Gubbio, by chance

ciao ragazzi,

now that my bearings are straight, let me say that children are exhausting. adorable, especially when they switch from perfect British English to rapid-fire Italian at the drop of a hat...but exhausting nevertheless.

Friday dawned bright and sunny and we took the children off to a school (a luxury I will have only a week longer) and I went with Honor (the children's mum) to the Italian equivalent of a Sam's. We bought 500 Euro worth of food for the hotel and somehow managed to fit it in the car. Off to the hotel and then I went onto Gubbio, a town about which I have heard quite a lot (but I had not yet seen).

Marco is a Roman who works at the hotel. I make the distinction because he does; being Roman is very different from being Italian. He is a musician (waiter by day) and he knew of an Argentinian luthier in Gubbio (yes, I know this sounds made up) who would be able to mend my broken guitar (and heart - like Mr. Fix-it - do you remember that children's book?). Anyhow, off he whisked me, driving faster than Roberto had a few days earlier. Every so often he would hit the gas around a curve, purring and petting the dashboard, muttering "che bella macchina!" Oh Dio!

So we made it to Gubbio, by way of the prettiest drive I have ever been on. Central Umbria is really quite deserted and undeveloped. It is all dark green and gray and dotted with occasional half-crumbling farmhouses. The missing windows and missing doors make for these lovely passageways for light to shine through, so the houses seemed to twinkle as we flew past. Gubbio itself was actually quite pretty, though our stay was less than an hour. It is sort of a gray, rocky outcropping on the side of a mountain. Interesting. Anyhow, Carlos says he can fix my guitar, though I am entirely and completely doubtful. You would be too if you had held the jagged pieces in your sad little hands. Anyhow, I should hear from Carlos in 10 days, and I then I will come either running or crying here to tell you the whole sad or happy tale.

On a happier note, I got my bags last night at 11:30 pm. It had been 3 days in the same clothes, more or less, so I can't express to you my joy at seeing my wrinkled clothes, all crammed happily in my giant backpack. Everything is put away now and all is right in my tiny little room. I even took out the video camera today and tried to take a video of the drive up to the hotel, but the road is so dreadfully unpaved that I am not sure you can watch the video without a bout of Blair Witch coming upon you.

Allora, I must go. I still haven't had gelato, if you can believe it. And I am going to Castiglion on Monday, but drat, that is the day that Coco Palm is closed. Of all the luck.
Don't forget to write and to sign the guestbook on my website! It looks very lonely right now. I know that hundreds of you have the CD...and only two have written? I will cry myself to sleep.
love to you all,
vanessa

And because some of you have asked, you can write to me at:
Palazzo Terranova
Roc. Lonti
Morra
06010 Perugia
Italy

I swear it is a complete address, though I realize it doesn't look right at all. Ciao!