Friday we were in the little spa town of Fiuggi where I bought a postcard to send to Amelia my great niece as I'd missed her seventh birthday. We had time to kill so wandered around and slightly out of the town where I came upon the post office and decided to get stamps. I intend to send Esme a card later for her birthday.
I fathomed out which counter I needed, no 4 for stamps and general posting, the others for banking, bill paying etc and took a number for no 4. There were a couple of people before me so I decided to start writing the card, post boxes being few and far between in these parts.
When it was my turn I asked in my best Italian for two stamps for postcards to England, tap tap on the computer for a while till she told me it was a euro each. Give me the card said the lady and I handed it over, half written and with no address. She looked at it and I said I hadn't finished, finish it she said rather abruptly tossing it back with a pen. So I stood at the counter hastily penning a few words and finding the addresss from my diary, not daring to look round at the queue building behind me. I handed the card over, much more tapping of the computer, then the lady said give me the other card. I explained I hadn't bought it yet. I wanted the stamp to take away. I realised at this stage that she intended to frank my completed card rather than give me two stamps. She looked at me then shouted down the line of counters, she wants a stamp to take away as if I was some kind of freak Eventually an assistant from another till went into the back room and came out with the requested stamp, with a lengthy code written on it in pencil that had to be tapped into the computer. At this stage I was reminded of the days when you took your building society pass book to pay in a couple of pounds and all the tapping that involved.
Finally I got my single stamp, my completed card was thrown on top of the printer and the lady looked down her nose at it, maybe she was pretending to read it. I never saw it franked, I have no idea if it will ever arrive, I wish they had stamp vending machines in Italy.
Born in and now returned to Yorkshire from Scotland, spending summers in Italy. I knit socks but prefer to wear flip flops
Monday 24 October 2016
Monday 17 October 2016
Close encounters
My turn to get up first this morning, open the shutters to the sunshine, feed the cats and make a pot of tea. I could hear dog activity in the olives below our house, the hunting dogs wear bells so they owners know where they are as do we and the cats. The noise got nearer, the cats came indoors and I wandered onto the terrace still wearing my dressing gown to see a man with a gun coming up the steps into our garden. I shouted good morning, I think he was as surprised as me, returned my greeting, apologised and turned back into our orchard. I asked if there was some animal in the orchard but he didn't answer. The dog activity, barking and howling, continued in the orchard for a while, then receded down the slope until there were three shots. I have no idea what the man was hunting but after that he seemed to disappear and silence returned.
We are in a region designated for hunting wild boar and last Sunday there was much shooting on the mountain above us. We took a late afternoon walk to the village and were passed by two pick up trucks, one of which had a dead boar in the back, a massive creature with large tusks. The hunters drove through the village blowing their horns as they do at a wedding, obviously wanting everyone to see their success. My neighbour told me later the creature had been killed just above us.
I hope this mornings hunter wasn't on the trail of a boar, we have had evidence in the past of them rooting in the orchard and on our lawn, I don't want to meet one face to face. Rumour has it they are becoming more confident around property in the way of urban foxes and more aggressive too. Life in Italy, it certainly has its wild side.
We are in a region designated for hunting wild boar and last Sunday there was much shooting on the mountain above us. We took a late afternoon walk to the village and were passed by two pick up trucks, one of which had a dead boar in the back, a massive creature with large tusks. The hunters drove through the village blowing their horns as they do at a wedding, obviously wanting everyone to see their success. My neighbour told me later the creature had been killed just above us.
I hope this mornings hunter wasn't on the trail of a boar, we have had evidence in the past of them rooting in the orchard and on our lawn, I don't want to meet one face to face. Rumour has it they are becoming more confident around property in the way of urban foxes and more aggressive too. Life in Italy, it certainly has its wild side.
Thursday 6 October 2016
About time
It was confirmed that I am the worlds worst blogger when I had an email from Canada asking if I was OK as I hadn't posted since the earthquake. I haven't posted as I'm not sure you want to hear more about the lovely weather, delicious food and local wines straight from the vineyard, one of which has been crossed off the list since their large German shepherd dog attacked our car and scratched it down to the metal. A pity as their wine is good.
In fact we've had many car problems and at one stage I didn't leave the property or see anyone except Mr FF for two weeks. At first I enjoyed the solitude, all our neighbours had moved back to Rome but after a week I started to go a bit stir crazy. Two days after our car was repaired in a nearby village taking several days and costing us 250 euros the exhaust pipe came loose fortunately in our own village so we limped to the little garage here with Mr FF driving slowly which I crawled alongside holding up the dragging pipe with a golf umbrella. The mechanic confirmed the problem was caused by the previous work and fixed it temporarily, ordered a new clamp, installed that and charge us 20 euros. We would have used the village garage in the first place but he was busy and recommended the other place. Big mistake.
We've done all the usual things, enjoyed many festas in various little squares, made new friends, visited and been visited by old friends, been for a weekend at the sea and loved having our little kitties around, two are asleep beside me on a chair the other tightly curled up in the waste paper basket.
Today we are off to the airport as friends are coming out from Yorkshire for a few days, unfortunately the forecast isn't great and it's been raining, it will be such a pity if for the first time in three months we can't have breakfast outside.
We are eating much of our own fruit and veg and watching the olives start to turn black. Another year where everyone is complaining of a poor harvest, fingers crossed we have enough for a mill run but I rather doubt it which means we shall need to find someone with an equally small crop we can
double up with.
So there you are, things are much as they always are in Italy which suits me just fine but doesn't lead to much interesting blogging but I will try harder to keep you up to date in future.
In fact we've had many car problems and at one stage I didn't leave the property or see anyone except Mr FF for two weeks. At first I enjoyed the solitude, all our neighbours had moved back to Rome but after a week I started to go a bit stir crazy. Two days after our car was repaired in a nearby village taking several days and costing us 250 euros the exhaust pipe came loose fortunately in our own village so we limped to the little garage here with Mr FF driving slowly which I crawled alongside holding up the dragging pipe with a golf umbrella. The mechanic confirmed the problem was caused by the previous work and fixed it temporarily, ordered a new clamp, installed that and charge us 20 euros. We would have used the village garage in the first place but he was busy and recommended the other place. Big mistake.
We've done all the usual things, enjoyed many festas in various little squares, made new friends, visited and been visited by old friends, been for a weekend at the sea and loved having our little kitties around, two are asleep beside me on a chair the other tightly curled up in the waste paper basket.
Today we are off to the airport as friends are coming out from Yorkshire for a few days, unfortunately the forecast isn't great and it's been raining, it will be such a pity if for the first time in three months we can't have breakfast outside.
We are eating much of our own fruit and veg and watching the olives start to turn black. Another year where everyone is complaining of a poor harvest, fingers crossed we have enough for a mill run but I rather doubt it which means we shall need to find someone with an equally small crop we can
double up with.
So there you are, things are much as they always are in Italy which suits me just fine but doesn't lead to much interesting blogging but I will try harder to keep you up to date in future.
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