where it looked like all hands on deck as the whole family were busy stocking the shelves ready for Christmas.

I appreciate that this might sound a little strange to English ears, who will have been faced with a bewildering array of seasonal must-haves since September, but here, at least in the provinces, there is still a degree of restraint, leaving things to do with Christmas till, well Christmas. Mind you, I was becoming a little anxious as we had decided that, as last year and as at Easter, we would again source our Christmas Day lunch from the supermarket (cooked on the premises, as you probably remember, by Gabriella and her team) but had not seen any sign of any menus. Fortunately, when we asked the nice lady at the checkout she handed us a flyer, much to our relief.

In the afternoon we took another step towards an abundance of seasonal delight when Stephen came home from the factory with his box of new lights for the terrazzo railings – all fifty metres of them. And thereby hangs the problem, for whilst the first twenty-five metre coil unwound obligingly, the second proved somewhat more intransigent. A combination of it being all knotted up (allegedly), his hands becoming increasingly icy and darkness descending meant it was forty minutes before they were ready to bedeck the railings. It may have taken him more time than he had anticipated, but the rest of the family is very glad he made that sacrifice to give us a touch of winter wonderland.

And that was just the start of a very busy few days for Stephen, as after an early dinner, he met Mirco at the top of the road to go to Ancona airport and pick up his and the factory’s usual customer from England, who to thwart any attempt at industrial espionage, we will simply call J. Fortunately, his plane was only about ten or fifteen minutes late, so Stephen was home again, having deposited him at Pomo d’Oro, and in bed before 11.

The next day got off to a bit of chilly start, and for the first time this year we woke to the heating having kicked in (the residual heat from the fire not keeping the overnight temperature above 17º) and, for the first time this winter, thick ice on the car – although it wasn’t quite cold enough to freeze the dogs’ water bowl on the terrazzo – yet. It should have been a day for relaxing, being a holiday in Italy as the 8th is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception (the third most important day of the year, Marco later told me, behind Easter at number 1 and Christmas at 2), but of course the Carellis, and therefore Stephen, had to host J.

What they could do was, unsurprisingly, limited and based around the factory, what with everywhere being closed. This was one reason why I was able to join them for lunch, where I got away with just two helpings of linguine and ragu before tackling the two meat courses with a spot of roasted fennel thrown in for appearances sake. It was just as well we had plenty to eat as the paucity of businesses to visit meant Stephen was home just after 6, which we hadn’t bargained for, and we had to make my meal for one stretch to two with the help of some dry bread (cue violins).

Nor were we the only ones who had a bit of a problem with dinner. J had decided that he would take a pizza back to his hotel room for his meal and so they (J, Stephen and Mirco, the driver) stopped off at our local pizzeria on their way. He ordered one, and then decided he would make it two, but when it came time to pay his brandished debit card was met with a polite shake of the head. We still live in an old-fashioned kind of place where cash is common, but unfortunately J with his sophisticated British ways didn’t actually have any on him. It looked for a moment like the pizze would be history, but between Stephen and Mirco they managed to scrape together just enough to cover the bill – Stephen being short on the readies because he didn’t have his banker with him and Mirco because his parents obviously think he can’t be trusted with the responsibility.

I saw very little of Stephen during the following two days. On Thursday he left the house at 8 am, to meet up with Mirco and his taxi service, and returned fourteen hours later at 10 pm, after dinner at Mirco’s cousin’s pizzeria. It could, though, have been an hour less if they had known that when J said he’d be up and ready for them by 8 he really meant a little after 9 when he had eventually got his act together. Being wise to this, the dynamic due left it till the later time on Friday before setting out, which meant that Stephen was only away from home for twelve hours – including dinner at the Carellis this time, when they ate the food Mrs C had prepared for lunch because no one told her the men were eating out.

Saturday morning rolled around, and Stephen was again off at 8.00 am to pick up Joshua, but this time he was up and ready as he needed to be taken to the airport for his return flight. The journey up the autostrada, though, was a bit interesting as sometime in the night it had decided to rain in a diluvial fashion and continue to do so for most of the day.

Fortunately for us, the channels that were dug out the last time they did some work on the road guided the rainwater away from the road which escaped relatively unscathed. Not so Bella, Harry and me, as we all got somewhat soaked on our curtailed walks. They, of course, could see little sense in venturing out in a downpour, though we of course didn’t want them to spend the day keeping their legs crossed – or, more importantly, not keeping them crossed.

The weather did have some knock-on effects, though, as we realised when Stephen looked out of the back window and saw the river flooding over its bankings and the bridge to San Rustico. It was no surprise when we saw a notice on Facebook from the Comune saying that the road was close. Nor was it a surprise when there was another notice saying that the town’s Christmas market, resurrected after a hiatus, had also been cancelled for the Saturday.

The good news was that after a bit of a cloudy start today, by lunchtime the sun was out again, and whilst it was too much of a job for it to dry out the soaked ground, it did allow the second day of the mercatini to go ahead. We waited till the evening to go, thinking that just after dusk was the best time to capture the atmosphere. And we were right, for with the lights from the stalls in the main square, and the Christmas lights on the tower and garlanded across the street, and a buzz from the people wandering and talking, and children enjoying rides in a pony and trap it was a lovely way indeed to finish off the week.