Yesterday, a small notice was posted which advertised that bomboloni (donuts) would be available at the bar after church services let out. These are generally a mix of plain and filled coronetti (croissants). These “little horns” are filled with Nutella or pastry cream. There are also jelly-filled sugar-coated donuts, small crostata, and cookies. We planned on waking up in time and dragging ourselves into town to partake of the goodies. While the crowd was in church, we took a spot at one of the outside tables and selected our bomboloni and drinks before the rush. A short while after we were joined by David and Laura – the Wisconsin couple that rented the other apartment in our building from Corrado. Both are in their 60’s and are traveling the world. They’ll only be in Torre Orsina for a week after having arrived from Roma. David sold his automotive business (he made custom manual transmissions for 60’s muscle cars) and, following his wife’s lead, sold their home and are now self-proclaimed “global nomads”. They plan on traveling for a minimum of 2 years, but maybe as long as 8 years, depending on their health. Cinzia, having spoken with them a day or two prior, suspects that Laura is a liberal who forecasts doom and gloom now that President Trump is in office, so departing the U.S. for these reasons also played into their plans. We did not discuss politics, but instead focused on the state of Italy and managed to solve all of their problems from our tiny table in the piazzetta over pastries and coffee.
We chatted until just after 1pm when the sun pushed us out of the piazzetta signaling the lunch hour. The four of us walked back to our respective apartments. We were still full from bomboloni so I blogged while Cinzia relaxed with her adult coloring book. After a well deserved pisolino (nap) we headed to the main piazza where they were setting up for a musical tribute for the 5th memorial for Ottaviano Bernardini . Ottaviano was a towering, well-loved figure of Torre Orsina who died 5 years ago from cancer at the age of 58. He organized many of the town’s activities, ran the festa, and even created the Tamburini (drummers). This is the 10th year of the Tamburini who have earned acclaim throughout the region for their performances – all done with ancient handmade drums and in traditional costumes. Tamburini from two other towns were invited to join the memorial. The piazza was encircled with chairs and the church steps were filled with onlookers as each group played and marched for the crowd’s entertainment. One group was comprised of drummers, horn players, and 8 sbandieratori (flag throwers) – all under the age of 15. Another, from Norcia, used modern plastic skinned drums and the sound produced vibrated the stone walls of the old village. Before the Tamburini of Torre Orsina took center stage, our tamburini piccilo (little drummers) had their turn. These young kids are just learning the ropes and will one day join the Tamburini. The main event featured our drummers and 3 horn players – all much more improved since we saw them 3 years ago. They sported new, more elaborate, costumes and ended their performance by each laying a yellow rose at a small alter as a tribute to Ottaviano. His mother, Luigina, is somewhat of an outcast in the town and sat alone crying. His widow, Antonella, sat in front of us and held up well throughout the tribute. To conclude, each of the Tamburini was given a small gift to commemorate their 10th anniversary.
After dinner we were in the piazzetta once again, this time groups were forming to play burraco. I was surprised, and delighted, to see Antonella among those playing. She’s the best female player in the town. On the flipside I also saw Maria Giulia, widely recognized as the worst player in town. While I’d love to be paired with Antonella, how am I to say no to my cousin? So we sit across from one another while Antonella and Maria Elena are our opponents. I’ve played with Maria Elena plenty. She’s boisterous and not shy about talking to her partner about which cards should be played and where – a clear violation of the game. Time after time Maria Giulia makes poor plays, or gives our opponents points, and each time Antonella turns to me and shakes her head with a grimace. She sees everything and plays perfectly. We’re dispatched in no time all the while Maria Giulia chalks it up to bad luck.
That night in bed Cinzia asks how the game went. I recap the clever plays of Antonella and the clueless ones of my cousin. She says that I can’t even sleep with the cards still in my head and Maria Giulia’s terrible plays frustrating me all over again. The burraco tournament is tomorrow at 4pm. Maria Giulia wants to be my partner, but luckily it’s a random draw. Maybe the cards will fall my way.
After dinner we were in the piazzetta once again, this time groups were forming to play burraco. I was surprised, and delighted, to see Antonella among those playing. She’s the best female player in the town. On the flipside I also saw Maria Giulia, widely recognized as the worst player in town. While I’d love to be paired with Antonella, how am I to say no to my cousin? So we sit across from one another while Antonella and Maria Elena are our opponents. I’ve played with Maria Elena plenty. She’s boisterous and not shy about talking to her partner about which cards should be played and where – a clear violation of the game. Time after time Maria Giulia makes poor plays, or gives our opponents points, and each time Antonella turns to me and shakes her head with a grimace. She sees everything and plays perfectly. We’re dispatched in no time all the while Maria Giulia chalks it up to bad luck.
That night in bed Cinzia asks how the game went. I recap the clever plays of Antonella and the clueless ones of my cousin. She says that I can’t even sleep with the cards still in my head and Maria Giulia’s terrible plays frustrating me all over again. The burraco tournament is tomorrow at 4pm. Maria Giulia wants to be my partner, but luckily it’s a random draw. Maybe the cards will fall my way.