Thought I’d throw you all off by NOT opening with a grainy landscape photo. Sometimes I take pictures of other things! This is a ska band we saw last night at the 20th anniversary party of the local brewery. It’s probably about as peak local as I’ll ever feel I think – we found out about the event when we got to talking with a couple of brewery staff at the food festival in town a couple of weeks ago. I was supposed to be saving money but all the sunshine and macaron samples went to my head, and I ended up buying myself some fancy local beer. They gave me a leaflet for the party and said we should go, famous ska band etc etc. We had been a bit daunted by getting there and back in one piece – it’s in another town, and usually nights out here either have to be within walking distance or with a 7pm curfew to get the last bus home. This time we decided just to risk it and caught the last bus out of town, and somehow lived to tell the tale in spite of such RECKLESSNESS. I think we must give off an air of being totally inept actually. The bus driver who took us out didn’t charge us, dropped us directly opposite the brewery, and collared some teenager off the bus to show us where to cross the road to get to it. If this is what being a grandma feels like, I’M READY. Cue fabulous evening chatting to lovely locals, having a little dance, and drinking wonderful beer. Later on, we got to talking to a friend of a colleague who ended up giving us a lift back home, thus saving us from sleeping on the brewery floor. We even bumped into a colleague and organised a plan to go to some other festival next weekend – she couldn’t really translate what a “sagra” is in English, but apparently it involves “polenta…and mushrooms….and stuff.” I’m all over it.
I’ve also been flexing my tour guide muscles a little bit. I’ve had a couple of visitors in the last few weeks, both backpacking friends from NZ. It’s been SO GOOD catching up with them, plus have been able to practise showing people around without getting myself lost. Predictably, my two new favourite things to do with people are both alcohol based. The flash one is to go to Conegliano, aka prosecco-mecca, and stroll up the hill to the castle for an achingly beautiful view all the way to the Dolomites.
The local one is to go to the cantina in town to blag a spot of wine tasting and ogle at the petrol-pump wine stations. They price it around 1.20 per litre, you pick which one you want, grab a big old bottle and they fill it up for you. Here’s my friend Chris not quite able to believe what’s happening.
Aside from swanning around, though, life does go on with work etc. I imagine my mum is a bit worried about how much it seems like I’ve given up on having a job in favour of being an alcoholic, but I swear it’s not what it looks like. I’ve got a full teaching timetable now, with students ranging from 2 year olds at nursery (!!!!!!) up to a fab guy called Sandro who has intense questions about advanced grammar and a passion for French philosophy. Haven’t quite worked out yet whether I find it easier to shout “MASH, banana, MASH MASH banana” at a roomful of giggling Italian parents and toddlers first thing on Saturday, or to come up with smart comments about the death of the author theory last thing on Friday night. It’s no wonder I fancy a drink sometimes.