Urbanissimo!

I can't believe there's only two and a half weeks to go until the wedding! Time seems to be ticking at hyperspeed at the moment, and it won't be long before 50 of you, friends and family, descend on Urbania for a weekend of vino rosso, good food and the opportunity to laugh at us baking in our own personal saunas of wedding dress and black suit.

The past few weeks have been busy- there's always something happening in the town day and night. During the summer there are lots of festivals and events, and there's certainly no such thing as a quiet Sunday stroll downtown. The past three Sundays we've watched a brass brand perform whilst eating free homemade cake given to us by two lovely nonna's (see pic!) in honour of the Festa della Madanna di Cassoni which was taking place in a little cobbled sidestreet; taken our little Peugeut along to join the very long queue of cars being blessed by the local priest for the festival of St Christopher and a visited the Chiesa dei Morti (the Church of the Dead), one of Urbania's most famous landmarks which houses several mummified bodies found in the graveyard. The soil in the graveyard contains properties that cause mummification- and some of the most 'interesting' (their term,not mine) bodies are displayed in the church. I found it all a bit creepy, especially the mummy with a crazy grin on his face, which according to the the tour guide, was due to the fact that he'd been buried alive. Nice. Matty 'Haley Joel Osmet from the 6th Sense' Mathias (Simeon- you know what I mean!) however was fascinated and stayed in there a whole extra 5 mins after I'd retreated back to the main piazza for a slightly more cheerful gelato. It's not all mummies and blessings though- there are free opera concerts, markets, street parties and slightly more bizarrely last week- a breakdancing competition, watched keenly by a piazza full of old men and women... not the audience you'd expect, but they seemed to like it nonetheless.

So, if you're looking for something to do during the days before or after the wedding- then have no fear! There's plenty to keep you entertained in Urbania. Mind you, if the weather's nice- I'm sure there'll be no need to move from a comfy seat outside one of the little bars, where with a glass of wine in hand you can spend the entire afternoon watching the non-mummified world go by.

Cer xx

Curses!!

Last night was lottery night here in Italy...well actually it's Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday but last night the rollover jackpot was a ball dropping 16 million euros which is about 105 million quid. imagine that? with that sort of dinari i could afford to buy petrol in Pont Abraham or start buying Guinness or Magners on every round, although i still would think again about parking in the middle of Cardiff.

Anyhoo we went in halves with my cousin Marcello, and lo and behold we didnt flipping win. I am always convinced when i buy a lottery ticket that i am going to win but am not bothered at all if i dont. On this occasion, even my unknockable knowledge of my upcoming victory was dented somewhat by Marcello who stated that for this lottery, so many tickets have been bought that if you put them together they would stretch from Rome to Beijing. Undeterred by this attack on my hope and some would say (i.e Cer) my naivity i handed over our money and asked him to let us go in with him.

Marci is half Welsh and half Italian, a great cook who sleeps about 3 hours a night, he is the man with the business brain, he also has hands like shovels-like a block of meat with 5 big sausages protruding out. Sometimes i look in awe and some pity as he tries to type a number on his phone. Pete Dev reckons i have fat hands, it must be a family thing. Anyhoo, I digress... So we didn't win; and before i sat down to type this i bought a fizzy water instead of buying the Scarlets, a mansion in Pembrokeshire, a debenture in the Millenium Stadium or the entire DVD back catalogue of the Gilmore Girls, BattleStar Gallactica and the Thundercats (actually if we had won, i would be sat here typing this in a Boba Fett outfit drinking posh red pop) Ah well, c'est la vie, there is always Thursday.
Ferg

Italians - people of the night........

Its Ferg here again and for starters let me get this straight, i don't think that Italians are vampires or skimpily clad pagans dancing around neolithic chambers in honour of the great horned God Cerrunos. The reason for the title of this particular blog is that i am fascinated and a bit jealous that most Italians live their day up until about 2 o clock in morning.

For me its always been different, ever since my glorious Mamma let me stay up til an eye popping 10 o clock so i could watch the Equaliser, i have been a bit of an early bird when it comes to beddy bo boes. unless i am paraletic drunk, if i am up past 1030 i start slurring, i cant stand up properly and i get crotchety.....which is actually exactly how i am when i am paraletic drunk......

Anyway back to those amazing Italians. Its great here, most shops are open until half past seven or eight o clock but as soon as it gets dark the piazza (the square) in the centre of the town is chock full of people of every age, kids mix with the elderly, adults sit and enjoy a lovely warm evening while their kids can enjoy themselves without worry (other than from Italians drivers....they're still around trying to pick off people, the bastards)while teenagers, in gangs, just enjoy the evening. Honestly its 11 o clock at night and the whole town is in the centre, talking (shouting) laughing (in a shouty way) and just having a fantastic time, sometimes there are bands but if not there always is a lovely, entertaining and safe atmosphere. The pace of life is fantastic, they work hard but as soon as half past twelve in the afternoon comes along...bang...thats it, everywhere except a few cafes are closed, they dont re-open until about half past four.

To me it shows that their time is important and they put that above the making of money. I know its bloody boiling at that time but i think its because they want to enjoy their lunch at a nice pace which is completely different to how they take breakfast which is something akin to feeding time at the crocodile pit.

There is a lot i will miss about Italy when we get back to Wales, the fresh smell of tomatoes in the supermarket, raw meat, low level sexism with no awareness that it is sexism, eating with my hands (although Cerith has put her foot down with the soup course) but i think most of all I will miss our nightly walks to the piazza, the warmness of the night and the people and the noise of a community happy with each others company.