2008 ITALIAN ODYSSEY - Piombino Dese/Loreggia

Friday September 19, 2008 – Sienna/Piombino Dese

Another good night’s sleep with less coughing and sneezing but my ear was really bad – as I told Rab when she enquired after my health it felt as if there was a bread poultice on it. Up bright and early and packed before breakfast, we found that it was grey and wet. Not solid rain but a succession of steady showers. After the usual excellent breakfast we were off and on our way to Loreggia and the wedding.

Ca’ de Meme our BnB

The autostrada was pretty good most of the day, although there were some roadworks in parts and also areas where there was a deal of congestion. The tunnels are an excellent idea, I must say. We drove consistently slower than the 130 kph (80 mph) speed limit so the journey took about four hours instead of the three hours predicted by TomTom. We had a bit of difficulty in finding the BnB Ca’ de Meme in Piombino Dese – because we used their directions rather than TomTom’s.

There was a message waiting for us to phone Antonella. James answered when we rang and invited us over to meet the Bastarolo family in Loreggia where we were warmly welcomed by all. After the compulsory snack of cheese and salami on good pane, washed down with a tasty glass of wine, we helped with some of the pre-wedding tasks, principally getting the ribbons and rosettes up in the garden. Local practice is to be-ribbon house and garden when there is a celebration. White ribbon for a wedding; blue or pink for boy or girl births. We also saw red and yellow ribbons as we drove around although no one seemed to be sure as to what they signified.

After we had done what we could and had a further snack with Antonella’s father Antonio, who had come in from the fields – plus a shot of his grappa, we headed for the evening meal. This was supplied by Bruce, James’ best man, a pleasant enough lad. He and his parents, Boet and Elaine, and James were staying at Castelfranco, about 10 km from Loreggia so we went across there. We trekked for what seemed like miles across cobbled squares and down cobbled streets past dozens of restaurants before finding one they liked.  It was a jolly evening and the food was good – Rab had her favourite vongole again and I had a Penne Arrabiata.

We made our way home and into bed without any problems.

Saturday September 20, 2008 – Piombino Dese

We slept very well in our comfortable bed in the digs last night and although the breakfast was a little sparse – very little salami or cheese, not much of a choice of bread/rolls etc – it was adequate.

Rab was thrilled to hear that it was Market Day in the village, so after we dropped Gill (James’ godmother who had also come to Italy for the wedding) off at the Bastarolo house in Loreggia, we went back to Piombino Dese to the market and to look around the village. It was a good market, as markets go and Rab was lucky enough to find not one but two pairs of shoes to complement her new handbag. We had a nice cappuccino and a pastry before heading back to the BnB to change for the main event.

The order of the day was for everyone to gather at the Bastarolos for drinks (non alcoholic) and snacks about an hour and a half before the ceremony. Usually this gathering would be at the groom’s house, but clearly that was not possible. Of course there were mountains of food and gallons of drinks and once again we were made very welcome. Very few of the family or guests had any English, so it was quite heavy going in parts, but the  atmosphere was such a light hearted and happy one it was good to be part of the show.

We then headed off for the church passing the enormous heart painted on the road by James’ pals. There was no organ music, but an excellent choir accompanied by a string/flute ensemble provided a lovely atmosphere Antonella looked lovely and there were tears all around. The ceremony was all in Italian, naturally, and the priest seemed to go on and on for ages with his homily. At the close of the church proceedings we watched with interest some rather unusual local customs. The car which was to take the bride and groom to the reception had been covered in paper towelling and then wrapped in cling foil – miles of it.

The happy couple were then required to tear off this wrapping – but only after they had been photographed with all the guests in individual groups and had been pelted with raw rice (there were a couple of five litre buckets of rice provided for the guests to dip into) as the bells in the church pealed loudly. All rather odd for us but great fun for the locals.

There was, as seems to be the norm nowadays, a two and a half hour hiatus between the completion of the formalities and the commencement of the reception. The family went off home, presumably to start tidying up the mess while the bridal party went off for more photos. Lord alone knows how many were taken by the official photographer, let alone by the guests.

Sue, Mike and me

The total must have been in the thousands. We headed off to the golf club where the reception was to be held and found a few of the other guests there. It was pleasant just sitting in the evening sun chatting and catching up with all the news.

In the fullness of time, everyone arrived and the first of the seventeen courses of food also did so – the antipasto and a very fine spumante. We duly moved inside and formed a small English speaking group.

That was some menu to choose from

It was a very joyful and happy evening – possibly the best wedding (apart from our own!) we have ever attended. The food was excellent as was the wine and everyone was in good spirits. There were what seemed to us some rather foolish interludes involving the bride and groom having to participate in various games, but it was all in good fun and greatly appreciated by the crowd.

We called it  a day at about 01.00 and dropped Boet and Elaine off at their hotel on the way. Boet was as tight as a tick, having consumed enormous quantities of beer. It was difficult to have a conversation with him even when he was sober. Among the pearls he had cast before us during the evening were his impressions of Venice where he had been the day before – which was even untidier than Cape Town. His opening salvo was a comment that he was surprised by the fact that the people who had invented paint now no longer bothered to paint their houses. This was followed by a tirade about the quality of housing “They live like rats there!” to the finish “If I had to live there I would shoot myself.” So much for the glories of Venice.

And so to bed.