Addios Perugia

We couldn't believe this was the last week at Perugia. It seemed like just yesterday when we first arrived on a stuffy hot Sunday, when we cleaned out the cubby hole at 19 Via Colombo Antonietti, and how I've struggled with the iscrizione all' universita' and the merda di permesso di soggiorno. We got our test results back on martedi (cos Rita was lazy to mark all) and everyone did quite well (cos she was lenient and distracted with her cat, mamma, tv, weather, ecc). Anyway I didn't care less, as far as I know, I did my best and I did good. L was my best gauge, and said my italiano has gone up the roof specialmente with the parolaccia (I can even swear in napolitano now!)

I popped by the secretariat all'universita to collect the last bit of the scholarship money and paid 10e for the attestato di frequenza (cert of attendance), plus another 7e for postage and 14,62e for the miseria marca da bollo. We all couldn't believe how much shit and add-on expenses there are to everything here. On mercoledi, L's cugino Angelo came by to stay with us after his year-long stint in the militaria at nearby Viterbo. Angelo's a bit of a madcap but at times a shy quiet boy, you never know what to expect.

Anyway we brought him to a farewell cena with my classmates at Da Mi Coco (only 13e); there were 11 of us, most of the Japanese girls, Mic, Paola, L and me. Angelo was instantly attracted to Yuko Prima and I think she also found him cute, because they were soon posing for foto together and having a private sigaretta pausa. Ooh la la. Angelo said that he had invited Y to come visit him anytime at Napoli and she said she'd come with us that venerdi when we'd leave together! Talk about being interested!

We ate and drank to our hearts' content, poi braced the windy cold outside for a nightcap at a bar. The next day, L, A and I took off to nearby Foligno (40mins away) for the festa dei primi piatti d'italia, our 4th sagra of summer 2008. There were various 'tasting villaggi' spread out across this flat-footed town, come Toscana, Umbria, Veneto, ecc. Our first pitstop was for gnocchi and fresh tagliatelle, plus a whole bottiglia of vino rosso to chase away the cold. Brr, it was freakin' freddo when the wind blew hard.

We then trotted down to 'Veneto' to load up on free formaggio, birra, badges and pencils before signing up for the 7e degustazione menu of the regione's famoso polenta and risotto. Still hungry, we dug into a portion of lasagne al tartufo and free samples of cheese, cioccolato and biscotti given out at the night gourmet market. Foligno was buzzing, man. Everywhere else seemed more interesting than Perugia!

Having fun-ghi

After we got back from Milano, the weather remained chilly even at Perugia. I told L we can't complain of the cold now since we always bitched about the heat before. Meglio freddo che caldo. The week crept by and everyone was all wrapped up in their autunno/inverno vestiti except me. I just layered my cardigan over my long-sleeved Mango top over my whatever I have. At least the jeans and sneakers can come in useful now and keep me warm... untill the wind blows and freezes my skinny arse.

We did our last test of the course, and afterwards I was the most relaxed, because it unofficially marked the end of my course. Unlike others, I had chosen not to do the esame, perche 1) odio esami (I hate exams) 2) non ho bisogno il diploma o il stress (I don't need the dip or stress) 3) preferisco di partire piu presto a spendere piu tempo con L (I prefer to leave earlier and spend more time with L). On venerdi, Prof. Teresa (whom Mic and I shared a secret laugh when we noticed she actually has a moustache upclose) brought us on a field trip to visit the fabbrica di Perugina to see how the cioccolato was made. Perugia is known worldwide for their 'baci' (kisses), where inside every cioccolato, there's a message of love attached. The profumo di cacao lingered in the air as we were led from the presentation lounge to the factory and then the museo. Outside the rain continued to pour - un perfetto tempo per cioccolato e baci.

That last weekend at Perugia (si, we couldn't believe it's the last too), we coordinated a weekend getaway for us, Michele, Yuko seconda and Yuko Terza, and drove to Parma and nearby Casa Lanzarotti at BorgoTaro (which L has nicknamed Borgo di Cazzo becos it's quite tucked away). Il tempo non era male, infatti c'era sole fino a Milano dov'e' sempre grigio. Mic kept the Jap girls talking while we enjoyed the scenery during the 4-hour ride up. At Parma, everyone was excited by the buzz in the citta - the 2 Yukos wishing they had studied here instead of boring Perugia. It was hard to find a parcheggio al centro so we took a risk and parked in a slot reserved for residents (later we got a multa of 36e, che palle).

As this was my 3rd time, I knew my way around and brought them to the very packed Sorelle Picchi for a satisfying pranzo of antipasto di prosciutto, local pasta such as cappelletti and the vino du jour - the sparkling dark red Lambrusco. While L took a nap in the Ford, we strolled around and Mic bought more goodies for tonight - grappa, Lambrusco, prosciutto and formaggio. Contenti, we drove 30mins to BorgoTaro, which sets the stage for funghi harvest at this time of the year.

The scenery became familiar as we turned into the green valley among the lush montagne, alongside the pebbled stream that snaked around the terra. I immediately felt at peace and at home. Being the guida, I happily announced to the gruppo that we've arrived at Borgo Val di Cazzo (Taro). It was as I remembered, leading to Gotra and the cafe-bar-shop where I used to hike down an hour for sigarette e vino. We found Casa Lanzarotti easily and a scruffy Swiss WOOFer Paola was there to greet us as Iris was at the mercato and Gianluca was on Red Cross duty.

The fattoria seemed smaller and more battered; the cats timida Puffa and sweet Georgina, the animals and the greenhouses were still there. I proudly pointed out the caravan at the backyard where I used to sleep, the pomodori, zucchini and vegetables plots and the ripe apple trees. Ole Giacomina the horse was still there among the sheeps, albeit looking very scrawny - her ribs showing under her taut tanned leathery skin which has lost its sheen. She must be at least 80+ years in human age.

L was going crazy like a dog on heat, sniffing the baskets of warm freshly-baked bread left out in the open to cool. Pane and patata were his droga. Iris returned in time and after a round of hugs and handshakes, we sat down for a wonderful four-course cena of salume and cured zucchini, followed by her homemade local pasta sheets al pesto, stewed cinghiale (wild boar) with fagiolini and carote, and marmalade torta. Ahhhh. Mic was in his element and interrogated the 2 Yukos about their way of life, their approach to romance and marriage. Iris came in and out clearing the courses, amused at our intermediate italiano.

As I had hoped for, everyone was warm, full and extremely pleased with the agriturismo esperienza. L told me earlier by chance he had seen Yuko Terza dancing quietly with joy by herself - that to us was her conservative Japanese way of expressing her happiness. We grabbed our coats and a bottiglia di grappa and sat outside in the cold silent darkness to admire the glorious blanket of stars. It was about 4 deg C so we went in for more vino and a game of world map picture puzzle till late. I was surprised the thick woolly blanket served us well throughout the night, infatti I kicked it off at some point towards dawn as the warmth crept up.

Sticky, sweet n cold

Madonna's concerto came and went on 6 Settembre 2008. We made a huge boo-hoo with Hertz's opening hours on that sabato (it closed earlier than usual, merda!) and we had to scrabble to Roma in the treno senza our barang barang. Our orignal plan to drive up to Roma and then Napoli for the weekend was thrown out of the window as the treno moved unbearingly slow towards the Eternal City. Luckily we reached the termini, found the metro and tram to the stadio Olimpico just on time at 9.15pm and found our seats among the 60,000 screaming worshippers. The lights dimmed and the Queen of pop came on.

It was a non-stop 2-hour session of dance and music, as Madonna jiggled, strummed and muscled her way on the stage. After the concerto, we walked 4km to Roma Termini with the thousands of fans and must have tried at least 20+ hotels around the stazione ma tutti sono stati completi. Just our luck! I laid out the newspapers next to a pee-stained vandalised wall while L kept awake as bodyguard from 2am to 6am for the primo treno per Perugia. We were never so grateful to be back home, even though it was a warm cubby hole.

Anyway our wish came true. The weather turned cold with the arrival of autunno last venerdi. It began with a heavy downpour just as we got the keys to our Lancia macchina and were on our way to Bassano del Grappa up nord near the Alpini. After passing Firenze, the rain turned to hail (grandine, mamma miaaa!) and our car was pelt with loud thudding of small icy white marbles; scary lor! We stopped at an autostop before continuing to Bologna, Vicenza and Bassano where the temperature has dropped to 20 deg C. Here we were in our summer clothes, shorts and slippers, while his amico Gianni and his fidanzata Danila were all wrapped up.

After a quick cena, we took a passeggiata around the centro di Bassano and the old ponte; it felt like we were in Germania or Austria with its old pubs, Trenta-style architettura and the Alpines in the pristine montagna backdrop. What stood out here were the flat wooden window panes which probably serve well to keep out the harsh cold during l'inverno. The town was even more charming in the light the next morning as we toured the thriving market and had a quick cuppa with our kind hosts before rushing to Milano in the relentless pioggia.

We were running very late for the 1pm pranzo with Ele, Alberto and piccolo Paolo at Meda and only arrived at 3.45pm. But it was great seeing them again especially Paolo who has grown a lot and was chatty and running all over the casa. After a quick bite, Alberto drove us all to nearby Lago Lecco for a stroll and I tried to grin and bear it in my short skirt and slippers. It was brrr fu%kin cold lor.

We had a piccola festa that sera at their rustic cosy basement with Ele's amica Marta and her new ragazzo Fabio who was younger than her - like L and me. The next day we had colazione at our fav bar, which served up a great cappucino and pastries, before driving across the Swiss-Italian borders to Campione d'italia to see the casino. L was excited to be back on familiar grounds; he must miss the action the way he was caressing the roulette and blackjack tables. When we got back, we kissed our gentilissimi amici addios and headed for cold grey Milano, because L hasn't been there before and we were so close.

It was FREEZing, and I layered all the clothes I brought to weather the wind and drizzle. The piazza duomo and galleria were packed as always, even the shops. I couldn't find any purchases at Promod or Mango - all the sizes too big - I was itching to buy something, anything.

Streak freak

Time flies and it's Settembre already! I can't imagine in less than a month, I'd be back in the Lion City (2 Oct to be exact). Sorry for being MIA recently because I was busy travelling on the weekend and too lazy to write on weekdays after classes (on top of writing in my diario). But anyway I have been studying hard and fortunatamente I did well for the month-end Agosto test, yay (26\ 30 not bad lah)! Now everyone is anticipating the test and final esame at the end of Settembre.

Classes went smoothly this week as we finished the chapter on la forma passiva. But trust me, this settimana wasn't passiva. Infatti we had a little avventura just yesterday evening after Daniela's lezione. I was walking up a quiet slope with 4 jap and taiwanese classmates - all girls - when this youngish guy stopped to ask us for directions. 'Scusate dove è l'università per stranieri?' Being so nice, I was about to reply when Margherita pulled me away from him and it occurred to me he had his bermudas down to his knee and was happily jerking his cock!

I was still too stunned to react but the other girls have stepped about 10m away. For a split second, my mind contemplated a couple of options - 1) ran away with the girls 2) retaliated and screamed all the practiced italian vulgarities at him. Guess what I did? :P I regained my composure in 2sec and poi starting cursing: 'Vaffanculo!? che stronzo?!!!! è piccolissimo!!! che schifo?! vaiiiii e moririiiieeee!!! (translated into 'Fuck u! Fucker! It's very small!!! So disgusting!! Go and die!!!!')

He was still grinning with his huge pene hanging down (ok it was really grande even at a relaxed state, don't ask me how long please!) but as I started to awake from my shock, he ran past our Daniela who was just starting on the slope and disappeared around the bend. We tried to look for him in the childcare school at the corner but couldn't so we called the carabinieri to lodge a report.

Daniela, being the fierce feminist that she is, was as worked up as me - 'è un violenzaaa! she said, but at the same time we were both laughing about me screaming all the italian parolaccia, instead of all the niceties they taught us in classe. Margherita said this was already the second time he has flashed her, and later we found out another girl has also seen him. Matto pervertito!

In any case, the carabineri took a good 20mins to show up and I attempted to describe him with the help of Margh. I could recall his full get-up -- green tee with white design, greyish bermudas with 2 string cords in front, short curlyish dark hair, dark eyes, huge cock. I joked to Luigi that if need be, I'd be happy to identify him among a row of suspects because I could recognise both his heads. Hahahahaha.

As a reward, we are off to Madonna's sold-out concerto tomorrow at Roma (we got great seats!!!) and then driving to Napoli for the weekend until Monday. The weekends in Settembre - as L dreaded - are already planned in advance, no time to waste, I also say.

Road trippin'

I got a brainwave one lazy afternoon and proposed a weekend getaway by car to Toscana and San Marino to L, who was surprisingly up for it. Una buona idea, specialmente when the car costs only 95e for 2 days. We thought 'the more, the merrier', so we invited Gang and Michele, our vino kakis to join us on this roadtrip. They took the bait subito after I mentioned keywords in our itinerary like 'vino tasting' and 'sagra di bistecca (steak)'. Si, we haven't given up on our sagra chase and are determined to hunt down our meat this time. A stake or no steak.

Sabato started out great when we got upgraded from a Fiat Punto to a sporty Volvo S40 - we teased Gang that Hertz knew he was our guest so they changed it (Gang's from Beijing and an engineer with Volvo in Italia). Michele was already busy chatting with the parrucchiere next door when we arrived to pick up the car. Germans are very punctual indeed. Our nickname for Mic was sindaco (mayor) as he's the oldest among us at 56 years old and very distinguished-looking with his Bavarese full beard. We looked like a mismatched squadro; a German, a Chinese, a Sporeana and Italiano, so our make-believe roles were respectively driver (L), tour guide (me), bodyguard-cum-photographer (Gang) and sindaco VIP (Mic).

Our first stop in Toscana was at a vineyard 'La Ciarliana' (www.laciarliana.it), close to Montepulciano - a hilltop town which is known for their nobile vino. Along the way near Cortona just as I was telling the guys about 'Under The Tuscan Sun', we zipped past Frances Meyer's casa 'Bramasole' that happened to be up for sale. Allora posso comprarla ora, haha. At 10.50am, we sipped 4 diversi vini with the kindly owner - also named Luigi who gave us a tour of his facilities - and went away brilli with 4 bottiglie (I got a yummy 2001 Nobile Vino for just 15e).

We reached Montepulciano easily and toured the quaint town on foot. The colourful bandiere (flags) of the diverse contrade (clans) were already up, in time for the upcoming medievale race 'Bravio delle Botti' next Sunday, where the different team members have to roll 80-kg wine barrels (botti) around a 1.8km corso. Mamma miaaa, not an easy task considering the narrow uphill cobbled pathway. We zipped to nearby quiet Arezzo for a late pranzo at 2pm and snacked on antipasti platters with more vino rosso and cantucci dipped in the sweet golden vin santo. Piazza Grande was closed for renovation in preparation for the upcoming annual highlight 'Giostra del Saracino' (www.giostradelsaracino.arezzo.it).

Contenti and pieni, we embarked on our hunt for the sagra but took some time to locate Civitella in Val di Chiana (it's this tiny village off a discreet turn). When we got there, it was dead quiet and no burning charcoal was in the air. Errrh. An old lady pointed us to Badia al Pino 10mins away (si, it was super ulu, man) ma finalmente we saw a tent for the Sagra della Bistecca' (festival of the steak). The chefs were busy chopping up the thick cuts at 7pm and the cool evening breeze carried the greasy profumo into the packed tent where we chopped down on wonderfully charred steaks among the locals, some probably never had Asians in their fold.

We had paid 17e for the set menu of bistecca, pane, pomodoro or fagioli and frutta, and an additional 3,50e each for the vino rosso. A bit expensive, we thought for a bicchiere (glass) but to our surprise the waitress brought us 4 bottiglie, all opened already and corks thrown away, so we had to drink them all. Non c'e nesun problema. Needless to say, we were molto felici after the 2nd bottglia.

Michele tried to chat up the lady next to him being his usual kaypoh self and asked her if the salsiccia is grasso but she seemed offended by his inquiry. We whispered to him not to talk to any local married woman cos they are propably not used to stranieri asking them about sausages. A stage was set up for a band (like our getai set-up) and the old folks dressed in their best jiggled their bits happily in sync to the tune all night long.

The next morning on domenica, L found the way to San Marino (an independent state like the Vaticano). I imagined a fascinating state with ancient peaks and uniformed guards but didn't expect the hordes of tourists, cheap eatries and trashy shops. The only saving grace was the breathtaking 360 degrees panaroma, especially the vista of the Rimini coastline and the misty blu Adriatic sea.

Usually the local culinary delights will cheer me up but even the specialty of piadina, a dry insipid tortilla-like crepe, filled with cheese, ham and rucola was a letdown. Pui. Sad to say, San Marino lacked authenticity and anima (soul), just a disguised Disneyland with real towers for buon mercato merrymakers. We drove to nearby Rimini for a spot of sea breeze before heading home; it certainly felt like Gold Coast in Australia with its many hotels, restaurants, bars, and shops catering to the millions of summer holidaymakers browning themselves at the beach crowned by the various bathing establishments. L said Rimini is probably where Italians have the most sex fuelled by the caldo sole.

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!