JAMBON DE BOEUF

Somewhere in between a violet-bodied yellow-footed mini-iguana and a bright yellow bird, I realised that I had made it all the way from Perugia to Dakar (with Alitalia - miracle??). Pausing only at Senegal's airport at 2 am local time to ponder going to Club Med rather than to the COP-3 POPS (ok, Third Conference of the Parties to the Stockholm Convention on Persitent Organic Pollutants).

After the dry pain au chocolat and soft baguette (tears), Melanie and I decided to take a walk down to the sea front, getting our arms grabbed and bums commented on by the locals.

Since, we have had a variety of team lunches - mostly at 4 pm - and a dinner last night looking over the seafront (lots of concrete buildings, half finished, mostly falling into the water, a bit like Calabria ;-). After overdosing on fish, I decided to try the Jambon de Boeuf - muslim country, so maybe it was not pork, but it certainly was not beef, so what on earth was it?!

Still alive, I am now very eager to get my teeth into this conference. We will be operating from a booth that takes a compass and scout skills to get to, and overlooks the conference hall. The office, on the other hand, is in the basement, several lift rides and flights of stairs up and down!

If you are lucky, you will get more updates from here. If not, I will bore you when I get back!!


Along the main road between our hotel (La Detente) and the conference venue (Le Meridien)


Trying Castel and La Gazelle beer (quality vs quantity)

HAPPY EARTH DAY!

http://www.earthday.net/

EXPLOSION OF COLOUR

BEFORE & AFTER ... and much more

So I located the chocolate.

So I went beserk.

So I am now full of spots.

So that should not hurt!


Before and after being in the sun (yep, ate the melted one too!!)


Before and after being eaten by wolves.


We trekked like crazy to contain calorie storage induced by chocolate. But little did we know that the elements would be out against us en force and that we would get dramatically lost every single time we left the hotel...

On the first day, in Norcia, we could not even manage to locate the tourist information centre or the Casa del Parco - the main national parks office. It had been moved and not even the Police knew where to send us.

When we found a board indicated a loop walk around town, we decided to go for it, believing (foolishly) that there would be signs all the way.

By the third junction, and still on the main road, we decided to do it the Italian way and get back in the car and go for a drive...


Viva il Terremoto. Totally redone and lovely too. Cresci was our first stop. Then we went on to Presci and visited a few other nice little villages. The Monte Sibillini National Park is full of roads but has great views and stunning landscapes.

On day two, we go so totally lost that we ended up having to scramble up some woody mountain in an attempt to find Pian Grande (which, as its name indicates, is supposed to be pretty big...)


Singing in the rain over Pian Grande.



VERGOGNA.

This is the Casa del Parco of Castelluccio di Norcia, one of the places people drive from miles to visit. The main parks office is basically a pile of rubbish. I am ashamed. National Parks should represent the best spots of a country...


After being hailstoned on the previous day, we decided to take the morning easy before going on another trek, so we visited Santa Rita of Cascia. An experience...


Brilliantly modern.

Then we went on another long hike which was supposed to take us on a loop round a mountain. We got to the top, enjoyed fantastic views, then tried to find our way round. We climbed and climbed and climbed. By 16.30, totally lost and completely sodden, we had to turn back and dash down the way we came, before dark.


Looking at map somewhere up some mountain.

Getting lost and wet enforced the feeling of being out of this world for 4 days. Rushes of adrenaline, smiles and endorphines all contributed to a great mini-break!

Now back in Cortona, Spring is here with its swallows and flowers.

VENERDI SANTO

Just before we all hit the streets in our kkk outfits to celebrate Easter, I wanted to post this picture of me, posing as the fierce estate agent. It was taken yesterday at the top of some hill in the heart of Umbria.

You will be pleased to know that my sense of direction is getting somewhat better and that I should therefore not have too much trouble locating chocolate over the weekend.

Enjoy the break!


"special price, special price, just a little problem with the internal structure of the house, but nothing worrying."

TORN BETWEEN

I am unsure if I should punch or bite the next door neighbour. Ok, she is related to the owner of the block and I should therefore tread carefully. On the other hand, she is amongst the most ignorant people I have ever met.

A few months back, she kicked the girl next door out as she wanted to keep the flat free for her occasional visits. Before her first visit, the daughter who lives downstairs took several days off work to clean the flat, have it painted, buy new beds and so on and so forth. I thought it was a bit over the top, but when the bell rang on the first night her mother arrived, I realised I was bitterly wrong.

As I opened the door, she stood there yelling that she could not tolerate the sight of my shoe rack in the corridor, who did I think I was to keep them out there, etc, etc, etc.

Calmly, I extended my arm and shook her hand, politely introducing myself and enquiring who she was.

That was the beginning of the Shoe Rack Saga. After she departed, one week later, I waited an extra week and put the rack out again, as I had told her I would.

Yesterday night, I came home (not in a particularly good mood) to find a note sitting atop my trainers.

What happened to interaction? How about a knock on the door to say hi? I would have removed them immediately. This way of doing things frustrates me.

With no shoe rack left to put my shoes on, I felt compelled to clomp around the flat in my boots... Ok, not nice, but it did make me feel marginally better!


and there it sat quietly at the end of the landing.


remove or i get removed?

UMBRIA'S EXPLODING UDDERS

Delving deeper and deeper into the joys of rural living is proportional to the amount of chicken pooh that coats my trouser legs.

Prize milk cows go on show with their udders so utterly tense that the veins bulge and the liquid seeps through the teats at every step.

Rabbits get so used to being at agricultural fairs that they sit on tables, unchained, totally relaxed about the thousands of people stroking their coats.

Intertwined horns are seen as a good thing on mountain goats.

Stands are expected to be staffed by females wearing mini-skirts and plunging necklines to make the male-dominated farmer public happy.

I am thrilled at the sight of piglets and then enjoy a pork sandwich.

Who has lost the plot?


Toilets to the left


Clearly the best stand in town!


Competing for best-looking farmer

EYES OF HAPPINESS


From there we could see far...

FACES

BOOB MULTIPLICATIONS

I was partying away, oblivious that only a few minutes later, my super-dooper-no-straps-no-backs bra was about to take on a life of its own. First it felt like it had decided to move down towards my tummy button, then, in a flash, it started moving vertically. The next thing I knew, I had one boob on my right shoulder, the other under my left armpit and my two real ones bouncing around to the disco beats...

The next question is: how are you supposed to get a grasp on the silicone and stick it back in place without anyone noticing?

It was a bit like trying to leap on a fish that you have just hauled out of the pond and that has every intention of not doing as you would wish. They squealed and squelched, refusing to stick or stay in place.

A trip to the ladies ensued.

To my huge disappointment, the result was far from long-lasting.

By the end of the night I seriously contemplated telling everyone they were the new ashtrays. Shame Italy passed that law last year, or else I would have!


Rabbit ears? No, what men should never see!

STUCK IN BETWEEN THE HOUR

Somewhere down the night line, the time switched and I lost the hour I was going to use to go to Torrita di Siena to see the Palio dei Somari. Huge disappointment. I cannot believe I am going to have to wait another year for this... On the up side, I might get to the birthday party on time. Like kiddies, we have been invited to a Sunday afternoon party. I hope their will be fairy cakes with smarties on them ;-)


Not my picture...

WILDLIFE GALORE

It looked like a black bin liner being pushed across the road by the wind. Cristian's car swayed to avoid it, I steer to take a look. There was no wind, there was no rubbish, it was a purcupine!

My first - the one I spotted from Luca's car and that had me screaming "watch out, there is a pig crossing the road" does not count - and it was immediately followed by a second one, further up the hill towards Cortona.

At the top, an otter popped out from under a bush. I felt like I did not belong with my huge car!

THE MOVING OLIVE TREE

Three is the lucky number is it? So why is it that after the cipress and the oak, Cris managed to reverse back into an olive tree and do in the back bumper that he had just had repaired? I think the trees around here sway to the rythm of the wind and move into car's trajectory...

Maybe getting a car filled with sensors and gadgets, like Marco Clanet, is not such a bad idea after all?


Yes, it moved...

GENNARO & I CANI SBRANATORI

Una cosa rimane nell'incertezza: di chi saranno stati quei occhiali lasciati in terra, storti, vicino alla maxi buca scavata dal Pastore Argentino che ogni tanto salta la ringhiera per strappare le orecchie ai cani randagi del quartiere?

La serata di sabato non ha portata nessuna risposta. Sappiamo pero che le ciaccine di Gabriella sono FAVOLOSE, che Paolo porta magliettine usa e getta, e che il vincitore del San Remo music festival 2007 è un tipo schizofrenico che pensa di chiamarsi Biagio e che gira con una sedia gialla...

Ma Gennaro in tutto cio? Sarà il caso di chiamare "Chi l'ha visto".


Il Festival di San Remo fa dormire, ma sopratutto spaventa. Baudo con la sua colla da dentiera non ha fatto altro che assillare le povere ospiti terrorizzate.


Colina?


The cook.

STUDIO CARLINI IN THE SPOTLIGHT

Should you be looking for a fun architect to renovate your property or simply to build your dream from scratch, you might like to check out Marco Carlini: www.studiocarlini.com. Don't miss the bits of poetry throughout the site and most specifically on the pool section!


Marco is stuggling with his rabbits' sexual life and is still unsure which is female and which isn't... Good job there was no mention of him being a vet.

PERFECT PINK

Somewhere along the line pink stone was made to create Assisi. Then the earthquake came, followed by the scaffolding and builders. At a later stage, this Monday, the town was again hit by a series of tremors.

I was the only tourist walking around (unbelievable) and most importantly, the only one in high heels.

After a while, parking at one end of town and walking back to the Basilica di San Francesco started to make less and less sense...


Unaware of what was to come, Assisi lay calmly under the sunset.


The Basilica was left unscathed by the clomping vibrations.

A LONG WEEKEND IN GVA

Cinzia left Lorenzo to debate the value of blood diamonds and came with us to empty the oceans of fish in the geriatric Curling Cafe (welcome back to Geneva Cris!). From there we bounced for coffee and a shave in Gilette's new cantine with Freda.

La Madre, Fox and Alyssa made treacle tart in Collex to lure us back before surprising Robi and Nath - or should I say before driving round the block for ages looking for a parking spot.

The "apero-dinatoire" set the style for the rest of the weekend since it rained and poured and there was no way we could have skied... so we partied our socks off instead. Poulettes au rendez-vous! Pizza (no fondue :-( to Cristian's relief) and SIP.

Croco brunch with the Friedbacher-Foxes, cakes at Val's new pad (mum was let out of the garage to pasture the horse in the garden - dont ask me if I was on acid!), the usual unusual Sunday Dinner at Pasinis and it was time to bid farewell.

Until next time!


Thierry and Michela before the big debate against Val and JP on Pizzokkel vs Pizzokkery


Sandra looking swish in pink


Mais yes bichette, faut ouvrir les yeux poussin ;-)


Me souviens plus, y'avait une histoire de chat?


Meme pas peur!!


The crocodile was no longer there at the Musee d Histoire Naturelle de Geneve so Alyssa decided to knock a tooth out to entertain us... Here featured with Zoe and friends.

BEAVER IN THE BUSH

Or was it that Bush is a beaver?

It was swimming in a pond amidst the fields oblivious of the sniffer dog straining on the lead trying to get to it. One false movement by the intrepid walker and it dived for cover.

No pics. Only butterflies and lots of mud...

3 WHEELS ON A 4 WHEEL DRIVE

Most people use their 4x4 SUVs to go to the supermarket. I disagree. I use Cristian's to roll down hills. Whilst the Dickinson family checked out the house of their dreams, I reversed down the narrow drive, only to feel the car tipping dangerously towards the cliff... In true British fashion, Mr Dickinson strolled over and suggested I drive my three remaining wheels forwards rather than back.

It took several men, many logs and a huge plank to get the car back on the flat. So much for 4x4 - next time I might stick to supermarkets!


Somehow this pictures does not show that I was really about to tip over.

BUZZARDS, VIPERS, DAFFODILS AND GETTING YOUR EGGSHELLS IN THE RIGHT PLACE

On the way to work the other day a buzzard pounced on a viper and dragged it up in the air. On the way back it was raining and I managed to squash a toad. There were lots of them sitting in the road and I was trying to avoid them without loosing control of the pimp-mobile.

Global destruction.

No frogs, no snakes but plenty of daffodils (surely, February is a little early, even for Tuscany?). Having wiped the border of wildlife, I decided it was time to take the bull by the horns and weed out the person responsible for recycling. Did I mention somewhere that I am fed up of composting in my mini flat only to find that the container always contains a mixture of rubbish?

Mission failed. He was out - again.
Stay posted, he is not going to get away with it that lightly! Maybe I could organise for that viper to land in his office?


Daffodils grow well on compost.


Santa Maria Nuova is old, wrinkly and beautiful.

EYES WIDE SHUT

Whenever I meet up with Federica I always end up lost in the hills on either side of Perugia. Last night I was supposed to turn at the pigsty. It was pitch black. All buildings looked the same and there was no smell... so I ended up not seeing the turing and driving for ever to eventually end up in Elce where Federica found me frazzled. (Should I mention that the petrol pumps are all closed as there is a strike so it did seem like the best of times to accelerate round the country in my small car).

From Elce we went to Bastia and met up with Gabriella and her new camera. The restaurant was called Ciliegie&Pane. Never go there. It was terrible.

Since there were no cherries in sight, Gabriella decided to make some by flashing her digital into our eyes. The results are below!


Far from full. The salads never arrived, but we were asked if we wanted them after the desert. The wine on the other hand came with the coffee...


Too much pepper?


Tightly shut to shield from the flash.

LA FEE DU LOGIS

Cristian's official birthday party (Saturday and Sunday) dragged on and became a footballers frenzy. On Thursday they gathered in hoards to celebrate -- or just to gather in hoards. From an initial group of 20 they ended up being 36. Breathe in. Imagine how many onions need dicing to feed 36? How many eggs need beating? Tins greasing? I have become a hybrid between Rocky Balboa (for the arm muscles resulting from cooking) and La Fee du Logis (from cleaning up afterwards). I gather it was well worth it though. Cristian did not manage to make it back to Cortona but stayed at the Lago. I on the other hand had a splendid evening out with Giorgio and Federica in the Relais Borgo Brufa, a charming spot.


Mine looked a lot nicer than that of course!!

COCKTAILS, SAUSAGE ROLLS, FROCKS AND SO MUCH MORE

Cristian became older than me this Sunday. He now has a "toy-girl" - and lots of pasta shells filled with meat balls as well as mountains of cake. That is what happens when you celebrate with people who, without being British, spend more time drinking than eating. It might have been related to the amazing TomCrusesque skills of the barman, or to my cooking skills?!?!


Looking good before the boogie in Route 66.


Looking bad, even before the night ended!!

SLIMEY

At some stage I suppose I should start telling about the world of Italian real estate? Or maybe I shouldn't. Shattering the myth that they/we are all slimey? I might have more on the topic on Monday. In the interim, the only slimey thing I have at hand is my nose... charming. And who said it was not a good idea to get bronchitis/chest infections (I'm in Italy, so it's an Influenza and I should have spent the better part of the week in bed - but who can do that when there are castles to see and sales to shop?)


One of the nicer places visited so far.

THE CLANET

Although there are no pictures to prove it, I wanted to let the world know that the Clanets survived two nights on the sofa!!

Brigitte also overcame the madness of Marco's navigation system. Take a left here, take a right there. Tom tom did not stop them from getting stuck in traffic absolutely everywhere - 5 hrs to do 200 km... and Marc was raving about how fast you ("you" being very relative since his car drives itself / automatic everything, a true boy's dream. It even blows your nose if you ask it nicely) can drive on Italian roads.

They also managed to avoid Santa Margherita. If Madame Clanet senior is reading this, she will be appalled to see her son did not even check out the mummy. So they will have to come back!

SHAKEN CASINO ROYAL

How come half of the world sneers when I say I am going to see Casino Royal? Ok, so it’s old and you have all seen it ages ago – or at least last year… but I am going to see it in a theatre, so there!!! And the chandelier might be strung too low and obstruct part of the top of the screen, but its crystal, so who cares!! Cristian has surely got his mind on one of those American inventions that allows you to stick maize in a microwave and get popcorn out instead. Happy chomping!


Hello Mr Bond - did I mention that Judi Dench was in Cortona recently?!