The Party is Over, Some Thoughts on Italy.

The Wedding Party Venue

This week's blog is not about my past; it is wholly about my present, so those only interested in reminiscences of our past life can stop reading now. I just do not want to overtax my brain this week.

Phew, it is Tuesday morning, and the wedding party is finally over, although the bride and groom, my son Selby, and his wife, Maggie, and Rozanne, along with their peers in age, have another day to go. For us old-timers, one day was enough; for them, a wedding party seems to be a five-day affair, just as hen and stag parties suddenly become extended, lasting a number of days or even a week, and even entail travel to a foreign venue. Either they are much stronger than we were, or they just don't drink as much as we did. Although they give it a good go, they probably do not drink as much as we did within a twenty-four-hour period, but exceed us over the extended time span. The other significant difference is that they have the time and money to attend and pay for such events. When I first got married, I had to take leave from the army. Then I think I got paid, Rh$19 a week. The second time, we only invited visitors but ended up with fourteen gatecrashers drinking my whisky, which ran out quickly, requiring a resupply from Rob Duncan’s cache just down the road from the venue; Sally Sandeman’s house in Avondale. Thank goodness this time ‘Mum and Dad’ did not have to pay, with the guests paying their own accommodation and travel, along with self-financing much of the alcohol. Was it a success? Very much so. While the youngsters built up to the party and wound down from the party by more partying, us oldies, which included my two sisters, Mandy and Fiona, Fiona’s partner Gordon, and the bride's Mum, Irina along with Rozanne and I went out for dinners, played pool into the night finishing with card games and whisky every evening, or in fact early morning.

Yes, there were fireworks. Maggie and Selby leading from the front at the party.

After all, we do not see each other too often. We need to find some better excuses to get together. My eldest daughter, Storm, and her fiancé, Duncan, being in their forties, decided they would be more comfortable in our staid company and joined us. I was struck by how polite the wedding guests were, with excellent manners and a willingness to discuss a myriad of subjects. After all, they had arrived for the function from sixteen different countries, so I was told. Amazing. Further, they were all ambitious and, despite the time off aspect, sounded very hardworking. The long and the short of it is, I gained more respect for the millennial generation. Selby and Maggie had also chosen an excellent venue, a large, rather run-down but functional villa with enough bedrooms to house most of the youngsters, along with entertainment facilities. It must have been a successful agricultural estate in the past, growing olives and grapes. What remained of the cellars and the vast, empty kegs for the wine was a testament to that, indicating a significant historical wealth. Now the remaining owners' only use is to hire it out as a holiday lodge or function venue. No doubt, taxes and inheritance laws contributed to its demise as a functioning vineyard, now an excellent function venue. I was most impressed with Maggie and Selby's organisation, a five-day party with different activities and venues in a distant country is no mean feat.

The music was in the wine cellar

I have been lucky to have travelled very extensively in my life, but this was my first time to Italy and obviously only to the region I am writing this from. Therefore, my thoughts on Italy are restricted to first impressions in regard to this area within the Puglia region, which, for geographical simplicity, is the heel of the boot of Italy. When hiring a car, we made an effort to drive a considerable distance north and south to get a better feel for the country. On arrival, we were not impressed at all, pot-holed roads and litter and litter and litter. It was also very flat around the town we stayed in, Trani, with olives and table grapes being the main crops; however, a significant number of stone fruit plantations are also in evidence. No citrus seen. My next disappointment was the food, especially since my friends in Portugal, who know Italy well, raved about it and informed me that we would find it superior to what we had in Portugal. What a disappointment, our early pastas did not seem fresh, and the sauces were insipid. Furthermore, it was costly, more than double what we paid at home, and in many instances, three times the price for fairly mediocre food. 

“Prices on the menu had little relation to those that appeared on the bill, nor were there any valid reasons for the ad hoc charges. Language is an excellent tool in the art of ripping your customers off in Italy, I learned to my cost.” - Peter McSporran

Top-end restaurants charged beyond this pensioner's means. Its saving grace was when we went into the rural areas, the food improved, maybe not much cheaper, but a hell of a lot better. The fairs in these economically tourist-based towns may be geared to maximise profit from their tourist clientele. Not every restaurant was like this, but we found the majority we visited in the first few days or so until we became wise. 

The oldies in attendance. Duncan, Storm's fiancé, my sister Mandy, Rozanne, Storm, Gordon, my sister Fiona's husband in all but name, Fiona and me.

Of interest my daughter Storm and her fiance went on a cheese-making course, and the italian lady who ran it said when she heard our views on the food mentioned there was a massive scandal as a cartel was supplying frozen pasta not fresh which the restaurants had to sell and the costs were driven by corruption, every business has to be supplied and protected by the mafia. It seems the mafia does not only exist in books. I looked it up on AI, and there it was: the mafia is still very active in Southern Italy. They run protection rackets, using extortion; if you want power or water to your premises, pay, along with the normal bread and butter side of the businesses, such as drugs and prostitution. Many of the leaders are in jail, but it appears they can continue to operate from their current location. 

There was trash everywhere. This is on the main highway north where we stopped for a comfort break

Regarding our travels outside Trani, we went north and south. We visited the remarkable rock-carved houses in Matera to the south and took a long road trip through some fantastic farmland, eventually reaching the coastal hills in the north, which led up to the beautiful town of Vietes, well worth a visit. On the return trip, we left the coastal road and re-entered the mountains through the Gargano National Park, passing through the amazing forests of Umbra. These forests are home to impressive trees, similar to those found in the UK, but much larger. There are beeches, oaks, sycamores, limes, elms, ashes, yews, and chestnut trees.  On the coast, it was arid; in the forest, you could have been in the UK, well worth the trip. No litter to be seen here!

“The wonders of nature never cease to amaze me. Even now at this late stage in my life, I joy in its wonders.” - Peter McSporran.

In summary, the infrastructure appeared shabby; unlike Portugal, the people, while friendly, were much more reserved. The food in the towns was expensive and of poor quality, the roads were potholed, and the roadsides were filthy. In saying that, there are also some beautiful spots, both coastal and inland. I am told that in many parts of Italy, this is not the case, but I will not be returning to verify if this is true. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, and the wedding party was spectacular; oh, and the booze was excellent. So not all bad. 

Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.