Don't Count on the Count (or) Nice View. Where's the Pasta?
Before I began my first real post from Italy, I had to wait for two unique sets of circumstances to coincide - the first, that I would have some good Italy stories, and the second, that I would actually be able to recall enough English to form coherent sentences.
At last, the stars align.
On last Saturday night, our concert group departed for its first location - the Castello di Cennina, located in the tiny hill town of Bucine. Castello, for those of you who may not have been paying close attention, is Italian for "Castle." Cennina is mostly a ruin in the picturesque Gothic style, clinging to the Tuscan hillside like a shy child to a maternal skirt. The castle is ringed by fruit trees of every description, and when we arrived in the afternoon, musicians in concert clothes were already climbing the ancient walls and plucking warm cherries from the trees. Everywhere were potted lemons and fig trees bursting with unripened fruit.
In addition to boasting marvelous views and well-laden fruit trees, Cennina is also fabled for its long delicious dinners. These dinners are usually served to the musicians by the eccentric Count Osvaldo, the owner and landlord of the picturesque, vitamin-laden ruin that is Cennina. Anticipating said dinner, almost none of us touched a a bite all day. We were on the Italian starvation diet of only 2,000 calories, and by early evening, our eyes began to glaze with hunger. To our surprise, however, the only dinner we were served before the concert began and ended at 5:00. It was... bread. Bread covered with a cold tomato paste. It was Italian bread, and Italian cold tomato paste, so it was delicious - but it didn't quite qualify as "dinner." Add to that a handful of sun-warmed cherries and a bellyful of surprised, gormless resentment, and you will begin to realize why some of us were fondling our tubas with a threatening gleam in our eyes.
Meanwhile, the sopranos were growing restless and irritable. The concert finally started around 10:00 PM (9:00 PM Italian time), and lasted until roughly 2011. Highlights of the concert included a well-dressed blind man who managed to sleep through the entire performance, snoring on the beat and waking only to applaud. When we finally emerged from the scenic concert hall - part castle ruin, part musty attic, all eerie, candlelit, hunger-influenced doom - it was to heaping plates of delicious...
bread. That's right, more bread. Fortunately the bread was followed by pasta, which was followed by roast turkey (which I did not eat) and roasted potatoes (which I did). Only one of our clarinetists was bitten by a hostile dog, and we only surprised one family in the side of the castle who were, somehow, watching a soccer game.
So all in all I would say the Cennina concert was a success. Pictures coming soon.
I will have more updates when I have more time to write, but right now I am so behind on my work that I must leave you with the story of Cennina. May all your views be beautiful and all your dinners on-time.
At last, the stars align.
On last Saturday night, our concert group departed for its first location - the Castello di Cennina, located in the tiny hill town of Bucine. Castello, for those of you who may not have been paying close attention, is Italian for "Castle." Cennina is mostly a ruin in the picturesque Gothic style, clinging to the Tuscan hillside like a shy child to a maternal skirt. The castle is ringed by fruit trees of every description, and when we arrived in the afternoon, musicians in concert clothes were already climbing the ancient walls and plucking warm cherries from the trees. Everywhere were potted lemons and fig trees bursting with unripened fruit.
In addition to boasting marvelous views and well-laden fruit trees, Cennina is also fabled for its long delicious dinners. These dinners are usually served to the musicians by the eccentric Count Osvaldo, the owner and landlord of the picturesque, vitamin-laden ruin that is Cennina. Anticipating said dinner, almost none of us touched a a bite all day. We were on the Italian starvation diet of only 2,000 calories, and by early evening, our eyes began to glaze with hunger. To our surprise, however, the only dinner we were served before the concert began and ended at 5:00. It was... bread. Bread covered with a cold tomato paste. It was Italian bread, and Italian cold tomato paste, so it was delicious - but it didn't quite qualify as "dinner." Add to that a handful of sun-warmed cherries and a bellyful of surprised, gormless resentment, and you will begin to realize why some of us were fondling our tubas with a threatening gleam in our eyes.
Meanwhile, the sopranos were growing restless and irritable. The concert finally started around 10:00 PM (9:00 PM Italian time), and lasted until roughly 2011. Highlights of the concert included a well-dressed blind man who managed to sleep through the entire performance, snoring on the beat and waking only to applaud. When we finally emerged from the scenic concert hall - part castle ruin, part musty attic, all eerie, candlelit, hunger-influenced doom - it was to heaping plates of delicious...
bread. That's right, more bread. Fortunately the bread was followed by pasta, which was followed by roast turkey (which I did not eat) and roasted potatoes (which I did). Only one of our clarinetists was bitten by a hostile dog, and we only surprised one family in the side of the castle who were, somehow, watching a soccer game.
So all in all I would say the Cennina concert was a success. Pictures coming soon.
I will have more updates when I have more time to write, but right now I am so behind on my work that I must leave you with the story of Cennina. May all your views be beautiful and all your dinners on-time.