Giostra dell'Archidado

Last night was the first night of the Joust of the Archidado, a 10 day celebration including theatrical displays and crossbow shooting pitting one neighborhood against another. Unbeknownst to me there were opening festivities last night, beginning at about 9:45 PM, past my bedtime. Lots of drums and trumpeting, clapping and wild cheering. Had I not taken off my makeup and clothing I’d have hoofed it to the piazza to see what all the excitement was. The music seemed to emanate from behind the house this time, so it must have been centered at Piazza Signorelli, rather than Pizza della Repubblica. I am really am in a great location! All the hoopla went on until after 11:30 and then rowdy young men sang noisily until past 1:00…and I am pretty sure I heard the sound of a kazoo...or perhaps it was a duck call.

I am a bit tired today, but got up at 8:00 and dragged my sorry self to the café where I was too tired to even follow my normal protocol of reading a book as I linger over a caffé latte. I did exchange smiles with the waiter and also I saw Maria’s English friend there, the man who came to dinner on the infamous night of “The Two Dinners”. We chatted for a bit and he asked after Maria, who is currently visiting her family near Naples. He mentioned he’d back in several weeks and perhaps we could all meet for coffee one afternoon.

Its market day today and I stopped for a porchetta sandwich. It really turns me off that this particular vendor leaves the roasted, decapitated pig’s head on the top of the counter for inspection, but he had a fresh-looking porchetta. When I returned home and inspected the sandwich, I found a chicken feather stuck to the meat. Ick! A little more digging uncovered a mass of hairy filaments of undetermined origin. I debated whether to take a preventative antibiotic and eat the thing or whether to err on the safe side and pitch the sandwich, which is what I eventually did. Tomorrow I will seek out the other man who sets up outside the city walls as his porchetta looked nice and crispy brown, with no evidence of errant barnyard fowl.

I also needed to stop at the little grocery for toilet paper, which is inconveniently located on the top shelf across from the register. I am shy about 10 inches from reaching the rolls at the top and I am not inclined to ask the busy man at the register to get some toilet paper down for me, not that I even know the word for “toilet paper”. The tiny place is always jam-packed and the workers are always swamped. I was lucky today and found some of my second favorite brand, the Foxy Mega Roll 4-pack right on the floor where even I could reach them. What divine intervention!! I bought two because I just don’t know when I will be that fortunate again. I can get pretty excited about toilet paper.

This morning seemed an opportune moment to tackle my latest fitness goal so, ignoring the screaming muscles in my calves, I dragged myself up a hill on a road shadowing the ancient city walls. Once I’d turned the corner at the top of the hill though, I discovered I was actually only about halfway to the top. Unbeknownst to me I was walking the twelve Stations of the Cross which culminate at La Chiesa di Santa Margherita. The stations are mosaics lovingly created from tiny squares of multi- colored glass interspersed here and there with gold tiles which shone like stars in the brilliant sunlight. I had to stop and rest twice on some handy stone benches on the second section of the hill, but I achieved the summit! Unfortunately, La Chiesa was not open and I swallowed my disappointment as I had hoped to pray and meditate with La Santa after my monumental climb. My knees held up well on the steep descent, but one foot started acting up. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another!

I stopped for pasta with Bolognese sauce at the Bar 500 owned by a friendly Italian woman and her English husband. I sat at a table in an open doorway so I could watch people strolling along via Nazionale, chatting and shopping. People watching can be so interesting! One passing stroller contained little boy about 12 months old who was holding a metal kitchen whisk straight out in front of the stroller like a weapon…just in case he encountered anyone who needed a “beating”. After lunch I trotted back to the house, sharing a friendly wave with The Beautiful One from the gallery who was enjoying lunch at an outside table in Piazza Signorelli.

I am spending a phenomenal amount of money on books here. First of all, a paperback is roughly $17 and I am a voracious reader. Watching TV is just not a satisfying entertainment option and I spend relatively little eating out, so I will just consider it a living expense. On the way back from the bookstore, I heard the steady thump of drums in Piazza della Repubblica. When I arrived there were about 8 drummers and another 8 flag throwers in brightly colored tunics and tights, performing some maneuvers in the piazza. Fortunately, not much of a crowd had gathered so I had a great view and took a few pictures to share. As before, the flag throwers, each holding two flags, circled the piazza in some complicated formations, then they each peeled away from the formation and handed one flag to a man standing to the left. Each flag thrower then took a turn lofting their remaining flags high into the air, and this time several made it over the third story electrical wire! One unfortunate young woman dropped her flag, nearly taking out a boy dressed neatly in a uniform like a blue boy scout in the first row. Remind me never to sit in the front row…it can be hazardous!