On famiglia territoria

Everyone's excited about their plans for ferragosto so it was especially hard to focus in classe when Rita's boring us with her dreary tales again. We managed to finish condizionale and finally started on congiuntivo. It was a good idea to refresh my italiano, as it seemed clearer the 2nd time round - I even liked imperfetto and imperativo! Anyway L and I caught the coach on a 5-hr long journey to Napoli - which was definitely cheaper, more comfortable and direct than the treno. His dad Raef picked us up at P. Garibaldi and mamma Melina started stuffing us the minute we entered the door.

There was pasta with baby mussels and zucchini, insalata di polpo (octopus) and my favourite fat green olives from their family friend Enrico. I peeped into the well-stocked frigo with food to last a month as most shops and markets were closed for ferragosto. After dinner, his cugina Linda and hubby Massimo (who has since trimmed down a lot) came over with their 3 lovely kids - Felice, Valerio and Michela - all golden brown like a typical italian famiglia. It was great to see them again, after nearly a year. A shame the 2 zitelle zie were on a cruise holiday, but 'meglio cosi', said L who didn't want to deal with their insistent questions.

The following morning, Mel was up early frying zucchini fritters for me which drove L crazy. Ahh, family. We hurried to catch the 11am+ ferry (10e) to Ischia, also known as the green isle among Capri and Procida, for some sun and sea. The bus no. 2 was packed to the brim and we managed to hold on tight untill our stop at Citara. Every spot along the spiaggie was taken up by the sun-worshipping hordes of tourists; infatti L said the population here swells up to 5 times in summer. The water's not bad but couldn't compare to the Sicilian seas - anyway I turned brown in an hour while L turned a slight roasted pink. Luckily we decided to leave as the heat got unbearable, and managed to wave down the packed 4pm bus in time for the 5pm ferry back.

That evening, we moved into Linda and Massimo's house as they had gone for a family beach getaway. They got a spacious top-level flat with a bigarse terrace which overlooked the bay. We had some of L's old friends for drinks and to admire the ferragosto fireworks. I was quite proud of myself, chatting with Mario, Cristina, Alessandro and his friendly Spanish ragazza Nora. I don't like being the dumb Asian chick, handicapped by the language and social skills. At times I feel frustrata and disadvantaged by italiano because it doesn't allow me to fully express my point of view and 'argue' on equal terms. I'd ask L, why can't the stupid italians speak english??

Sabato, we drove to Napoli to pick up Michele who agreed with me that the citta is the underbelly of Italia, where the rejects of societa' fit in. Nothing shocks anyone here, esp the gypsies, homeless, drunks, drug addicts and illegal overstayers. The best thing to do is to mind your own f*ckin' business and try not to stare at anyone. Perhaps that's why everyone seemed to maintain an air of indifference, yet at the same time cultivate a quick reflex for criminals, beggars and bad drivers. L's a great example, he seemed very chilled here but I could sense he's always on guard. We went to see the amazing Duomo again (this time I brought my camera) and then the richly frescoed Cappella Sansevero for its masterpiece - the Cristo Velato marble scultura with its intricately carved details.

We then drove to Zio Rino's 'La Vigna' agriturismo /ristorante/ vineyard (www.lavignaagriturismo.com) for a sumptuous pranzo at its shady courtyard under a thick cover of green grapevines. There were antipasti of salumi, formaggi, olives, fagioli beans, mushrooms, bruschette, fritters and crusty bread washed down with chilled vino bianco. Rino then arranged a tasting platter of 2 pasta and 1 risotto, and a big slab of grilled bistecca with rucola e patate which made us groaned with protests.

Rino then showed off his 5 new camere and farm where they grow their own vegetables, vines, fruit trees, and reared rabbits for meat and chickens for eggs. He didn't want to give us the bill at first but we insisted because it's after all a business. When we left, it was close to 5.30pm already so we walked off the calories at the new long jetty and soaked up the tramonto at Parco Virgiliano.

We did niente on Sunday as L was feeling the effects of sleeping in an air-con room; the poor guy's very sensitive to change in temperature and pollution. Mel whipped up a satisfying lasagne, parmigiana, and surprised me with a tray of my fav aragoste alla nutella! Everytime she'd have a gleam in her eyes and cut open the familiar blue-wrapped pasticceria tray. Grateful, I gobbled down 2 with some espresso. His cugini - Paola, Fabrizio e Angelo - came over to hang out, followed by Zio Adolfo, his wife Margherita and 2 kids Vincenzo and Alessia. In the evening, we went to throw the trash and decided to go for a quiet passeggiata around town. But Pozzuoli's such a small town, it's impossible not to run into a family member or friend.

First, there was Enzo's amico Arturo (who thanked me for recommending them Sirocco bar at Bangkok), then Angelo at the dodgy carpark, and poi Mario, Aless, Nora and Pablo at the nearby parco. L was wheezing a lot by this time and his eyes watery so we hurried home and walked by nonna's flat, where Zia Silvana was at the balcone. We then saw Zio Rino and their figlia Federica stepping out of the car and decided to pop in for a minuto. Just as we were leaving, nonna and all the other zie and zii came back much to L's dismay, and it was a madhouse at the streets below. Everyone started talking at the same time, and coming forth to kiss me on the cheeks. There was a flurry of faces - Zia Giovanna, Zio Pepe, Zia Maria, Zio Mimo, Zio Matteo (whom I've never met before) and his snobbish wife Anna.

After lunch the next day, we took the treno back to Perugia and were actually quite glad to have some peace and quiet in our own home. Classes resumed and that mercoledi, we went to a student concerto and held an impromptu festa at the balcone above the stage area, but were asked to take our party somewhere. Bo. The standard was not fantastico but the studenti put up a good, varied show and everyone started dancing to the last act.

Ferragosto

The weather didn't get any better and it hadn't rained for 2 weeks. 'Meglio cosi (better like this) per ferragosto', said Giuseppe, our teacher for pronuncia who would be making vino at home during the upcoming national holiday on the 15th Agosto. The mosquitoes were out in full force, determined to indulge in some summer fun too. I heard a Taiwanese classmate had 200 bites, che terribile! We had our fair share and rubbed the Chinese ointment which served well as a repellent and cure-all. At first, L said the ointment smelled gross but changed his mind after an incident where he suffered a bad tummy ache and broke into a cold sweat. I insisted on rubbing the magic oil on his belly to sooth his pains and boy, was he hooked.

The highlights of the past week were probably the month-end course test (which I thought was fairly easy but I made many mistakes!), the Festival Mediterraneo a Perugia and the Olympics which horded the news headlines. So far Italia has won 3 gold medals, including women fencing and women judo - way to go ladies! We went to Michele for his house party on venerdi and I made chicken curry alongside the other dishes of sukiyaki (by the Giapponesi), pane al formaggio (Georgiana) and riso fritto (Taiwanesi). Only Kumar the indiano didn't bring anything. L had bet his last dollar on it and snorted when he found out.

Already some classmates were on holiday elsewhere in Sicilia and Calabria, as we drew near to ferragosto. Sabato scorso, we had gone to Spello - a nearby hillside town - which exceeded our expectations, especially L who had complained it's another shitty little town in Umbria. The vista leading to it was gorgeous; there was a matrimonio that day and the Santa Maria Maggiore chiesa (built in 1285) was decked up for it. A shame the famosa Cappella Baglioni inside was blocked off so we couldn't see the bel fresco di Pinturicchio. Everyone seemed very relaxed; the old folks were gathered in the shady piazza and elegant wedding guests were loitering around to show off their suits and dresses. We spotted Romeo, a blind tuxedo gatto on a leash, who climbed gingerly onto my lap when I started to stroke him.

The next day on domenica, after 2 hours of surfing the web and studying the mappa of Umbira while L held his breath in anticipation, I decided it'd be feasible to visit the gorgeous Cascata delle Marmore just outside the industrial città-province Terni. This waterfall was created by the Romans by damming the river to create hydro-energia centuries ago and continued to draw crowds till this day. Getting there was no breeze, as we had to catch the treno from the other stazione St Anna al centro and poi catch the autobus which circled Terni before making its way to the cascata.

I spotted it from afar, its white torrents like a white curtain streaming down the lush green mountains. A cool blanket of mist hovered over the park enclosure and made it a more pleasant sensation to enjoy the spectacle accompanied by a glorious rainbow. We wolfed dowm a porchetta panino (ok I ate most of it) before climbing up the quasi vertical Route 1, the most challenging course at 40mins and 150m to the top. Young and old, fat and skinny ones all made it up, and the vista was well worth the ascend. We could almost touch the rainbow.

That night, we were contented with staring at the cielo as 12th Agosto was 'La Notte di San Lorenzo' - the Night of St. Lawrence - also called 'La Notte dei Desideri' (the Night of Wishes). Interestingly every year on the 10th August, Italians turn their eyes skyward hoping to see a shooting star during this Perseid meteor shower (this year it's 2 days late). The numerous stelle cadenti (falling stars) are actually remains of the comet Swift-Tuttle, discovered in 1862.

I'm not sure if this is visible in Singapore but try to look at the sky between 10 and 20 Agosto. We did and were rewarded with not just one but a few falling stars - glowing like the tail-end sparks of a burning matchstick - from our tiny attic window. These falling stars are believed to represent 'lacrime', tears shed for San Lorenzo during his 10th August burial after he died a martyr’s death in 258 A.D. whereby he was burned alive on a gridiron. His famous last words were: “I am roasted enough on this side; turn me over and eat.” And so on this night - no, italians don't celebrate by eating porchetta, the local stuffed roast pig - but they hope their wishes will come true with every stella cadente in sight.

Money money money

I just realised I hadn't collected the seconda rata (25%) of my scholarship (700e), luckily Kumar reminded me. When I got to the segretariat, il kapo (the boss) said:
- 'Ahh, sei l'ultima! Hai soldi!' (Ah you're the last one, you have money!)
Me: 'Nooo, ho dimenticato.' (I forgot lah)
- Him: 'Forse sei inamorata?' (Maybe you're in love?)
Me: 'Eh.'
Him: 'L'importante è lui è bravo.'
Me: 'Si si, molto!'

He's funny, always wisecracking with studenti despite his stern persona. This week I dragged Michele and Dali to the bar for our fav mojitos. And on mercoledi, we invited Gang and Tony the 2 ragazzi cinesi to our place for dinner. L prepared antipasto of caprese and ham, and cooked peperoncini and meatballs in pomodori. Gang said I'm very socievole (sociable), which is probably driven by my innate curiosità about other cultures and using the opportunità to communicare in italiano!

The weather's getting unbearably hot - as high as 37 deg C - as Agosto arrives. Millions of italians escape to the montagna or mare during this period nearing the ferragosto, annual summer holiday. Taking the cue from them, I suggest to L that we'd go to the nearest beach to satiate our craving for some blue blue ocean. Per la prima volta, è contentissimo di questa buona idea! We picked Falconara, one of the many beach towns dotting the Marche coast near Ancona.

Il tempo era perfetta quel sabato quando siamo arrivati a falconara. We had taken the early 7am treno and reached there at 10am+, molto eccitati sotto il blu cielo. Falco was just waking up and needed a huge cup of caffe like us. Determined to splurge on a room with a bella vista of the mare, we sniffed out 2 alberghi - the first was pure horror film material with a toilet that hadn't been scrubbed for 20 years (40e) while the second was a non-descript room with just 4 walls (80e) - before huffing up the steep slopes to the top (a good sign I said to L) to Hotel Touring.

There was 1) a piscina (pool) - a good start since we are both suckers for it, 2) the receptionist was very friendly and 3) gave us the key to a room at the top 4th floor with a seaview (92e). We were sold by the vista alone, which stretched to Ancona bay. And did I mention the aircon? A luxury and lifesaver in this wench weather. We changed into our swimgear and plunged into the pool to cool down before heading into the centro for a late lunch.

The spiaggia (beach) was crowded with a zillion ombrelloni and wrinkly sun worshippers. L took a look at the acqua and rather stayed dry in case his sensitive skin act up. We were also determined to indulge in some pesce (seafood) since landlocked Perugia was hardly the place for it. The pool boy's dinner recommendation - L'Arnia - was quite a fancy modern joint however the menu was down-to-earth. We were pleased with the starters of insalata di polpo (octopus) and carpaccio di spada crudo con finochio (swordfish with fennel), poi classica zuppa di pesce and risotto con cozze e fiori di zucca (mussels n zucchini flowers). The bottiglia of vino bianco (from Marche of course) round up the meal to 60e, reasonable compared to what we pay in S'pore.

Allora to Orvieto

No time to waste on weekends, we caught the 11.41am treno to Orvieto, switching trains at T. Cortona in Toscana. It was a good one and half hour ride to this medievale città perched on top of an imposing sharp tufa platform which was the remnant of a volcano. We opted for the more interessante and faster way to get up i.e the funicular or cable railway, commonly found at towns with steep slopes. The sky was heavy with dark clouds and the wind sent us hurrying down the main street Corso Cavour, where most shops were closed on domenica.

Kiasu, we checked out the menus of 4 ristoranti before deciding on La Grotta, a charming trattoria housed in a former stable. I couldn't resist the pappardelle alla cinghiale and recommended the handmade pasta with carciofi (artichokes) to L, so I could try it too. Hehe. Poi we shared the secondo - piccione all'olive - half a pigeon smothered and cooked in a lipsmacking black olive paste. There were also the contorni (sides) of fagiolini, bietola (chard) and pepperoni served with an organic olive oil. A must is the local specialità, Orvieto Classico, vino bianco to complement the meal (57e).

Per fortuna, the sky held up so we hurried to the Duomo, THE landmark-icon of Orvieto - founded by Pope Nicholas IV in 1290. The splendida horizontal-white-n-grey marbled cathedral took more than 300 years to complete and reminded me of the Duomo in Siena. Infatti it seemed like a close copy, perhaps because the architect-sculptor is Sienese. Inside one is drawn to the vetrata (stained glass windows) and famed frescoes di Luca Signorelli. Outside we gawked at the bas-reliefs and statues adorning the Gothic-italian style building.

Orvieto also offers a tunnel of ancient underground caves which were used as cellars or workshops, plus two pozzi (wells) which were masterpieces of Roman engineering but we didn't have time and just glimpsed at Sant' Andrea and its imposing 12-sided bell tower before the downpour arrived.

We did have time to stop and shoot these 2 cutie pies at a souvenir shop. L is always the first to spot them, he has an eye for details while I see the big picture. The shopkeeper said they are not his but yet he feeds them. Poor guy didn't realise the 2 female cats have adopted him. One was very docile and let him carry her and pat her belly affectionately. (See the foto, she's even looking at the camera! So cute! So far I have at least 5 great cat foto for the exhibition next year.)

We managed to catch the treno back and didn't validate the biglietto again. Evil laugh. This way we could exchange it for another trip. I was already looking forward to the next festa da Michele on venerdi, where everyone would be bringing a national dish (me doing chicken curry lah). Naturalmente I was the party instigatore; sempre the event coordinator. I've already bought some Hello Kitty party hats and thought of a charade (italian words of course!) so we could get brilli and giggly!

Festa centro

Time flew by in a week as the classes resumed. We were pretty domesticated by now and took turns to cook, clean and go for the evening passeggiata. On venerdi, Kiyoshi the streetwise giapponese cuoco invited the class to his farewell home party because he'd be leaving for Sardegna to work for summer. By the time we got there at 9.40pm, the others had arrived and were tucking into the sushi and bbq stuff cooked by him and another korean chap. It was fun switching from italian to cinese with the 2 Cinesi guys - Gang and Tony - and the Taiwanesi gals. Gang is from Beijing and working in Italy as an engineer with Volvo for many years; he's very well versed with the italiana cultura and is also very well travelled.

They laughed and were suitably impressed when I made L speak some cinese. Soon, the conversation flowed as the vino poured, and funnily everyone's italian was better especially Yuko whose accento was sempre terribile. Naturally I taught the rest some parolaccia (swear words) such as 'sei un pezzo di merda' (you're a piece of shit), 'sei un figlio di putana' (you're a son of a bitch) and 'ti faccio un culo cosi' (I make your arse so big) which sent them shrieking. We also asked the Japanese to teach us some swear words but they told us their culture is too polite to even have an equivalent of 'fu%k you'. Incredibile! I asked the Taiwanese girls if they understood our hokkien swearword 'kanni nabu eh chao chee bye' and they giggled and giggled. Obviously they did! Without realising it, it was close to 3am so Tony gave us a lift back in his mini Mercs.

The next day we woke up late for the sabato mercato near the stadio and tried to find our way there on foot but got lost. It wasn't charming in the steaming heat so we quickly went to the bus terminal to catch the bus to Marsciano for the sagra del cinghiale (festival of wild boar). Interestingly we saw a bus to Bastardo, which is not far from Perugia - imagine if you are born there, a bastardino. Midway there to Marsciano - some god forsaken town which is not even in my guidebook, the driver told us the bus doesn't go to Migliano where the sagra is. Merda!

We have no luck with sagre at all and swore no more sagre unless they are located in an accessible place! Everything was closed at M at close to 3pm and only the old folks were chatting at a cafe on this hot day. The only ristorante we found has closed its cucina so we had to settle for a proscuitto and cheese platter, and bresaola and rucola insalata. There'd be a concerto that evening feauring Georgia, a pop singer - why she picked Marsciano we had no freakin idea. I pointed a roadsign 'Via Karl Marx' and a communist political party poster to L who said there are still many communists in Italy, especially in Umbria. Interessante. We hurried home to cook strangozzi al tartufo bianco, non è male, infatti it was buono come al ristorante.

Class Act I

The weather turned hot and chilly during the past 3 weeks. The cheap 13euros ventilatore (fan) we bought and assembled had come in useful during the first few stuffy days and nights. Even on cool days, the clothes would dry in a couple of hours. My skin felt so dry and I could see the faint creases on my face more clearly. Per fortuna, I got 2 crema which L kept stealing. The first week of registrazione was crazy as every student was queueing up at the segretariat, banca and questura for documenti to be processed. Applying for the 'permesso di soggiorno' (resident permit) - which was bullshit secondo noi - was a freakin nightmare and testament of the exhausting Italian bureaucractic sistema.

Clean drinking water and security were another 2 issues that we probably take for granted in S'pore. In italia there's a bank robbery every odd month and last week a man was stabbed to death at Via del bacio near our stazione, the preferred hangout for various kinds of shady characters (mainly immigrants). That's why I always watch my own back (and behind in case someone pinches my arse). Initially to save money, we tried to boil the tap water but there's sempre chalky residue in the electric kettle. We resorted back to the bottled mineral acqua and sent them to the recycling bins every week.

Anyway I paid more than 100euros for the permesso and felt silly photocopying every single page of my passaporto to include in the applicazione. Ma fortunatamente I also got 700 euros from the scholarship allowance and a sconto on the course fee. Earlier I was also stressed about the entrance test which would assign me to the relevant livello. Infatti il mio italiano è un po 'rusty' ma provo dal mio meglio. Per fortuna, the written and orale test were easier than I imagined and I got B2, which I had applied for. Classes kicked into full gear clocking 23 hours a week which left me with enough time to chill and discover Perugia.

I've been having a ball of a time refreshing my italiano with the teachers and newfound amici del mondo. It certainly felt like 'Mind Your Language' - ma in italiano. The most important lezione so far was that learning is for life - no matter what age or background. Everyone was perky and inquisitive, save for a couple of lazy bags who were perpetually late for classes. We have all more or less studied all the grammar - but are refreshing the rules and delving into a deeper level of the language as well as various aspects della cultura italiana. Where else is better to live and breathe la lingua?

I wasn't my talkative self in the first 2 weeks perchè ci sono alcuni piu bravi studenti, come the ever ernest Kumar from India also on a scholarship who's seated up front next to me, and Michele, a gentlemanly retiree from Germany currently residing in Seychelles who keeps saying 'oui' and 'solamente'. There were also 3 ragazze from Georgia (its near Turkey) who speak quasi fluently, specialmente Tama chi parla come un bullet treno. But I picked up the pace and volunteer to read nowadays. Hehe. There were 3 Yukos among the 10-odd giapponesi, 2 cinesi boys (Fabio e Ciro), 2 taiwanesi gals (Paola e Margherita), Simona the German girl, Lisa the Aussie, and Olga from Khazanistan.

They were all pretty surprised that I speak fluent inglese (mamma mia!) and even impressed when I spoke cinese. Singaporeans should be proud of ourselves. As my officiale nome is L. K. Yen, I stuck to Yen to make it easier for them to remember. We were taught by 4 diversi teachers; Rita per lingua italiana, Daniela per cultura italiana, Giuseppe per pronuncia e grafia, e poi Teresa per esercitazioni orali. La mia preferita insegnante è Daniela, the witty, eccentric chain-smoking suspected-lesbian who's also a fierce feminist and published poeta-scrittrice. She amazed us with her profondo knowledge of filosofia and latino. I was inspired to write my prima poesia italian after one of her classes:

Sentimenti
Le piace il suo azzuro
di un cuore vero,
Ama anche la fresca rosa
delle sue parole parlate,
Contentissima sarà
di respirare la sua aria,
Si perderà lentamente
in un abbraccio forte.

- Carla 17.07.08

Sing the right keys

Tanti auguri a me! My 33rd birthday came and went without much hoo-haa and I didn't feel any different. L said I'm obsessed con i numeri, è vero. I'm always curiosa about someone's age when I first meet them. In ogni caso, sono contenta che io stia qui in mio preferito paese con uno dei miei amici migliori. I got home that day and found a big bunch of roses on the bed, che dolce! We went out to 'Il Padrino' per cena that evening where the chatty chef tried to sell everyone tartufo but we opted for the carne e pesce set menus and una bottiglia di vino bianco. When we got home, he gave me a pair of lovely diamond earrings... ooo. So clever!

On sabato durante the last weekend di Umbria Jazz, I was adamante on going to the concerto di Alicia Keys but was sure we won't get any more tickets. L assured me otherwise as siamo in italia, and true enough, the italians are queueing up for last-minute biglietti at the concerto. We got ours for 40euros each, and settled under the starry stelle with birra in hand. Alicia was rockin' the house il minuto she came on with songs from her recent album 'As I Am' which I've been blasting a casa. The highlight was during the second last encore when she got the crowd singing to the hit 'No One'. I was waving my arms and standing grinning ear-to-ear on the chair.

The next day on domenica, we missed the 11am bus to Gubbio by just 5mins and I nearly sobbed, but L convinced me to catch the one at 2pm and be back on the 6.40pm later; we'd have enough time to see Gubbio he said. At close to noon, there was already a mass of tifosi (fans) outside the Arena which was next to the bus terminal; they were there first in line for the free-standing R.E.M concerto at 9pm (10 ore dopo, siao!). I told L italians can be kiasu too. The bus ride to Gubbio was enjoyable as we ascended the hills and the vista was stupenda.

Like many other medievale towns, Gubbio - located at the foot of Mt Lugino - was fortified by the Romans which left remnants such as a mausoleum and teatro for 6,000pax. We got off at Piazza Q. Martiri and marched up the steep slopes to the top where the imposing Palazzo dei Consoli lorded over Piazza Grande. I love its Gothic architecture, evident from the fan-shaped flight of steps and animal-shaped steel loops that adorned the bricked walls.

From the loggia, we drank in the fine views below before seeking respite from the blazing sole at the Cathedral; è sempre fresco e tranquillo in una chiesa. We tried to climbed on foot to Basilica Sant'Ubaldo at the very top but the path was closed. Every year on 15 maggio, there's a Corsa dei Ceri (candle race) as spectacular as Siena's Palio where 3 ancient bigarse candles (10m high & 200kg heavy) are hoisted to the basilica. We couldn't imagine doin' any heavylifting in this heat, and descended to locate the Porta Romana.

By chance, we came across the funivia which I've read about in the guidebook. All'inizio, I thought it was a cable car but on close inspection, it was a rather fast moving chain of small birdcages, each big enough for 2 standing adults! Fiona would have died on the spot from fear. I was the first to hop in and then L quickly leaped into the cage, before it took off 300m up above the canopy of cipresi trees. We clung to each other for dear life and giggled nonstop, afraid to turn around or make any slightest movement.

Forse a small fart would send it swaying. It clunked and moaned as we sailed closer to the top. We looked down at the ground below and tried not to imagine the worst. The splendid panorama's only drawback was the glaring sunrays which blanketed the plains below. In any caso, the ride down was even more pee-inducing. It's amazing that it operates 365 days a year, even during inverno (winter) when a gigantic xmas tree is lit up across the hills for all to see.

Poi we strolled down Corso Garibaldi to Piazza Q.M nearly an hour early for our bus back to Perugia. At every town and città in Italia, there's bound to be a Corso Garibaldi, Via Repubblica o Via del Duomo, Piazza Umberto o Emmanuele Vittorio; all named after past leaders, emperors, famous writers-poets, saints, monuments ecc. We joined the bigger crowd at the antiques market, and noted the old folks especially the aunties, dressed in their Sunday best, gossiping away at the parco.

Operazione Perugia

Italy's biggest jazz festa, the famous Umbria Jazz which is into its 35th anniversario, has ended as quickly as it has started. Since 11 luglio, Perugia has been packed to the brim with jazz fans and Corso Vannucci al centro è sempre affollato. Every evening there's a street parade, followed by a variety of free acts at various venues as well as ticketed international jazz /blues / soul concerts such as Alicia Keys and REM.

After classes, L and I'd meet up al centro for a gelato at GROM (they have yummy flavours created by Slow Food Italia) or the yummy 6euros mojitos al bar Punto di Vista located near Piazza Italia, with a breathtaking view of Perugia's perferia. The sun sets at around 9pm here and one evening, the sky was painted in varying shades of the rainbow as dark clouds hovered far away across the green horizon. Italians love their modo di dire (saying), and one of them is 'rosso di sera, bel tempo si spera'. If the evening is red, the weather will hopefully be great tomorrow.

Another favourite one of mine is 'tutte le strade ci portano a Roma' : all roads lead to Rome. It's true, è impossibile to get lost here. The only way is up or down from the centro as we found out on foot numerous times. Last sabato, we drove up to Lago Trasimeno again after a sumptuous homecooked lunch (proscuito e porchetta con figs, pasta con ricotta e vino) with L's cousin Gino and their best bud Antonio, a looseball, who drove all the way from Napoli.

Antonio is a true nutcase and muppet character with his bushy caterpillar eyebrows and caricature goofy grin. A sports giornalista, he speaks in a raspy 25-sigarette-a-day voce and gesticulates at full speed and hits on every donna including a lone nun, so you can imagine how he cracks us up constantly with his stupidi antics. Gino on the other hand is a bashful, boyish Brett Anderson lookalike albeit with gappy teeth. They kept us entertained with their recent escapade at Ischia and avventura with 2 Lithuanian gals. Poi a sera we went to a fabulous trattoria 'Dal Mi Coco', where Gino used to frequent when he was studying here. The menu fisso at just 13euros included 4 courses - assorted bruschette, eccezionale farrò con porcini, maccaroni pasta, arosto misto con insalata, torta di mandorla e shots of vin santo all round. Mmmmm.

To giro, to giro

Weekends are precious for us to explore Umbria, described as the Cuore Verde D'Italia (green heart of Italia). It is a sacred landlocked state, lush and hilly, blessed with Estrucan finds, Roman ruins and ancient medievale towns. During the first weekend, we took the treno to Lago Trasimeno just 20mins away for an excurison to the 4th largest lake in Italy where in 217 BC Hannibal defeated the Romans (for the 3rd time). We needed to see some sparkling acqua and the vast lago was blinding past noon.

In an hour or so, we toured the lakeside town Passignano so we got on the traghetto to Isola Maggiore. There was a post-humus confermazione of gold medal to a native for his efforts during the war and we followed the procession led by some the heavily-studded generals and VIPs. Dopo una granita, we climbed to the top for a view of the lago and then spotted more cats including Nerina, a black gatto with 2 old folks. There was even a mafia cat who was not afraid of us even though he was blind from cataracts, poverino.

Perugia's walls are plastered with posters advertising 'sagre' (festivals) of all kinds - sagra di nutella, di peperoncino (chilli), di cinghiale (wild boar), di lumaca (snails) ecc. Curiosi, we decided to check out this interessante sagra del 'Pane, Proscuitto & Fantasia 2008' at Preci in the montagna sud di Umbria on domenica but it turned out there was no bus from Norcia that day. Che cazzo. Italians! We had taken the hour-long train ride to Spoleto and then waited an hour for the bus to Norcia 40mins away.

It is a fortified town at the foot of Monte Sibillini and is renowned for its local delicacies such as cured pork meats, sausages, truffles and Castelluccio lentils. Infatti Norcia is home to Italy's oldest surgery school thus they believe the locals have benefited from this intrinsic understanding of the human anatomia and have applied it to processing pork. A 'norcino' has thus been associated to a pork butcher. The first thing that caught our eye was the number of salumerie displaying stuffed cinghiale (wild boars), sacks of beans, whole legs of ham, heaps of strangozzi pasta, and strings of salumi. There was even coglioni di mulo (donkey's testicles, ee-hor).

The sun came down hard and we strayed in and out of the shops in an hour. Not about to give up so quickly, I drew a sign 'PRECI' and we tried to hitch a ride to the sagra some 17km away but to no avail after 45mins. Merda. Maybe L should ve hidden in the bushes while I lift my skirt to distract the cars. Bo. Nonetheless Norcia was a fun experience as we comforted ourselves with a buono pranzo at 'Il Cenacolo' comprising a mixed platter of proscuitto, salami & cheeses, followed by spaghetti al tartufo nero and Norcia salsiccia con contorno di pepperoni, tainted with plenty of bello fresco vino bianco.

We lugged back some pasta and fresh ricotta for our many culinary experiments of east-meets-west. Just ieri, L begged me to cook his favourite chicken curry which he savoured over 2 days. Per me, I couldn't get enough of the produce here and have stocked up with all my preferito stuff e.g proscuitto, formaggio, olives, anchovies, capers, pickled artichokes, pesca di tè, vino, pasta, nutella and seasonal veggies and frutta. Ogni giorno andiamo al supermercato COOP per guardare il cibo fresco specialmente la grande anguria e numerosi salumi. My mouth would start to water everytime they carve the velvety ham, 2 etti per favore!

Benvenuta in italia!

Ah finalmente, I've found time to use the net after a whirlwind 2 weeks in italia. The summer heat was oppressive, as we discovered in Roma, during the weekend I arrived from S'pore. AS I have visited most places, we just walked around to soak up the buzz at the major sights such as the Villa Borghese, Spanish Steps, Trevi Fontana, Colosseo, Castel S. Angelo, Vaticano ecc and tried to locate the Bocca della Verita (Mouth of Truth) to test if we're liars but it was closed when we found it at dusk.

We love walking everywhere and were happily exhausted by the end of everyday. The highlight of sabato was cena at the packed Augustarello ristorante which M recommended in the quiet Testaccio neighbourhood. Even L said it was one of his best meals. We waited almost half an hour for a tavolo and pondered a long while before ordering the delizioso primo di gnocchi con pajata di agnello (tiny lamb intestines) and abbacchio al forno (roasted veal with patate), washed down with a bottiglia of Vigna Flaminio di Brindisi - a gorgeous earthy, velvety red from the south.

The train ride to Perugia was fairly fast and we gobbled up the mozzarella that L's mamma had packed for us, sliced upon a proscuitto panino. Upon arrival at Perugia, it was a tiresome 2 days' waiting for the bitch Beatrice to evacate from the appartamento which we are taking over. Finalmente she moved her shit out and we went around cleaning the cosy attico, tucked away on the topmost 4th floor on Via Colomba Antonietti (behind the stazione - you could barely see it in the foto). In 2 weeks I've discovered a quicker route to the stazione which is near the mini metro. A short 8mins ride takes me up to the centro on the hill and a quick 5mins trot leads me to the Universita Per Stranieri. Most of my classmates stay in the centro, ma non c'e problema, as it was very convenient to get there everyday with my 3-mesi 91euros abbondamento (pass).

L said most of the appartamenti up there are very tiny and expensive. For the same price (400E), we got a small cucina, soggiorno, bagno and camera. The view from our cubby hole was bellissima as it overlooked the cipresi trees opposite and the baking citta to the left. The neighbourhood is tranquilla, save for some putane and tranvestites parading along the strada at night (you'd think it's Geylang). We have adopted a family of picconi (pigeons) just outside our window ledge and mamma piccione religiously guards her nest with 2 newly laid eggs. Saremo nonni prestissimo!