Italy
I'm just back from a glorious weekend bringing in the olive harvest at my parents' place in Italy - hard work, but made fun all the same by good conversation, lovely sunshine, good food and good wine. God, life is good out there! Plus I got to climb trees, which is always sure to make Bex a happy girl. The satisfaction of picking the olives is like that of the work in Highgate Cemetery - you're doing something productive outside in nature, you're making something through the sweat of your brow rather than just the buzzing of your braincells. Wonderful stuff.
We had a drama at the last minute last night when we took the olives (over 400kg of them) to the frantoio (olive press) and the guy did a whole 'you should have brought them at noon, I may not have them done till Wednesday' routine. Despite the fact we'd brought them at the time we'd booked. And that the olives would be spoiled if he left it till Wednesday. Useless bastard. After sleeping on it, we decided to go there again this morning, rescue the olives, and take them to a more reliable guy. It's hard to believe that this morning I was lugging crates in the sunshine and am now sitting in a London flat with the heating going full tilt. Seems harder to believe I only left on Friday!
We had a drama at the last minute last night when we took the olives (over 400kg of them) to the frantoio (olive press) and the guy did a whole 'you should have brought them at noon, I may not have them done till Wednesday' routine. Despite the fact we'd brought them at the time we'd booked. And that the olives would be spoiled if he left it till Wednesday. Useless bastard. After sleeping on it, we decided to go there again this morning, rescue the olives, and take them to a more reliable guy. It's hard to believe that this morning I was lugging crates in the sunshine and am now sitting in a London flat with the heating going full tilt. Seems harder to believe I only left on Friday!