Any oasis in a storm

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Another lazy-ish day today. The morning was made interesting by the arrival of Brian, the lovely Irish contractor who has lived in Torri in Sabina for many years, his three year old son Liam, and and Italian man trained in whichever trade gets Geoff clothes out of washing machines. Liam is an adorable little fellow, appropriately shy with bright blonde hair. We went down to the pool to assess the accuracy of my fathers "very warm" verdict on the water temperature (lies!). Brian was tickled that my father had left blue footprints in the dust that is already settling at the bottom of the pool, and Liam was intrigued by the plight of a drowning bee.



After the rescue of Geoff's clothes the plan was for the parents and I to walk to Casperia, where we have been before (Casperia the friendly host), though in weather much less pleasant than the warm sun we had today. Geoff has taken the motorcycle there, and advised us the route is simple and lovely, and about three quarters of the 6km walk we did the other day around the village (I called it 12km. It seemed long). We pulled out the iPad to confirm our road choice a couple of km into our walk to Casperia, and we're a little startled to realize its actually a 20km round trip, rather than a 8km round trip, and we elected to go back to the villa for lemon cokes, lunch and then drive to the edge of Casperia and walk in. By the time we'd eaten Geoff was ready to come along too, and we made the very pretty drive to the very pretty city. We wandered about much as before, and enjoyed snack and a drink at the Friends Cafe. We took some time to watch the coming and going of swallows, who nest in special bricks with holes in them, or build nests out of spit under the eaves of roofs. It's sort of a slow news day, so let's talk about swallows for a minute. Swallows are defined thusly: The swallows and martins are a group of passerine birds in the family Hirundinidae which are characterised by their adaptation to aerial feeding. Swallow is used colloquially in Europe as a synonym for the Barn Swallow.

This family comprises two subfamilies: Pseudochelidoninae (the river martins of the genus Pseudochelidon) and Hirundininae (all other swallows and martins). Within the Hirundininae, the name "martin" tends to be used for the squarer-tailed species, and the name "swallow" for the more fork-tailed species; however, there is no scientific distinction between these two groups. The family contains around 83 species in 19 genera. To remember biological classifications: King Phillip Came Over For Good Soup - Kingdom, Phylum, Class, Order, Family, Genus, Species.

This is all very important information, as the below quote demonstrates:

Bridgekeeper: What... is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?

King Arthur: What do you mean? An African or European swallow?

Bridgekeeper: Huh? I... I don't know that.



Bridgekeeper: Auuuuuuuugh.

Sir Bedevere: How do know so much about swallows?

King Arthur: Well, you have to know these things when you're a king, you know.

Back to swallows: Swallows have adapted to hunting insects on the wing by developing a slender streamlined body and long pointed wings, which allow great maneuverability and endurance, as well as frequent periods of gliding. Their body shape allows for very efficient flight, which costs 50-75%!l(MISSING)ess for swallows than equivalent passerines of the same size. Swallows usually forage at around 30–40 km/h, although they are capable of reaching speeds of between 50–65 km/h when traveling. The more primitive species nest in existing cavities, for example in an old woodpecker nest, while other species excavate burrows in soft substrate such as sand banks. Swallows in the genera Hirundo, Ptyonoproggne, Cecropis, Petrochelidon and Delichon build mud nests close to overhead shelter in locations that are protected from both the weather and predators. The mud-nesters are most common in the Old World, particularly Africa, whereas cavity-nesters are the rule in the New World

The Roman historian Pliny the Elder described a use of painted swallows to deliver a report of the winning horses at a race. During the nineteenth century, Jean Desbouvrie attempted to tame swallows and train them for use as messenger birds, as an alternative to war pigeons. The Roman historian Pliny the Elder described a use of painted swallows to deliver a report of the winning horses at a race. During the nineteenth century, Jean Desbouvrie attempted to tame swallows and train them for use as messenger birds, as an alternative to war pigeons.

Bird's nest soup is a delicacy in Chinese cuisine. A few species of swift, the cave swifts, are renowned for building the saliva nests used to produce the unique texture of this soup. The edible bird's nests are among the most expensive animal products consumed by humans. The nests have been used in Chinese cooking for over 400 years, most often as bird's nest soup. The most heavily harvested nests are from the Edible-nest Swiftlet or White-nest Swiftlet (Aerodramus fuciphagus) and the Black-nest Swiftlet (Aerodramus maximus). The white nests and the red nests are supposedly rich in nutrients, which are traditionally believed to provide health benefits, such as aiding digestion, raising libido, improving the voice, alleviating asthma, improving focus, and an overall benefit to the immune system. Perhaps my father can shed insight about whether any of these benefits are conferred by having one poop on your arm.



The plan for our last dinner in Torri in Sabina (not quite our last in Italy, since we'll likely have dinner in Milan before taking the overnight train to Paris tomorrow) was meant to be a restaurant that has been described as "macho", "delicious" and "hideous" by my uncle Geoff, who is a lighting designer and very attuned to the presence of fluorescent lightbulbs. The restaurant is just a few clicks out of town, and Geoff guided us there successfully, having had a fabulous steak dinner there with the owner of our villa before we arrived. Sadly, it was closed. There were signs signaling to another restaurant, located beside the church where I'd written about the bad three dimensional perspective and how the artist had endeavored to hide his shame by placing things at the impossible junctions of three sides of a table. At first glance it didn't seem likely we'd find a restaurant, since there just seemed to be a coffee bar with one of those machines that will tell you how sexy you are (the lowest rating being "frigid impotent"). But lo and behold, tucked in the back was a very respectable looking restaurant called l'oasi di Vescovio. It seemed as though the thunderstorm that had been brewing all evening was beginning to rev up and we were happy to have somewhere to seek shelter and be fed. The four of us managed to be dazzlingly successful at ordering like Italians, sharing a Napoletana pizza as an antipasto, two orders of taglietelle with seafood and two orders of steak plus grilled asparagus and eggplant, and fries. We managed to do all of it in the correct order and not offend our very pleasant server. At the end Geoff went with her to the kitchen to try and get some chocolate ice, which he's been craving, and since it's very hard to convey wanting something just like chocolate getalo but made without cream in a language you do not speak; it was easier to go inspect the choices in person.



A few minutes after Geoff returned, his server arrived with three delicious scoops of gelato with a little umbrella stuck in the top, which she said was for the thunderstorm outside. Having a tiny umbrella brought on a flamboyant fit from Geoff, and he treated us all to the rare and wonderful Fruity Dance. If you thought that was the zenith of weird for the meal you'd normally be correct, but tonight the server then proceeded to bring out the most enormous egg I've ever seen, she seemed to be calling it an eagle's egg, but perhaps "eagle" is Italian for "ostrich" or even "tyrannosaurus Rex". Each member of our party held it in turn, declaring it very heavy. Both dad and Geoff also listened to it, and if it said anything, they weren't sharing.



Back to the house of pack up and get ready for the big trek tomorrow. Drive 2.5 hours to Florence (which could be dodgy, as streets in Florence are restricted due to the heritage nature of the city), then the train to Milan, layover several hours, then overnight train to Paris. Geoff is in the villa two more nights, then will also be in Paris. To help make less work for him in the coming days, I ate the last of the vienetta.



I have run out of allergy medicine. I am praying like the heathen I am that I will leave my allergies behind when I depart Torri in Sabina.

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Photos

This family lost a few children
I stared at the photo of the 29 day old to see if there were dystrophic features, but it was probably infection

Inexplicable giant egg brought to our table
This is what happens when you go out with Geoff

Comments

[hamish]

apologies to Keltie (but it should not go unwritten)
When your father received his bird gift from the sky, did he suddenly cry out, "That's nonsense, Pope pants"? By the way, I want to drive from Casperia to Stockholm.