wind
The trip to Italy last month was good, but as memories are already failing me, I've obtained permission to share with you the following email that Dr B. sent a friend describing it:
Dear D.,
The weekend just past saw us go on a long weekend to Italy to meet his mother and middle brother of 3, the priest! (Luca is the youngest) - His mum lives with this brother. They live 5 minutes' drive from Trieste airport, which is in North East Italy and one hour and a half east of Venice. It was FREEZING - the Bora, the wind which blows in from Eastern Europe was blowing on the Thursday and it then rained from Friday night until we left on Monday. During Friday day time we went to Venice: had a walk around, saw the bridge and St. Mark's square and met up with his nephew's girlfriend.
It's carnival at the moment so there were lots of people dressed up in costumes and masks with lots of 'deep-fried' carnival fritters also being available - I had those and a Cornetto! By the time we'd finished walking around Venice even Luca was singing 'Just one cornetto - give it to me . .. ' and hes never seen the advert!
Had meals with lots of his friends, although the most memorable one was one of the ones with his brother and mum - his mum thought that it would be a good idea if I had a traditional dish from the region - pasta you would think - NOOOOO. Because it's so close to Austria and Slovenia there is a very strong Bavarian influence - his mum had cooked us Sauerkraut and sausages. They were proper sausages, from the butcher, made with real guts - they were yellow and you could see threads on the surface where the veins had been - I can deal with this I thought.
I noticed that Luca's brother was peeling the skin off - apparently you shouldn't eat it (yet you cook with it?) and also noticed that the end of the sausages looked a little like a bum hole opening up to reveal a nice fresh turd. Don't think, eat, I told myself. I peeled the yellow gut from my sausages and took a mouthful of pink meat (is it cooked?) It was like chewing on diced gristle - I was going OK until Luca said that he couldn't eat it - it was probably full of nerve-endings and pigs lips - Bluuurggg - I managed to swallow but no more was consumed after that - his mum was a bit offended.
Came back with loads of food and wine from his brother - as he's a priest he gets loads of gifts. I was expecting to have to say grace and everything - but nothing - apparently that's just in America! My italian now covers the essentials - Mangio - I eat, Mangiamo? - we eat?, Stanco - I'm tired and Cazzo - cock. Just as we were leaving his brother took us into his Church to see the Nativity scene which had been there for the last 25 years - It was made out of about 50 Barbies and Kens and looked a bit surreal - they told the girls, 25 years ago, that it would only be for 2 weeks - they're still waiting for their dolls back!
Love,
Dr B.
We're going again at the end of April, with Ryanair flights for 49p each way plus tax - which once more will make the trip to Stanstead airport more expensive than the flight itself. God bless whovever decided to build an airport a little over one mile from my mother's house.