Morning Out

Today when we went to Cesare's, he was working on a violin.  He had it inside a frame like a mold sort of thing, and he had glued the outside edges together and he was making the decorative edge by adding strips of wood around the top and using split rings as clamps.  He glued the strips in with special glue and then once it was all clamped, he got a toothbrush from an old can of water (?) and brushed off all the excess glue.

I then tried to ask him for a rock stop (the "topo") but he didn't understand what I meant, and he asked if I wanted a cello.  He showed me a very ornate cello.  I said it was beautiful, but I tried to describe it with the little Italian I know.  After about 15 minutes of trying, I got him to understand that it was something to do with the end pin, but he still didn't quite understand what I wanted.  When he said that he was sorry for not understanding, I told him I was sorry for not speaking Italian very well.He asked if we spoke Dutch,(in Dutch,) so we told him we spoke English,(in Italian,) and discovered that he did not.

I then told him that we're here for a year, and he said we could come back.  I thanked him and we left.

We then went to the toy store because I was hoping to find a nunchuk but when we didn't find it (the toy store did seem to be more of a tourist shop, after all), we went to the tabachi, where Ashley bought stamps.  She blanked out on the word for stamps (francobolli), and she asked me; I, too, blanked out on the word at that point, but just then she remembered it and finished asking!

Love,

Jeremy

Bribing bankers...

Last time we were in Todi, we took a course in chocolate making at Perugina.  As a result of that course, we had (surprise, surprise) a fun time in the factory store.  We purchased some "extra-fondente" (super dark) chocolate for our banker, Signor Ivano, because I had talked chocolate with him when he made up the money order for the class.

When I went to the bank yesterday to open a new account, he phlegmatically pronounced that we'd have to return next week because everyone was on vacation.  I turned native:  I waved my arms in the air, told him that I needed money & couldn't get it until the account was opened, etc.

It did (part of) the trick.  At that, he asked me for my surname again, looked it up on a printout that looked like a newspaper, went to the wall of binders behind him, and found (I'm serious) all the paperwork from the previous account.

As he reopened the old account, he started talking chocolate -- asked if we were going to go back to Perugina, reminded me that he likes extra-fondente, that the other stuff is too sweet, etc.  I pointed out my dear husband and provided that link between them.  He became more and more chatty as the afternoon wore on (yes, banking does take forever, but at least it wasn't three days this time!), and we parted friends.

I did ask him for an envelope in which to carry all the confidential banking papers.  He gave me a clear sheet protector!

Kisses to you,

Alexandra

Another day, another way to enjoy oneself!

Jeremy & Ashley have just gone off, Jeremy muttering under his breath, "Puo farmi un topo per il mio violoncello?  Quanto costerebbe?  Devo pagarle ora o piu tardi?"  They're going to ask Cesare if he'll make a little cello holder (it's called a "mouse" in Italian) to be used to hold the pin when someone's playing.  Hard to understand if you don't play yourself, but it makes sense, I promise.  They're also going to the tabachi to get stamps and recharge my phone.

Michael has sauntered off with his backpack to obtain provisions for the family.  He was in serious hunter-gatherer mode as he left.  He & Jeremy got up at a reasonable hour.  The rest of us were still in jetlag mode and spent the cool part of the morning snoozing.  So we're now just getting up, etc.

This afternoon, the kids are going to hang out with their new friends.  I'm going to show my cultural awareness by snoozing indoors during the heat of the day.  I may watch some of the Olympics.  Michael will probably play with the washing machine; it was being a bit temperamental yesterday during the test run.

And this evening?  Well, we don't know yet.  I need to get in touch with our friend Elizabeth to let her know we're here.  For some reason, I always have trouble getting her from my phone, even though the phone number is correct...

Next week there is a guitar concert we're going to try to attend.  There was one last night, and I mentioned it to Ashley.  She was all gung ho to go, and I said it started at 7:30 (thinking that it was about 6:30 at the time).  Having looked at her watch, Ashley said, "Um, Mummy?  It's 8:15..."  Whoops!

Speaking of last night, Michael & I enjoyed the sensation of "date night" without any of the preparation or organization:  when the kids were doing the dishes from dinner, he & I ambled downstairs and into the cafetteria to see the pasticceria lady and enjoy a nightcap.  A little adult time -- aaah!

Love,

Alexandra

A Room With a View

Every town has a heart: the marketplace, the square, the park.  However, Todi is so special that it has two hearts; while one is fairly predictable—the 13^th century piazza in front of the duomo, very popular with tourists—the other is a little less so.  It is the modestly sized Piazza Jacopone, through which everyone passes on the way to the main piazza.  It is a convenient location, sandwiched between the two biggest tourist attractions in Todi, the piazza and San Fortunato, as well as being a shortcut through town.  It is also home to Dige’s Pizza—known to our readers as Massimo’s—the best pizzeria in all of Italy.  Dige’s is the teens’ hangout.  Dige’s is the locals’ coffee shop.  Dige’s is the tourists’ lunch stop.  In short, everyone goes to Piazza Jacopone.  It is the people-watcher’s land of plenty.

Imagine, therefore, Ashley’s and my delight upon discovering that our bedroom overlooks not only San Fortunato, but also Dige’s Pizza!  While other members of our family are thrilled to have windows to the private courtyard, Ashley and I can (and do) stand for hours watching people passing by.  As I type, in fact, Ashley is hanging out of the window on the pretext of getting some fresh air—but I know that she’s keeping a close eye on the teens who have congregated below.

Our window is absolutely ideal for this type of entertainment.  We are several stories up, so almost no one looks towards us, and it is impossible to hear what we say.  We also have a very clear line of sight up and down the main street, to San Fortunato, of Dige’s Pizza, and on Piazza Jacopone.  In fact, the only thing lacking is window seats—but we would probably never leave!

And, let me tell you, we have learned a good bit from this habit.  We have picked up fashion ideas.  We have discovered that the vast majority of tourists here are other Italians.  We have found that the boys here are every bit as attractive as people say.  We have learned that teenagers gather to smoke and hang out here at night—and that only the elderly appear before 9:30 the next morning.  I even experienced the absolute silence that settles over the town at three a.m. when I was suffering from jet lag.

And that says nothing of the laughs we have had.  There is one boy (he’s right outside the window at the moment) with whom we had a rather peculiar encounter last time—that’s another story in itself—who has cut the hair on one side of his hair short but left the rest shoulder-length.  He and his buddies are rather amusing to watch because they just goof off and generally act like hoodlums.  Then this morning, long before our lopsided friend emerged, I observed one elderly and portly man carefully measuring another equally elderly and portly man’s stomach.  However, this was nothing compared to our favorite sighting of all.

Yesterday in the mid-afternoon, during the course of usual tourists and such, we spotted a fifty-or-so man who was clearly in the height of fashion—Italian fashion, no less.  However, this was one of those irritating fashions that famous designers endorse but don’t actually expect anyone to wear.  He sported a white, long-sleeved blouse with a V-neck nearly to his belly button (I don’t exaggerate) with a gold wristwatch to complement it.  In addition, he wore bright green skinny jeans.  We stared, open-mouthed, as he strode confidently down the street until his green pants and bald spot disappeared around the bend.

And, though I would love to write more, I have to go.  Ashley tells me that another cute guy has appeared, and this I really can’t miss.

Eleanor

PS You asked for pictures, so here they are.  Sorry, none of the green pants guy, although we've seen him a few more times (in the same jeans).

Piazza Jacopone and Dige's Pizza

The steps of San Fortunato and the main street into town

Where the teens congregate after dusk

Everyone else's view.  Yes, that car did drive through that doorway.

The Pool

Today we took an hour-long trek down to the pool. It was very hot and the only one who thought about bringing water was James. So we had ONE bottle of water among the seven of us. It was a lot of work.
When we got there, we went in and got in the pool. The life guard saw us and asked us if we had swim caps. We didn't so we had to buy some. Then we got back in; when the water slides opened Jeremy, James and Ashley went down. Ashley met six people, whom we are going to meet tomorrow. We still have jet-lag (or I do anyway).Arrivederci,        Fiorella (Florence)

Our appartamento is a step back in time

You enter via a large wooden (arched of course) doorway, which has doors that are 3 inches thick in them.  Based on the plain wall of the outside, you expect nothing much.  But as in Spain or (I think) Portugal, you get so much more:  an open courtyard with pretty stone work and lots of arches.  Have I ever said I like arches?  Michael teases me by saying that I'd like an arch in every doorway of the house.   He's not far off.

You have to understand our luggage situation.  Each of our seven bags weighed exactly 50 pounds.  Then we had 6 pieces of hand luggage that easily weighed 30 pounds each.  And our backpacks probably weighed in at 25.  Of course, you can't forget Eleanor's keyboard, which is a full-size 88-key piece of electronics in appropriate packaging.  It's a biiiig box.

Our two drivers plus the real estate agent looked at the pile of luggage and chorused, "Mamma mia" (I kid you not).  And then they shrugged their shoulders, picked up some bags, and started schlepping.  Good-naturedly, no less.  We're on the third floor (which is really rather odd to describe, because they seem to have half floors here somehow), and it doesn't seem too awful.  Maybe because I'd psyched myself up for something much, much worse.  

Our new digs have tons of space done up in a 60's rustic Italian style.  The bedroom doors offer privacy via an amber, wavy pane of glass.  The girls are living in the lap of luxury: we gave them the master bedroom since there are three of them, and it really is large.  The other two rooms are a normal size.

Surprise number one:  well, signor Oreste (who looks like a benign goblin, according to Jeremy) thought that we were providing our own linens.  Lots of backing and forthing, but Michael & I decided to just handle it.  We know where the store is, and that way they don't complain if we want a bigger towel or whatever.

Surprise number two?  Let's just say that -- now that we've made the trek down to the shops and are hot, sweaty, and decidedly ready for (ahem) freshening, the water heater doesn't appear to be working all that well.  Michael's investigating the innards as I write.  

This afternoon we shopped & checked in with some of our favorite people.  But that's for another post!

Love,

Alexandra

Driving on the Autostrada

...reminds me of the Tour de France.  How, you ask?  Well, you know how the riders all draft each other inches away and one false move would be really, really bad?  I think you might get the picture.  Also, there tends to be this feeling that, if you can make the autostrada four lanes wide instead of the three that are painted, so much the better!  I saw more lane line straddling than actual driving within the lines.

On the bright side, the drivers generally seem to take others' vagaries in stride, and somehow manage to commit hair-raising acts of 4-wheeled terrorism without too much damage.

And we made it!  I talked to Leonardo about getting my car in the next few days.  Trouble is, we have to get some money over here before that can happen...

Love,

Alexandra