You would be a fool to miss it

I had planned this evening’s meal as soon as I had seen the Club House earlier in our stay. It was to be a look forward to a grand event of drinks followed by good food. I had not underestimated the impact that our visit would have, and to be quite honest with you, I was expecting a much larger bill. This is the sense of expense that the Club House projects, when in fact it is quite affordable.

We sat down in the bar and I enjoyed a few pints of Italian lager beer. I also enjoyed the eye candy. An Angelina-Jolie look alike, that was more beautiful than the actress. Wonderful, even my wife commented on her beauty. She also rustled up a good Cosmopolitan Cocktail as well. ‘Angelina’ that is, and not the wife. We shared crisps and I noticed that Pauline’s eyes were beginning to roll. It had been eleven hours since breakfast and Pauline never drinks. And here she was with a 7 Euro 50 Cent cocktail of mixed alcohol. Shaken with ice to cool, but poured from the container without the ice into a cool glass.

It was time to eat, and we were met at the table by two lovely waitresses, and a hot plate of caviccini. Yummy, just what we needed to get started. We have eaten a lot of pasta and pizza the last two weeks, and it was good to choose a Cheeseburger. Not any old Cheeseburger mind you. No, this was the Emperor of Cheeseburgers; ‘el ultimato’ (my name and not theirs). You can tell that the bread was made on the premises, and that the meat was fresh and local. You knew it was going to be good, when they asked you how you would like it to be cooked. I said medium, and it was. I can declare with all honesty that the Club-House Cheeseburger is the best burger that I have ever eaten.

I can also declare that their cheesecake is equal to the astonishing cheesecake that we sampled in a small village outside Siena in 2007. I can also declare that when the Club-house brought us a glass each of the local ‘fire-water’ to finish our meal, they had equalled the hospitality of the family run restaurant that we stumbled across in Milano in 2007. It goes without saying that I left the largest tip that we have left this holiday.

We also took some photographs. The Waitress insisted on taking a photograph of us. That was a nice touch and greatly appreciated. The good looking young man wanted a photograph with Pauline. He looked at me and announced in front of the two waitresses “You are jealous, no?” I replied, “Yes, I am, you are so handsome that I wanted my photograph with you!” It brought about laughter from the waitresses, and fair play to the waiter he complied in good spirit. What lovely people, in a city that is after your coin, the Club-House near the dome on the Railway Station side of the city, brings a better dimension to affairs. Miss it at your peril.

An Assumption

Why is there an assumption between equals whereby one may receive more than the other without any dialogue? This morning there were no boiled eggs on display and when I asked the waitress, she brought three to the table. Why was it that I was able to consume two of these eggs? We both commented on their freshness, and fine colour. They were eggs of quality and my wife probably would have enjoyed eating two of them as well.

My wife has the vote and in a democratic society can elect or reject a candidate. She works, which is more than can be said of me these days. She can certainly eat as much as me and enjoys her food on equal terms. So why was I allowed to eat two of the eggs, especially when she consumed her first one long before I started as I choose to butter bread and order some coffee. Is a figuration between husband and wife whereby for no obvious reason or purpose, a hierarchy is established?

Or, is it simply that this morning, Pauline only wanted one boiled egg?

Italian Driving Tips

For someone, who is unable to drive in Italy at the moment, here are a few tips for those of you who have a car that works, or are using public transport:


You can only be a bus driver if you have a mobile phone surgically joined to your hand

At junctions, the big bus has right of way at all times

Zebra crossings are where you might hit people

It is obligatory to drive at night without lights

It is safe to smoke with one hand and be on the mobile phone with the other hand when riding a bike

In Wales we have boy racers in Kiddy Cars, in Italy there are Scooties who are a menace to everyone

The bus driver does not have to let you onto the bus

The bus driver does not have to let you off the bus

If the bus driver does let you on, then say ‘thank you’

If you can stand, give up your seat to the blonde lady

If a Nun comes onto the bus, everyone get up

If a car stops at the Zebra crossing, look surprised

Friendly people

Pauline’s best friend is from Birmingham. She is a lovely lady, without a bad bone in her body. Well they both are, Pauline and her friend.

Whenever I check the blog, Google Analytics always tells me that the most visitors are from Birmingham. It’s a great city, full of great people. And there we were today, in Fiesole at the archaeological site and we started talking to a lovely young couple. We were talking to a curator from London and the couple started talking as well.

They now know that ‘the Beast’ is in the garage and we know that they flew into Rome and took a train to Firenze before taking a train to Bologna. Yes, the best people are from Birmingham, oh and Ghana, and Wales.

Is she, isn’t she?

As we sat in the square in Fiesole whiling away the time, Pauline mentioned that she had seen someone earlier in the afternoon. I was surprised to hear the information and asked what she was wearing. “A skirt and a pink polo top” replied Pauline. Well, I was certain that Pauline was wrong, but you never know.

A while later a lady fitting the description approached from across the square. “Is that her?” I asked. “Yes”, came the reply, “I am certain that is...”. I had made up my mind to ask and rose from the bench. “You won’t?” said Pauline, “Yes, I will” I replied.

“Excuse me", I said as I moved to meet the lady, "do you speak English?” “Yes, I do,” the lady replied. My retort was automatic “Are you Virginia Wade?”

“Yes, I am”.

Brilliant, the British all time Ladies Number 1 tennis player was in Fiesole. I was so pleased that our car had broken down. Well those that read the blog know that I am a fatalist. Everything happens for a reason. Virginia Wade had just bumped into her Number 1 and her Number 2 fans and had no idea then, and probably still doesn't know. What a lovely lady, she agreed to a photo with Pauline.

But I was a tad disappointed, as I had not asked her to pose with me. We were so excited as she moved on, Britain’s number one had given us the time of day.