The mostly low points of our journey

We arrived back in the penthouse early Thursday evening.  Whilst it was nice to have 2 nights in the same place twice and reduced the pressure of moving on each morning it was still a long way.  Leaving on Saturday worked well, once we’d turned round at Mario’s and gone back for the adaptor MrFF had forgotten.  I went through the list of phone passport keys iPad before he started the car, affirmative.  Then I asked if he’d got the adaptor for charging, I hope so was the reply.  I explained hope wasn’t enough, I needed to know so he checked at Mario’s then drove a bit further to turn round and go back.

After a couple of hours we stopped at the services for the toilet and I managed to lock myself in.  The lock was a little button in the middle of the round handle.  It wouldn’t turn and the bar on top of the handle did nothing.  I’d reached the stage of getting my phone out to call MrFF, who later admitted he’d left his phone in the car, when a voice asked in Italian if I wanted the door open.  Yes I said I cannot do it.  Within minutes the cleaning lady had got a key and released me.  After that I didn’t lock the toilet doors unless it was a simple bar.

Our 2 nights in Bergamo were not as relaxing as I’d hoped, the weather was good with sun but the town was very quiet. Leaving early morning to driving round Milan was as ever manic, made worse as MrFf hadn’t decided which route to take to get us past the Alps.  He wanted to try the Simplon train tunnel but since the service was only every 90 minutes it was time critical but unpredictable with all the traffic.  but it worked out well.  We drove our car onto an open platform and the train took us into a narrow and very dark tunnel.  We rattled along for 20 minutes, me wondering about what we’d do in an emergency and hoping the driver had a torch.  I was glad when that was over.

We then had to head for Bern, took a wrong road, turned round and seemed to start climbing a mountain pass, at least with a decent if steep road.  I was a bit concerned as I’d seen signs that some passes were closed so I looked on line.  It said the road we were on involved train travel but when I told MrFF he dismissed it saying we’d already done the train bit.   I explained I’d googled the route from after the train tunnel to Bern.  He insisted there was no train until the sign for Bern took us into the station, fortunately the next tunnel train was waiting as there was no more road.  So off we went again into the darkness except this tunnel had two tracks and occasionally we were buffeted about and illuminated by a high speed train wizzing past in the opposite direction.  

Our night in the Alsace was fine and next morning we drive to Colmar stopping at a nice village on the outskirts where we joined a well attended Remembrance Day service.  There was a band, members of the forces, police and fire service plus local dignitaries who laid wreaths at the war memorial, each accompanied by two small children which I thought was very appropriate.

We spent some time in Colmar which is a beautiful town but also quiet, Armistice Day is a holiday in France and well respected.

Our last 2 nights were in the champagne region, we love the little town of Vitry le Francois, the restaurant we always use, the boulangerie and the big supermarket.  On our final day before the ferry we went again to Lac du Der where we’d walked in the summer.  En route we spotted hundreds of the migrating grey cranes that stop off at the lake on their route south.

We visited a little village museum they explained the lake was created to ease flooding in Paris.  The local river Marne feeds into the Seine and it was decided to create a lake to store the winter flood water and release it in summer.  3 villages were destroyed but some buildings, including a church, were saved and moved to the museum which also records the agricultural activities lost. It reminded me of my childhood growing up on a farm, my brother has a similar butter churn that my grandmother and my mother both used, it’s now in the garden of his retirement bungalow. 

We spent a couple of hours walking round. It was fascinating, especially hearing recorded interviews with people who had to abandon their homes and livelihoods  but the construction solved a big problem, created a beautiful recreational attraction, fishing, boating, cycling, walking, bird watching with lots of holiday accommodation, that all provide jobs.  

We’d never see the lake after the water has been released, the marina was unusable and the boats elsewhere. I think that was the best day of our whole trip.

Next morning we were up and away just after 7 hoping to catch an earlier ferry than we’d booked.  At check in the girl said we could try for the earlier one but it would depend on border control. Maybe she knew who was operating that morning.  After we left Dover on the way out I noticed our passports had not been stamped. When I checked online it said they might not be stamped but our whereabouts could be checked by our passport details.  The man examined every page of our passports then asked us where we live.  Then he asked if we had dual nationality, at which stage I realised he was looking for the stamps and explained we didn’t get them at Dover. He got a bit shouty then, said since Brexit we had to get a stamp, it was our responsibility to get a stamp and we could be in for an expensive fine.  We showed him our outward journey booking and MrFF started to explain it wasn’t our fault till I told him to shut up and not argue.  The man wrote in our passports, I thought it was the fine, but then he stamped and handed them back saying sternly even if a French policeman says you don’t need a stamp you are to say it’s our right to have a stamp and we want one, I said we’d definitely do that.  At the border control it’s always pressure to get through without holding up others, especially for us when we rush for an earlier ferry, I should have checked at Dover.  So once again we were last onto the ferry parked at the back among the the big lorries but on our way over the channel.

The drive from Dover to Ilkley wasn’t bad, we are all unpacked but still tired.  Amazingly my balcony pots are still in flower. Usually I come back in November to bare earth and brown slime.   MrFF is walking tomorrow, I am at the dentist on Monday, it’s grey and wet but it’s home albeit without any oil.

Leaving

Last weekend several of our Danish friends left for winter, this coming weekend friends just down the road also leave and so do we.  However we were taking a relatively leisurely drive back to Yorkshire with 5 overnight stops, the first 2 in Bergamo, 1 in the Alsace and 2 in the champagne region. I am so looking forward to not having the usual confusing 5 different beds in 5 nights scenario, this time it will be 5 in 7 though I still expect to wake up wondering where I am for several days.

The weather continues to be beautiful, clear blue skies and warmth, so MrFF has been repairing the roof for winter and pruning the olives.  You might just spot him beside the chimney but please don’t tell health and safety that he went up to the higher level too. 

We’ve got the cats used to the automatic feeder which works just fine delivering a good portion of biscuits twice a day.  It should only need refilling every two weeks, getting Mario to do that is a greater challenge.  

My garden has really done well this year thanks to more rain and less heat.  The nerines have been a delight and I noticed some paper white narcissi, they don’t generally come again after being forced at Christmas, are in bloom.  Strange but lovely as I usually I not here to see the spring bulbs.

It’s not all been home maintenance. Last week MrFF went with a friend to the Abruzzo where they climbed a 7000 feet mountain. I stayed home as I don’t have my walking gear here and the ascent involved some rock scrambling which I do not enjoy. I had such a relaxing day completely alone with the cats, all loving the solitude and isolation.  

So let the packing begin.

Autumn days

 

MrFF has been installing a new garden gate.  It arrived at the end of last week, 7 days after it was due for delivery. First day they were unable to deliver, which was odd as we were home and saw nothing of a courier.  Then 6 days of it being out for delivery at the local parcel shop but being returned to the depot each evening.  Complaints to the courier and the supplier eventually got a result.

The gate is made of Corten or weathering steel which rusts to a pleasing finish and doesn’t require any maintenance. It’s the same material as used for the Angel of the North, another project on a slightly larger scale MrFF was involved with many years ago.

The new gate is intended to keep animals away from my terrace pots and plants in the border.  It won’t impede the cats as they use a different route to the lower garden that involves climbing and jumping, a route all our cats have preferred for some reason.

On the first photo you can catch a glimpse of blue skies, we’ve just had two chilly days of low cloud and rain so it’s nice to have the warmth back.  Giovanni came out at the weekend but despairing of the rain and lack of any kind of olive harvest he went straight back to Rome next day.  Our thoughts too are turning to home but we’ve a few jobs left, not least making provision for the three amici.

Party food rant

Today I had an email from Marks and Spencer announcing that their party food has arrived in store,  just in time for the festive season.  

Kick off a festive party with these Collection Mini Turkey Feast Toasties. Enjoy pulled British turkey, sage and onion stuffing along with ham hock, nestled with Emmental and Cheddar cheeses, cranberry chutney and béchamel sauce on toasted malted bread. Beautifully finished with turkey gravy.

Excuse me it’s October besides which those single mouthfuls of complicated nonsense can hardly be described as food. Yes we all know I am not in favour of Christmas being mentioned until at least mid December but this is ridiculous.  

I detest the while concept of party food.   I’ve been to events where the hosts have offered a bought in buffet, in one case it wasn’t even decanted from the plastic trays it arrived in. I’ve also been to (better) parties where I’ve been served proper homemade food, like a big dish of chilli con cane accompanied by fresh crusty bread.  If you are going to hold an event for friends and/or family surely it’s better to prepare them something wholesome rather than order in plastic packs of questionable content that they could easily buy themselves.  

I love eating at friends, I appreciate the effort they make to prepare a meal for us and love sharing their food.  I certainly don't want anything complicated or difficult, it’s about being together round the dining table chatting and relaxing.  As you can imagine party food won’t figure on my seasonal shopping list, in fact I don’t have a seasonal shopping list, ever. 

I bet you are looking forward to my festive table decor rant, it won’t be long, it’s that time of year.

No oil

No I haven’t joined some environmental activist group I am talking about our olive crop. It’s been a dreadful year for the trees, a lot of rain and hail storms that have damaged the fruits and an invasion of the fly that lays its eggs in the developing olives, the larva then feed on the fruit. We generally avoid this infestation as our trees grow at a higher level than those in the valley, last year our olives were completely clean, this year we have the worms.

The fruits are soft and mushy, everyday more fall to the ground.  We have a few trees that are decent but nothing like enough for a mill run and sorting the crates to take out the bad ones would take an age.  

On our walks we’ve seen the situation is the same all around us, in fact many trees are much worse than ours. Usually the harvest is such a happy time, I know Giovanni loves it and he’s still hoping to get some oil, but many people have decided not to pick.   It’s not a disaster for us but Italian families rely on a good harvest, a household will easily use a litre of oil a week.  Giovanni usually produces hundreds of litres, I know his daughter takes 80 and his son 50 in return for their help at harvest time.  

We had such a good result last year, almost 50 litres of oil, so we were able to give a lot away and sell some too.  People had already been asking before we left if they could buy more, it’s not just the Italians who will be disappointed. 

La Pausa

Giovanni arrived at the weekend but stayed only one night before returning to Rome for the next two weeks.  I think we can assume the 3 cats have taken up residence here, which was much easier for them than the performance we had during lockdown to obtain our temporary residence. For them it was a case of arrive, eat, play, sleep, repeat.

They are delightful, becoming braver and stronger every day.  They explore the orchard regularly and like Grigio before them love climbing among the olive trees. They amuse and calm us, we try not to think about their future.

We have so far had a relaxing week without any big project.  It’s a pleasure to sit out and admire the view, the work we’ve done over the years and the way the garden has developed.  Of course we still get cross about the Comune and are disappointed by our olive crop but we have blue skies and a place to be, many people in the world don’t. 

Bound to happen

Giovanni our lovely neighbour returned to Rome about the same time we arrived here.  He’s away for almost 2 weeks.  He messaged us to say he’s been feeding a cat and 2 kittens, he’d left them 3 dishes of biscuits and hoped they’d come down to our house and we would feed them. I think it was around midday on Thursday that the kittens pitched up and by early evening the mother, still a kitten herself, arrived.

Luckily we had a few tins of cat food in the cupboard so we were able to feed them.

All 3 cats are in good condition, clean, friendly and very sweet.  They soon discovered the delights of the hotel Splendido on the terrace, the comfy pizza oven and the cat apartment, not to mention the sofas and dining chairs.  The little ones are playful and the mother almost brave enough to climb onto my knee.  There has been a lot of purring.

But what’s going to happen in November when we leave.  Mario was enraged when he saw the cats here and told us not to feed them.  He’s giving me the message he doesn’t want to feed them while we were away, as he did when we had Vincenzo.  When I tackled him last year about this he said of course he’d feed the cat and not for the money we pay him, he does it from his heart.  A week after we left he took the cat, the food we’d provided, dishes and our cat carrier to his house, we got none of them back.  

It’s a dilemma.  Even if the cats go back to Giovanni next week we know he won’t make any provision for them over the winter.  I hate this cruel Italian attitude towards animals. I have mentioned before that our Comune sent out a directive banning the feeding of stray animals. Fortunately an animal welfare organisation stepped in and put a stop to it. The Comune should educate people how to care for pets and promote a sterilisation programme that would reduce numbers but almost all the Italian men I know think this is wrong, that’s a surprise not.

We love having cat company again but we are setting ourselves up for more stress and heartbreak.