Tag Archives: summer

Learning Italian

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I never realised that learning Italian was a competitive sport.  But around the cottage this is starting to be the case.

Jean's homework.

We had our first lesson last Friday and were plunged into the realm of verbs – both the regular and the irregular.  I must have been away the day they covered all this in school so not only was I learning Italian I was also learning the structure of language – in Italian.  Suffice it to say I don’t think I’m going to be a star pupil.

My lovely wife, however, was taking it all in, chipping in with useful comments and questions and making copious notes along the way.  After an hour my brain was full and our tutor, Mauro, realising that nothing more was going in asked us to do a little homework for the next lesson.  Nothing too taxing but homework none the less.

We adjourned to a bar around the Campo in Siena for a well deserved drink and discussion.  We were pleased with the lesson and with our choice of language school.  Yes, there was some homework to do but, let’s face it, we didn’t have a lot else to do.  It should be easy – no stress.

Yesterday morning I rose at my usual time of 10am, refreshed my cup of tea in the kitchen, and wandered out to the verandah.  There, hunched over her notes with cigarette in hand, was my wife furiously scribbling homework notes, completing sentences, scouring the dictionary for nouns, and  filling page after page with perfectly executed Italian.

Now to put things in context, I’d spent upwards of 15 minutes the previous day sitting by the pool jotting down some random notes which I thought might cover the homework.  I had included a rather good doodle of an Italian villa on a hill with a Cypress tree next to it – not strictly part of the homework but I’m sure I would get extra marks for it.

I could see where this was going and I wasn’t going to stand for it.  The last 24 hours has seen a flurry of activity as notes are made about notes, verbs are conjugated and nouns are possessed and repossessed.  Conversation has been non-existent and the only sound has been the occasional sentence said aloud in italian to test pronunciation.

Alas I fear it is all to no avail as every time I sneak a look at Jean’s work I see myself drifting further behind the pace.  My only hope is that time honoured excuse – the dog ate my homework.

Now, where is Daisy?

Updates on the move

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I’ve just downloaded an app to my iphone that means I can update the blog anywhere, while I’m doing anything.

Or in this case lying by the pool on a sunny afternoon doing nothing.

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Everywhere we go – cars!

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Some of the more observant of you may have noticed that in some of our photos of Siena used in another post, there was a considerable crowd assembled outside the Palazzo Publicco in the Campo.

Initially we had no idea why they were there (to celebrate our return to Siena – probably not) or why part of the Campo was being blocked off and officials were running around putting up barriers, blowing whistles and generally ordering people around in the Italian way.

The first clue we had was the sound of high powered engines approaching through the narrow Sienese streets. The second clue was the appearance of some very expensive high performance motor cars which paraded through the Campo. The final clue was the large sticker on each car with a number and the moniker “Miglia 1000”.

It was the day the 2011 Miglia rally came through Siena. The Miglia is an annual rally event for historic cars of note or significance. That means very expensive cars or very old cars, or both. This year it included a Ferrari tribute to the Miglia as well – so that would be more expensive, very new cars. It took around 4 hours for all the cars to go through the Campo on their way north but it was a chance to see some cars that you would normally only be able to see in museums – including a genuine Porsche 550 Spyder.

For those of you who might like to participate in this event next year the entry fee is a mere €6,360.

Our place.

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In the last post about our home for the next six months I may have given the impression that it is small – and it is.  But, at the end of the day, it’s what we were expecting.

Of course it only took a week for Jean to perform a “tardis” like transformation on the place.  Two furniture shifts later and with a little interior decoration our place now feels like – our place.

There’s a list of stuff we’ll get over the next few weeks ranging from decent wine glasses (those of you who have rented a villa previously will remember the thimble sized wine glasses that inevitably are found in the cupboard) to more coat hangers and various kitchen tools and, as mentioned previously, that barbecue.

As predicted, the weather has warmed up – 26 degrees today – the front verandah has become the major living area in the mornings and afternoons.  Maybe we need to get a bigger table out there – something else to add to the list.

Invading Europe

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It was as simple as driving to Folkestone, flashing our passports at a seriously un-interested french customs officer sitting in a little booth and boarding the channel tunnel train.

Onboard the Chunnel Train.

Thirty five minutes later you drive off at Calais and head into Europe. Importantly remembering to drive on the other side of the road.

Bon Jour France.

Heading South

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Tomorrow we are departing English shores for the continent.  We’ve had a fantastic time with Gill and Andre and the kids who have really looked after us.  We will miss them terribly.  The good news is that we meet up with them again in July in Tuscany for a week.

Poppie making sure she isn't left behind.

Heading south means taking our car – the mighty Peugeot 308 wagon – through the channel tunnel by train and then driving south to Lille where we will spend the night. From there it’s a bit of an adventure until we get to Tuscany sometime later in the week.

Blog post regularity may suffer a little depending on access to the interweb, but please keep watching.

Friday 29 April – Just another day in the UK

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The papers the day of the wedding.

Well not really.  That wedding is on and the whole country has been given the day off and intends to make the most of it.  The team at Peers Drive, Aspley Guise are heading to the local village of Woburn (in the shadow of Woburn Abbey) to watch the wedding at the Black Horse pub.

The pub had gone out of it’s way to make people welcome and when we arrived it was full of locals – some dressed in their best frocks and hats or Sunday suits – watching proceedings on the big TV mounted in the corner of the bar.

Jean explaining the nuances of the dress to 11 year old Josh.

Once again the English proclivity for patriotism and pomp and circumstance meant the whole pub joined in to sing Jerusalem and God Save the Queen.

Union Jack flags, hats and bowties were handed out to anyone who wanted to look suitably silly.  And the plastic tiaras went down a treat with our ladies, as did many glasses champagne, of course.

The lads tended to show their support for the wedding from a distance – the length of the bar to be precise – and marked significant milestones in the ceremony with a series of celebratory pints.

Locals enjoying the show. Although the Queen Mum doesn't look too happy.

We ended the day with lunch at the pub and then home for endless TV replays and a wee sleep on the couch.  Lovely.

Footnote: apparently 23 million Britons watched the wedding which, by my calculation, is about 1 in 3 people in the British Isles.

Sick Poppie

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Having got the dogs here and then having had them treated for various things that might affect them in the UK and Italy, Poppie’s body finally said  – enough.

One unhappy little dog

It was the most innocuous treatment – essentially an English version of Frontline – that proved the last straw and saw her transform from a happy little dog to a very agitated, unhappy and unwell dog in the space of 2 hours.

For the last 5 days she has only wanted to sit on someone’s lap or hide herself among the pillows on the bed.  The world has held no interest for her and she just wanted everyone to go away and let her be.

After 3 trips to vet and a total bill of £250, we were none the wiser but were armed with skin washes, antihistamines and antibiotics, all the things that might help.

But in the end it was time that did the trick.  But it’s fair to say we will be looking for an alternative treatment for fleas and other crawlies for Poppie in the future.

Rule Britannia

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April 23 is St Georges Day. A chance for the English to celebrate their patron saint – and their sheer englishness.

The team off to the St Georges Day Ball - the Puppy stayed home.

We were lucky enough to be invited to the local St Georges Day Ball which was held in Bedford, about 20 minutes from where we are staying.

It was a black tie affair and included a reading from Shakespeare’s Henry V, the parading of the roast beef by the chef and members of the local Queens Guards regiment, and the singing of Land of Hope and Glory, Jerusalem (an odd choice of song to celebrate England I thought), Rule Britannia and, of course, God save the Queen.

And when I say singing, I mean at the top of our voices and accompanied by frantic flag waving – St George’s crosses of course.  Anyone who walked in would have thought we had all been drinking – which we had.

The Parading of the Roast Beef - of course. On our feet for Rule Britannia

The serious side of the evening was fundraising for a local mental health charity, and the fun side was enjoying a level of patriotism that we Kiwis don’t really understand, mixed with some great Roast Beef and Yorkshire pudding and some fine company.

A very special thanks to our friend Andre who managed to squeeze us onto the guest list.

On our feet for Rule Britannia

The countryside is turning yellow.

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The fields around Aspley Guise are turning bright yellow.  The crop is Rapeseed (Canola Oil) and the flowers are an intense, intense yellow.  In a week or two it will be harvested and the land will again be shades of green and brown but right now it looks stunning.

The English countryside is glowing.

English living

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For the last week have been staying in our friends house in the village of Aspley Guise about 15 minutes outside Milton Keynes.

When we arrived, our friends Gill and Andre and their children Josh (11) and Jordan (5) were in New York on holiday but thanks to lifesaving instructions left by Gill we moved in and found our way around the house, the village and the local area.

In fact we were so well settled that when Gill and Andre and family returned on Friday, they were greeted by the dogs as if they were visitors in their own home with much barking, jumping and running around.  The dogs were delighted to see our friends, however the children were not so sure about seeing the dogs.  It wasn’t helped by Daisy corralling the kids in the corner of the kitchen.

Happily that phase is over and Jordan and Poppie are, apparently, now best friends.  To a casual observer that seems to involve Jordan sitting next to Poppie stroking her with Poppie simply enjoying the added attention.  The way things are going I’m quite expecting to see Poppie dressed up in a frock, wearing lipstick and with high heels on some time in the not to distant future.

The English spring continues to develop with leaves returning to the trees in the garden and a constant supply of spring flowers popping up in the garden unannounced.  The weather, which turned cold last week, is back on track for a warm summer and it’s shorts and T shirts weather at present.

With that, it seems like time to head off to the local farmers market for a look see.