End of an era...
Ciao tutti!
So, I'm back in Italy, and it's as cold as a German's heart!
I got back here on Monday and kicked about for a day or two before heading oop North to Alba to teach for three days. To be honest, I wasn't mad keen to do this, but at the end of the day the fat lady sings, and for me the fat lady sings a song of sixpence, i.e. I need the cash. I'm looking to move out of my flat at the end of the month, so like a squirrel in Autumn, I need to gather as much money as possible and bury it in various holes in my local park. I went to see a potential new flat at the weekend. The flat itself was amazing, and pretty swish, however, and this is pretty crucial, I'd be sharing with a girl and the room was very small. In fact, after our two beds were in there, there was barely room to swing a Chihuahua, never mind a cat! Back to the drawing board...
Being back in Scotland was a mixed bag, to be honest. It was nice to see everyone, but I got a bit bored. It was pointed out to me that I was maybe being unreasonable, but I was a little disappointed to see that nothing had changed. I'd grown tired of the rude people here in Italy, and was looking forward to getting back to the old country. However, the reality blew through me like so much cold wind in the bus stop immediately after I'd got off the bus from the airport. Some ned was talking to his burd in quite an uncouth manner, and not the style that a befits a young squire with his lady. Then Dougie, Jimmy and I went to the cinema to see The Spirit (not great, or even good) and some wee scrotes were wrestling each other in the foyer and generally being nuisances. Although this may sound like I'm becoming more cantankerous than before, the kids in Scotland seem quite feral compared to their (albeit bizarrely dressed and coiffured) Italian brothers and sisters. Catching up with everyone was good, but coming back to Italy began to appeal more and more as the days wore on. This is strange, as coming back to Italy equates to coming back to work, which is not something I generally savour. Maybe I'm maturing? A truly terrifying thought!
Alba is north of Genoa, in the general vicinity of Turin. It was extremely snowy, which was quite irritating considering I'd been hoping to snowboard in Scotland but had been foiled at each turn by the total lack of Scottish snow. Molto frustrante!!! In two days of steady snow there was about 6 inches, which was very picturesque, if a little bracing. One morning while enjoying the fresh air outside our guest house I watched our land lady busily shovelling snow from the driveway. She must have been about 65, but had the energy of 10 me's. While I was standing there, I felt a wee bit guilty that I didn't offer to help, but she seemed to be getting quite into it, so I decided not to step on her toes when she was obviously in her element. Ever the gentleman!
We went out for a few meals when we were in Alba, and surprisingly the receipt's showed both the cost in Euro's and also Lire. So, our 42 Euro meal would have cost in the region of 82,000 lire (almost as much as it would cost in Britain)! Alba is in the heart of truffle country, but as the course was just before payday and 'tartufi' (truffles) are 'molto caro' (very expensive), truffle's were replaced on the agenda by cheap pizza.
In the train station in Alessandria on the way back, there were loads of jakey-types. This was surprising, as Alessandria seems like quite a small place. In marked contrast to these walking dead there was a battalion of Mormon's out trying to convert people round to their polygamous way of thinking. I don't mind talking to people, so when one of them approached me I was happy to exchange small talk, but I wasn't interested in his Jesus chat. Oddly, he asked if I'd heard of him. I don't know how many people say no, but I guess at least one person has, otherwise he wouldn't play it safe and use that as one of his opening lines. However, I can't help but think that of all the countries in the world that you might try to gain new followers for your religion, super-Catholic Italy would be one of the hardest. When you pay tax, you can even opt for some of your money to go to the Vatican! I think the Church of the Latter Day Saints were wasting their time on these heathens.
On the work tip, I'm being thrown straight back into the deep end this coming week with a man-sized 29 hours of teaching. It'll be nice to see my padewans again, but I'm afraid that despite my promise of bringing back Scottish treats (haggis and Christmas crackers), I've failed on both scores. I thought that taking crackers containing gunpowder through an airport, even if it was in miniscule measures, might be asking for trouble so opted not to run that gauntlet. I did buy some haggi (plural of haggis?) in Edinburgh airport, but succumbed to their siren call shortly afterwards, and stuffed my face with them. Oops. I'll try and remedy this in the near future.....
I've been studying Italian quite a lot since I got back, which is quite satisfying. Hopefully my new flat will be full of young Italian ladies who frolic and other such things, so learning Italian is pretty important. Teaching has helped me in this sense, as all of my students generally make similar mistakes as they translate straight from Italian to English. Once I stop guffawing at the sheer preposterousness of their sentences, I take note of the word order and choice they use, so now I'm getting a better idea of what words to use, and in what order to use them, when I'm conversing in Italian. Like some kind of weird 'Total Recall'-esque deformity, Italy is starting to grow on me, and I'm beginning to cast my addled mind towards the future. I'm starting to think that staying here for another year might be a giggle, and it'll help me learn the language too. However, I barely know what I'm doing from moment to moment, so maybe planning 6 months in advance is asking too much. I guess as the song says: "Che sera sera, whatever will be will be, we're going to Wembulee".
And now for the reason behind today's heading. Stevie left today to start his job in Rome, which is pretty sad to be honest. His presence has proved useful many a time, and I'm now bereft of my main drinking buddy. We went out last night (and the night before) for a few beers, but nothing too wild. Hopefully my new flat, wherever it may be, will include someone who likes a drink too!
Until next time chaps and chapesses,
I bid you adieu.
So, I'm back in Italy, and it's as cold as a German's heart!
I got back here on Monday and kicked about for a day or two before heading oop North to Alba to teach for three days. To be honest, I wasn't mad keen to do this, but at the end of the day the fat lady sings, and for me the fat lady sings a song of sixpence, i.e. I need the cash. I'm looking to move out of my flat at the end of the month, so like a squirrel in Autumn, I need to gather as much money as possible and bury it in various holes in my local park. I went to see a potential new flat at the weekend. The flat itself was amazing, and pretty swish, however, and this is pretty crucial, I'd be sharing with a girl and the room was very small. In fact, after our two beds were in there, there was barely room to swing a Chihuahua, never mind a cat! Back to the drawing board...
Being back in Scotland was a mixed bag, to be honest. It was nice to see everyone, but I got a bit bored. It was pointed out to me that I was maybe being unreasonable, but I was a little disappointed to see that nothing had changed. I'd grown tired of the rude people here in Italy, and was looking forward to getting back to the old country. However, the reality blew through me like so much cold wind in the bus stop immediately after I'd got off the bus from the airport. Some ned was talking to his burd in quite an uncouth manner, and not the style that a befits a young squire with his lady. Then Dougie, Jimmy and I went to the cinema to see The Spirit (not great, or even good) and some wee scrotes were wrestling each other in the foyer and generally being nuisances. Although this may sound like I'm becoming more cantankerous than before, the kids in Scotland seem quite feral compared to their (albeit bizarrely dressed and coiffured) Italian brothers and sisters. Catching up with everyone was good, but coming back to Italy began to appeal more and more as the days wore on. This is strange, as coming back to Italy equates to coming back to work, which is not something I generally savour. Maybe I'm maturing? A truly terrifying thought!
Alba is north of Genoa, in the general vicinity of Turin. It was extremely snowy, which was quite irritating considering I'd been hoping to snowboard in Scotland but had been foiled at each turn by the total lack of Scottish snow. Molto frustrante!!! In two days of steady snow there was about 6 inches, which was very picturesque, if a little bracing. One morning while enjoying the fresh air outside our guest house I watched our land lady busily shovelling snow from the driveway. She must have been about 65, but had the energy of 10 me's. While I was standing there, I felt a wee bit guilty that I didn't offer to help, but she seemed to be getting quite into it, so I decided not to step on her toes when she was obviously in her element. Ever the gentleman!
We went out for a few meals when we were in Alba, and surprisingly the receipt's showed both the cost in Euro's and also Lire. So, our 42 Euro meal would have cost in the region of 82,000 lire (almost as much as it would cost in Britain)! Alba is in the heart of truffle country, but as the course was just before payday and 'tartufi' (truffles) are 'molto caro' (very expensive), truffle's were replaced on the agenda by cheap pizza.
In the train station in Alessandria on the way back, there were loads of jakey-types. This was surprising, as Alessandria seems like quite a small place. In marked contrast to these walking dead there was a battalion of Mormon's out trying to convert people round to their polygamous way of thinking. I don't mind talking to people, so when one of them approached me I was happy to exchange small talk, but I wasn't interested in his Jesus chat. Oddly, he asked if I'd heard of him. I don't know how many people say no, but I guess at least one person has, otherwise he wouldn't play it safe and use that as one of his opening lines. However, I can't help but think that of all the countries in the world that you might try to gain new followers for your religion, super-Catholic Italy would be one of the hardest. When you pay tax, you can even opt for some of your money to go to the Vatican! I think the Church of the Latter Day Saints were wasting their time on these heathens.
On the work tip, I'm being thrown straight back into the deep end this coming week with a man-sized 29 hours of teaching. It'll be nice to see my padewans again, but I'm afraid that despite my promise of bringing back Scottish treats (haggis and Christmas crackers), I've failed on both scores. I thought that taking crackers containing gunpowder through an airport, even if it was in miniscule measures, might be asking for trouble so opted not to run that gauntlet. I did buy some haggi (plural of haggis?) in Edinburgh airport, but succumbed to their siren call shortly afterwards, and stuffed my face with them. Oops. I'll try and remedy this in the near future.....
I've been studying Italian quite a lot since I got back, which is quite satisfying. Hopefully my new flat will be full of young Italian ladies who frolic and other such things, so learning Italian is pretty important. Teaching has helped me in this sense, as all of my students generally make similar mistakes as they translate straight from Italian to English. Once I stop guffawing at the sheer preposterousness of their sentences, I take note of the word order and choice they use, so now I'm getting a better idea of what words to use, and in what order to use them, when I'm conversing in Italian. Like some kind of weird 'Total Recall'-esque deformity, Italy is starting to grow on me, and I'm beginning to cast my addled mind towards the future. I'm starting to think that staying here for another year might be a giggle, and it'll help me learn the language too. However, I barely know what I'm doing from moment to moment, so maybe planning 6 months in advance is asking too much. I guess as the song says: "Che sera sera, whatever will be will be, we're going to Wembulee".
And now for the reason behind today's heading. Stevie left today to start his job in Rome, which is pretty sad to be honest. His presence has proved useful many a time, and I'm now bereft of my main drinking buddy. We went out last night (and the night before) for a few beers, but nothing too wild. Hopefully my new flat, wherever it may be, will include someone who likes a drink too!
Until next time chaps and chapesses,
I bid you adieu.
posted by michael | 03:07
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