Noises off

2nd April 2023

I had a bit more free time this past week than I expected, with work making demands on a couple of my students who had to cancel at the last minute due to being a bit snowed under and another who was taking a short break because for religious observance. Stephen must also have found some free moments on Monday, which he used to scour the Internet checking for overnight accommodation for the first Saturday of our trip to Puglia. I have to say that the converted grain silo, to which he sent me a link, was maybe not what I had in mind but I suppose it had some sort of midwestern American redneck chic.

After a couple of normal days, we were starting to think on Thursday that, after all this time at LCDDB, there was something uncanny about it. The first indication was when we were woken up at midnight (and we know what that time signifies) due to the radio in the kitchen switching on. Stephen manfully braved the darkness to switch it off and we went back to sleep, only for us to be woken again at some indeterminate time by the noise of something metallic falling down, again in the kitchen area. This time when Stephen went to investigate (my hero) it took a little longer as, not wanting to put on the lights and disturb the dogs and have to deal with them as well, it was not obvious what had caused the noise. He did, though, eventually find that it was the clock above the alcove to the bedrooms and bathroom that had fallen off the wall.

Our (by which I mean my) simmering fancy that a resident poltergeist had decided to make its presence felt was given a further fillip on Friday night when we were again awoken, this time by a banging on the bedroom window. It wasn’t long, however, till a much more mundane explanation presented itself in the strong wind that had sprung up and which was knocking the open shutter against the terrazzo railing, the two being in close proximity. And you will be even more disappointed to learn that Thursday night’s inexplicable happenings were also quickly explained in that the alarm, which defaults to 00.00, had been accidentally set on the radio and the two adhesive strips that affixed the clock to the wall were no longer adhering. The alarm has been deactivated and timely use of a drill and a screw by Stephen means the clock is now hung more securely… or so we hope.

And what about the weekend?

That has been packed, if not with action at least with activity. Given the fine weather, and ahead of forecast rain for next week, Stephen took the opportunity yesterday afternoon to cut the grass in front of the house and along the banking opposite. Not everyone was totally happy with this, however, as he managed to disturb a somewhat large black snake that went scurrying from the undergrowth and down the drive to find a quieter place to hang out. As we know, these are harmless – allegedly, unless you happen to be a gecko – and have thus far proved more frightened of us than we are – allegedly – of them.

In the evening we took a trip to Civitanova, to buy a couple of birthday cards and take a stroll along the main drag, checking out the shops, including quite a few new, chic ones that had sprung up since our last visit. These didn’t include the stylish dress shop we passed, which is something of a veteran as these things go, that had a new way of attracting attention to its display by having an exceptionally well behaved big black dog sitting in the window. There was no sign attached so we can’t say how much it was, unfortunately.

Of course, a spot of shopping wasn’t the main reason we hit the big city, nor was it the glass of rosé wine we took as an aperitivo at Thirteen. It was a return after far too long to Mandi, the restaurant which once featured highly in these pages. Having got out of the habit thanks to you know what, we thought it was time we reinstated it, and what a good idea it was. The food, if anything, was even better, and the nice lady in charge of front of house welcomed Stephen like a long lost friend – which indeed he was. I was obviously there to make up the numbers… oh, and pay. Never let it be said that I don’t know my place.

Today saw two important developments in our holiday plans. The first was this morning when we went to investigate a new (to us) kennels for Bella and Harry, as recommended by one of my students (not that he has a dog, but he knows a woman who does). This one is much more convenient than the last one we used, being only twenty-odd minutes away near Falerone, and was an impressive setup. We were already sold on it, but the deal was sealed when the owner, Sandro, said that they are always open and don’t take holidays because it isn’t a job, it’s a passion.

The other development was booking our Saturday overnight stop on the way to Polignano. Having vaguely consulted a map and executing a quick Google search, we thought that San Severo, near Foggia, looked a reasonable spot, and when Booking.com came up with a very nice (and highly rated) agriturismo, with parking, not far from the autostrada, it seemed like fate had decreed it should be. So with accommodation for us and Bella and Harry sorted, it would look like the countdown has truly begun.