And that was the recurring theme of this New Year’s Eve Party – not only because it kept popping up everywhere, but also because it ended up being totally impossible to digest…
From a shrivelled sausage, to club sandwiches and a cheese flap – “ma che cazzo?!” Jo did an excellent job at being the only Brit floating in a sea of Italians.
Federico and Federica decorated, cooked, salsaed and collapsed on the armchair.
Daniela made everyone believe she was foreign until they figured out her accent was from Italy.
Marinella tamed the boys at the end of the table – Fabrizio, Daniele, Davide and Iuri whilst Valentina pounced on Francesco.
Following genuine Chi Gong techniques, I spent some of my time hugging imaginary trees – and there is something to say about it too – and most of my time cackling like a mad hen.
Cristian who had probably felt like nobbling me for the most part of December as I fretted and moaned about the Italian way of doing things had a jolly time keeping everyone happy.
Ha, see, so the tunaed baby cow stayed with us, and today, the 2nd, the car still honks of it – badly.
Here are some pictures of what turned out to be a very fun night, first in the birthplace of Pietro da Cortona and then down in the main piazza!
The beginning of the party, when we could all just balance on the arm of the sofa.
Iuri the swallow and Davide the conductor.
What posers...
Lighting the night on fire.
On the main piazza!
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