We are here in Torre Orsina. A beautiful place. The journey here is more difficult the older we get and the flight more intolerable. Are the seats getting closer together? Yes. We took a car service to the Pensacola airport the morning of 1 August at 8:15am and arrived at the train station in Terni at 1:00pm the following day, so almost 22 hours of travel. Corrado picked us up at the station. We are staying at the home of his parents, Gioacchino and Rosanna, which he is in the process of renovating into three apartments. The home is located in the hill above the church in a section called “Il Colle”, or “the hills”. Thankfully it is a bit cooler up in il colle and has been quite comfortable these past 2 nights.
On Thursday evening the town has a dinner in the small piazza. Tables are set up and families bring their own tablecloths, dishes, glasses, etc. along with drinks and sides. Tonight they ordered arancini – breaded and fried rice balls containing ground meat and peas inside. They are the size and color of oranges, hence the name which translates into “oranges” in Italian. Everyone has placed their orders well in advance, but luckily there are extras, so we purchase three for only €2 each. Our good friend Danielle and her son Alex, invite us to sit with them and share their panzanella. After dinner we are exhausted and walk up into the hills to our home to sleep well into the next afternoon.
On Friday we get ourselves out the door around 4pm and find Virgilio sitting outside his home on the bench with Maria Giulia and Elda as Genevra, now 12 years old, zips about on her hoverboard. Everyone looks to be doing well and after a while we find ourselves invited to dinner at Maria Giulia’s home in Torre Orsina. We’re joined by Ginevra’s parents, Cesare and Antonella, and the five of us sit down to a simple dinner of prosciutto and melon, meatballs of veal with lemon, a tomato and arugula salad, a wonderful little dried sausage from Norcia, cheese, bread, and wine. As dinner was being prepared, Ginevra finds a shoe of cards and I teach her blackjack. She screams and dances as she wins hand after hand. After dinner she wants us all to play, and a bag of plaques are found so everyone can wager. Genevra is not nearly as shy as she was only 3 years ago and her English is very good. She’s inquisitive about America, especially our candy. She found a website called Uncle America that sells American candy and asks us about Skittles and Twizzlers. She’s also heard disturbing stories of Americans eating pizza with pineapple and ham, and when we verify these stories she shrieks in disgust. She tells us that she can make pancakes at home and is further appalled that we’ve never tried them with Nutella. We send her over the edge with tales of Italian-Americans eating sausage sandwiches with peppers and onions. Too disgusting to be believed, I think.
After a short walk to the bar, we select a couple of novelty ice creams and eat them on our walk back to our home in il colle. Perhaps tonight we will return to a normal sleep schedule for we need to take the bus into town to purchase groceries on Saturday.
On Friday we get ourselves out the door around 4pm and find Virgilio sitting outside his home on the bench with Maria Giulia and Elda as Genevra, now 12 years old, zips about on her hoverboard. Everyone looks to be doing well and after a while we find ourselves invited to dinner at Maria Giulia’s home in Torre Orsina. We’re joined by Ginevra’s parents, Cesare and Antonella, and the five of us sit down to a simple dinner of prosciutto and melon, meatballs of veal with lemon, a tomato and arugula salad, a wonderful little dried sausage from Norcia, cheese, bread, and wine. As dinner was being prepared, Ginevra finds a shoe of cards and I teach her blackjack. She screams and dances as she wins hand after hand. After dinner she wants us all to play, and a bag of plaques are found so everyone can wager. Genevra is not nearly as shy as she was only 3 years ago and her English is very good. She’s inquisitive about America, especially our candy. She found a website called Uncle America that sells American candy and asks us about Skittles and Twizzlers. She’s also heard disturbing stories of Americans eating pizza with pineapple and ham, and when we verify these stories she shrieks in disgust. She tells us that she can make pancakes at home and is further appalled that we’ve never tried them with Nutella. We send her over the edge with tales of Italian-Americans eating sausage sandwiches with peppers and onions. Too disgusting to be believed, I think.
After a short walk to the bar, we select a couple of novelty ice creams and eat them on our walk back to our home in il colle. Perhaps tonight we will return to a normal sleep schedule for we need to take the bus into town to purchase groceries on Saturday.