Hotel Architecture

This is the remarkable lobby of a hotel I stayed in recently in Asti. It was pleasingly run-down. This picture I think makes it look better kept than it actually is. Presumably dating from 1970s (any ideas from the architecturally-minded?) the lobby's island feature really caught my eye. Someone has filled the base with that sort of white shredded plastic packaging material you find inside the box when you order an electronic item from Amazon. One of the half-dead pot plants has a faded red ribbon tied around it. The three distant guests marked the height of activity whilst I was there. Silence invariably reigned apart from an occasional trolley bag being dragged across the lobby by a weary sales representative heading for his dusty Fiat Croma and yet another meaningless appointment.

When Will It End?

Pretty bloody quickly if things carry on like this I think.
 

My mate Sid

I was clearing out the PH Memorial Shed in a rare burst of activity. There were a load of concrete bricks in one corner, damp from a gently leaking pipe. That corner was dark and as I got towards the bottom of the pile, puffing and panting in my ghastly late middle-aged way, I thought I saw something slither. I ran out squeaking, got a serious torch and went back. Yes, there was Sid all curled up amongst mice-chewed newspaper and all sorts of other unmentionable stuff. I would like to say that I was the one who captured him but I thought that it might be better to get someone who knows what a viper looks like. So along came Gianni and his wife Rosella and with a pair of barbecue tongs we got him in a large glass.

 

He was quite long and struck out a couple of times. After a lot of tooth sucking Gianni declared that this was not a viper but a bicha, a harmless mouse-eating snake (good for you Sid). So I gingerly let him go into the next field and off he slithered happy as Larry Sid.

We have a truly ignorant neighbour who claims on a regular basis to have killed vipers which is almost certainly bollocks. Another neighbour (89 year old Riccardo) has lived here all his life and says he has never seen one; he is probably right. Snakes are good for the countryside although that bloke in Blighty who was bitten by one of his King Cobras this week and then died may well have overstated his affection for them somewhat.

Uncle Hector's car

Some eleven years ago dear Uncle Hector drove back to his farm near Launceston in Cornwall (Cornovaglia in Italian, the only British county to have an Italian name) from a local Parish Council meeting, parked the car in the drive that leads down to the milking sheds and went inside, greeted Auntie Eileen, had a cup of tea, said he thought he'd go to bed, which he did and never got up again. Nice way to go really. Anyhoo, this is his car and it looks as if it has never been moved.

Blighty Today

Just back from a whirlwind visit to Devonshire to visit the last resting places of a variety of dead relatives, wonderful weather, gorgeous English countryside, great beer and wine and probably the best fish and chips I've ever eaten. Anyhoo, back in Italy where the weather is so British, damp and cold and miserable.
For reasons too complicated to go into here, I flew in and out of Birmingham and yesterday coming back it was almost deserted which was such an unexpected joy after the usual horrors of Gatwick or Thiefrow.
Some of you may be surprised that I did not take advantage of this heart-warming offer from the Yates's bar, but where is the indefinite article? It's Breakfast and a Pint.

 

God help us.

Tea Time

I have reverted (through a logistical cock-up) to leaf tea. And, whaddya know, it's better than tea bags. Still PG Tips of course but it's a nicer cuppa (or should that be mugga?). A proposito, do you like my new mug?

Only in Italy...

 ...and I believe in North Korea is there a functioning communist party. Actually this being Italy, there is more than one communist party, this lot being of the Leninist faction. I think the flags are quite striking.

This is their newspaper. Unreadably dull of course. Workers of the World Unite! it says.