Guessing that I would be reasonably mended for travel, Brian and I booked a long weekend to visit his friends
Ron and Arshiya who live north of Rome. With no real agenda, we enjoyed four days of playing with puppies and children, wandering the countryside, enjoying good food, and not understanding the neighbors. It was good fun.
Saturday morning, Brian and I headed for Newcastle airport. Fog hid much of the countryside and the sea as we headed south on the A1. We left civilisation (Scotland) and stopped for food for us and the car maybe 2/3 of the way there. The lady behind the counter at the cafe was less excited about customer service than her Scottish counterparts, which is tough but possible. The shuttle driver from the car park to the airport was nice but his driving reminded my back of its injuries. Newcastle Airport is in England, so not yet smoke free. Blech. It was good to get on the plane and be on our way.
We arrived to Ciampino on the south side of Rome the same day as my country's president was scheduled to be there. For whatever reason, he cancelled his trip and didn't make other arrangements for us to get a ride, so Ron, Arshiya, Shiana and Saesha met us at the airport. We headed north for their home and for Brian's all important reunion with Angelo and Tara.
Saturday afternoon began an extended, four day game of fetch the stick with the dogs. Arshiya's mother had left well more food from her restaurant than all of us could eat, so those were our dinner plans. Eventually, the boys got into the whisky. Still on painkillers, I asked Brian to be my designated drinker. Though a burden for sure, he accepted.
Shiana had her horse riding lesson with their the next morning. While she was off for that, Ron, Brian, Saesha and I wandered the garden and threw sticks for the dogs. Eventually, Shiana and her instructor came around to speak with us. My appalling French and Spanish meant I understood enough Italian words to be frustrated to not understand the context of the conversation. We wandered over to see his horses. He does more the horse whisperer kind of training and doesn't believe in using a bit.
The warmth was good. Brian seemed to be melting, but I was happy to be warm enough to not need a sweater.
We went for a stroll outside the village of Blera to see the Etruscan tombs. Dry dogs became wet dogs after they found a creek to cool off. Angelo was the avid explorer of the day. We were able to walk on some of the tombs, but Angelo climbed much higher than everyone else. We had a late lunch in a nice little restaurant in the town. They had gluten free pasta, so I was set. We spent the afternoon back at the house and then went for pizza in town. The pizza place knew everyone (but me) well and they made nice toppings for the my frozen piece of cardboard that was advertised to us as a gluten free pizza base. Everyone else's pizzas looked very nice, too. The puppies were sad to be left behind. After dinner, we visited with the neighbours of Ron and Arshiya who spoke very little English to match my guesses at Italian based on badly recalled Spanish. Mouthful? Indeed. Their puppy seemed bilingual.
Sunday, we went for another walk/lounge at some sulphur springs not far from the house. Puppies went, too. The puppies were allowed to play, too, though not in the stinkiest of the ponds, the warmer ones that people used for bathing. We played in the cold pond first, where the puppies could play, too, and Shiana demonstrated that she did not know how to swim yet. I felt guilty for being broken -- I couldn't go get her, but thankfully Ron could. We played in the stinkier, warmer sulphur springs and then Brian and I took the puppies back to the cold springs. They were sad to be excluded from the warmer ones but happy to play aquatic fetch the stick. Arshiya told Brian not to break Tara's tail again. Eventually, I took a brief dunk in the cold spring and then it was time to go.
We had just enough time to clean up before it was time to sit in traffic to the airport. Lanes schmanes seemed the Italian philosophy of driving, though thankfully Ron was well-versed. Amusingly enough, we sat in the same seats home as on the way out, evidence of this was the stick kayaker going over the waterfall that I drew in the EasyJet magazine.
Labels: holiday, Italy, travel
