Across a Wire...

Across a Wire....

The outside light, which is the home of an old crow, hasn't worked for ages so the first job of the morning was to take it down and find out why. On inspection, it revealed that the crow was indeed dead, deceased, no longer with us, devoid of life, insentient, departed from this world, passed on etc etc....and the light fitting was not much better!

Off we trolleyed in the pickup into our nearest town, Camucia.

We have got to know Camucia quite well now so it wasn't a problem finding some new fittings in the little electrical shop to make the repair. Being a Thursday we also knew from past experience that Thursday in Camucia was market day and market day meant it was Porchetta day! 

The porchetta man gets through two whole pigs in a morning and sells the speciality cooked meat sliced directly off the pig on the stall, it has been seasoned with garlic, rosemary, fennel and olives and packed into a bun and tastes Buonissimo!

Returning back to finish the light it was then about time the bonfire got started.

 

Cleverly, I've got a double whammy here, the title, 'Across a Wire' for the the light wiring job and the artist being the 'Counting Crows'..... pass the Prosecco!

Can U Dig It....

The sun came out again today, and it came streaming through the window as soon as the shutters opened in the morning.

Shorts donned and coffee consumed and we poured out into the garden to see what the day's activities would inspire us. The iris beds up the sides of the drive had become heavily overgrown and choked so we set about digging them out....Jeez, 3 hours later we had only done a few feet so after lunch we needed a new plan. Out came the Briggs & Stratton rotavator to speed up the work. By the end of the afternoon we had done the lot. 

There is about 15 acres with the property, lots of terraces and lawns and the upkeep to keep it looking well is immense. The good thing for us is that all the work is outside in the sunshine so it doesn't really feel like it's a chore, in fact it's not a chore at all...it's therapeutic and an enjoyable way to spend the days.

By teatime its become chilly, so it's inside the farmhouse where the fires have been burning away all day to make it a cosy place to retire to as another evening feast is prepared for us all to enjoy.

It's not a bad life here in Italy.

'Can u Dig It?' By the Mock Turtles in 1991 but might have been a PWEI original, I'm not sure so you will have to look it up if your that bothered....I like this version anyhow!

The first cut is the deepest...

La Cesa

There's always plenty to do at La Cesa. 

http://www.lacesa-tuscany.co.uk/

It's a fourteenth century converted farmhouse situated in the south of Tuscany just below the medieval hilltop town of Cortona which will no doubt get covered later in the week. It's a sanctuary we will call home for a few days while we lend a hand in the gardens and explore the surrounding rural area.

It's also a holiday let so jobs need to done to get the place looking its best following the devastation caused by the windy winter months.

Tree surgery, stump grinding, trimming, cutting, pruning, rotavating and anything remotely agricultural goes around here. 

Today the Wisteria that covers the house, pergola and pool had a serious haircut and we get to add a few foot to the already massive bonfire that we aim to have later in the week.

It's time now for that glass of wine at the kitchen table.

Today's track came to mind while hacking down the huge amount of old growth....The first cut is the deepest' and you can either have Rod Stewart or PP Arnold, both great versions.

Sun in the Morning...

Pisa. 

Famed almost entirely for its under-average sized cock-eyed Tower mobbed every hour by hoards of visiting tourists wrapped in puffy jackets, clutching maps and slices of pizza buying plastic replicas of the erection and tea-towel souvenirs from tacky street stalls. Here you also have to be very wary of getting a poke in the eye from a misguided selfy stick in the vicinity of the basilica!

Seen it, done it, bought the tea-towel so we don't now bother with that end of town anymore...

The airport is very handy for the centre of Pisa. Our chosen method of travel to get there is generally best experienced standing, pressed up against the windscreen, on an eight minute white knuckle ride on the local 'PisMover'; a hilariously named mode of transport that always brings a childish smirk when one sees the name on the front of the bus.

From here, only a few streets away lies Alessandro Della Spina, a small Italian hotel to allow us to have a night out around some of our favourite bars. The best ones that cater for the locals and have an endless supply of small plates of food that are 'gratis' if you are having a glass or two while you chat smugly about the rugby result!

The morning train towards Rome as usual was modern, spotlessly clean and left at exactly 11.12 on the dot, just as the ticket said it would! With the morning sun now shining we take our seats on the upper deck and will change at Santa Maria Novello station in Florence and continue on as far as Cortona-Terontola near to the Tuscan-Perugia border.

To the left the Tuscan hills rise up to show the snow capped peaks in the distance, full green rivers flow past near to the train line as we scoot along past vineyards and arable fields of last years sunflowers.

From here there seems to be a small holder culture where everyone seems to be tending to gardens, goats and growing vegetables in rows, each with a few hens free-ranging around the place.

Today's track is inspired by the mornings weather so you get 'Sun in the morning' by Future Islands.

Help the Aged...

It would appear that previous trips that have not attracted any blogging have given rise to a proportion of criticism from what I can only describe here as sad individuals with very little going on upstairs...oh well, you know who you are and I intend to make amends with some literal ramblings throughout the latest trip while returning to Italy.

The half hour delay leaving John Lennon gave enough time to peruse through the in-flight magazines and Sunday supplements inspiring and tempting me to buy a plethora of desirable items, never previously considered, but now, by clever marketing jargon and in a relaxed state from the airport bar I can't help but find them totally irresistible. 

How could I not want a half price pair of Ultimate crease and water resistant fabric pleated slacks in French navy with a complimentary slip on apron trim shoe with elastic inserts for easy foot entry?...both claiming total maximum comfort and support for the regular wearer. Or A limited lifetime of Pet Insurance with the Co-op?

Maybe a regenerating 3 point age defeating cream that can penetrate deep into your palid sagging skin while your asleep or try a handy bottle of Phyto-coffee shampoo that not only reduces the effects of hormonal fluctuations during the menopause but by washing your hair with it, you amazingly find that it is formulated to decline the negative impact of ones testosterone surges....if I'd only knew this stuff earlier? 

Oooh more....let me fill out this coupon for immediate next day delivery, a limited edition book on hand crafting 275 varieties of Finnish pancakes while at the same time expressing and relieving your deepest grief for a lost relative, or could I really resist an offer of a front row ticket to spend an evening with Michael Ball and Alfie Bass at the London Palladium next summer...(like he's still going to be alive!)

Jesus, who orders this crap? 

At what age is this stuff actually considered as 'normal'?

I think I will buy a scratch card instead so I can win 68 million euros and retire to the sun and sit in a deckchair with a hanky on my head with a glass of stout bemoaning the fall of the British empire following a hard Brexit to anyone that passes by....

I hope the sun is out in Italy?

I like a bit to warm the old bones!

First track to kick off this blog will be ' Help the Aged', by Pulp.

We can no longer cheat you...

Well, unfortunately it was all a dream!

The reality was that the airline cancelled the flight to Bergerac at the eleventh hour and we were unable to find an alternative. Not to be outdone, we luckily had a comfortable Narrowboat standing by set sail up the Lancaster Canal the next day and had an alternatively adventurous time heading up to up to Tewitfield and returning via Glasson Dock. The weather and the food was much the same as it would have been in France but there were less French folk, so our trip to the Dordogne will have to wait for another time in the future.

Until the next time...

Last track by 'The Cribs'...and apt song to end on!

Pressure Drop...

The mornings wine tasting at the local Chateaux hosted by Bridget Bardot was a fancy affair, a cauliflower foamed Meuse beuch  on arrival then straight in to Canapés and vol au vents in between tastings of sparkling aperitifs.

Before we knew it we started to feel a little tipsy and foolishly signed up for an afternoon of extreme sports being held in the local area. We chose the combo package of Parkour and Fly Boarding. 

The Parkour started well with both of us donning special pumps and managing to run up a couple of the smaller office blocks and even managed a couple of back flips off the window ledge before moving on to sliding gracefully over the roof of a parked Citroen Picasso.

Later, at the beach for our exciting session of Fly Boarding didn't go just so well!

The pressure in the hose was set far too high for us beginners and even with the instructor attached we both shot skyward, but in different directions and started to spin around uncontrollably about 20ft above the ocean, screaming and flailing about until Pierre turned the damn thing off and we all plummeted back into the sea....Never again!

Today's track is by Toots and the Maytals.