Fifteen

DID ST FRANCIS WALK THESE OLIVE GROVES? 
Did we see many good looking Italian men and women? They are known for their look, you know. We saw many Europeans, who we think were Italians on a holiday, for we were here on a weekend. The Italians by nature are loud and yes, most of them were loud and expressive. We saw a lot of children, noisy, yet obedient and comfortable to be playing by themselves. No mother or grandma followed them around with a spoonful of food. They were on their own, playing and sitting at a table,  breaking bread with the family. And the little girls and the little boys are the best looking of 'em all. 
Sunday morning we left for the small pilgrimage of St Francesca's Bascillica. With a map in hand we set forth for this 1.5 kms (I think they miscalculated but no one is asking me). And promised to meet under a small distant tent for a drink. With that thought in mind we also started walking. Akhila and I stopped midway on seeing a steep climb with no visible support. We sat on a bench, with the sound of gurgling water, bees and wasps buzzing. In fact we also saw ants busy carrying something and moving around energetically. 
We waited for a while and I sat imagining Francescan monks walking by the olive groves, in the quiet of only standing trees those days. Probably. Or people trotting on horses on cobble stones and women scurrying away with baskets wearing wooden clogs. Who knows. St Francis is supposed to have talked with animals and there are paintings of him with birds sitting on his shoulders, while he is talking to deers.... 
The four walkers then returned, and Matina was all awed because they heard a woman singing in the Bascillica. Truly momentous. A lot of people were quite the keen walkers, including small children. There were a few prams too. 
And then we walked to the tent, which was one of the most rustic and gorgeous restaurants one has seen. First there was a lone strawberry en route and then grape wines growing on the logs, an open kitchen fire, while the chimney worked overtime. Rabbits are a big favourite. And they leave a message in the menu card saying that the animals have been well fed and later shot down. Killing them softly, so to speak... 
But we had a delicious meal. The eggplant parmigiana was outstanding and the Proseco and the Italian dessert. All sated, we took a different route and got to see a spot of rural Italy but had to reverse, for there was a huge ditch. 
Enroute Akhila and I had decided on dinner which was premix Bisibele and since it was a tad spicy we picked up some plain yoghurt (lucky us) and returned to the farmhouse, much to the merriment of the puppies, nipping at anything in sight. While they were distracted I walked away. 
I was not able to sit out and enjoy the farmhouse delights of goat bells and Milo having a discussion with Nona Pino because these two puppies were on the lookout and they were still not trained enough.. 
I was a bit out of sorts and I think it was heat stroke/dehydration because of the lack of water.  Lots of water and no alcohol helped, shocking poor M. Because I seriously believe that rum hi har marz ki dawaa hai and I was saying no to the last of the bottles. 
Every evening we were also sharing stories about ourselves and it was nice to get insights into each of the group. Have to tell my story towards the end. Keep the best for the last, eh..... 

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