Being back in Hay

It’s been three years since I was last at the Hay Fetival. It’s nice to be back and it certainly helps that the weather is good. I’ve been seeing a lot of people that I know and it’s been good to chat with them over a coffee/pimms/beer/whatever.

Everyone seems genuinely pleased to see me.

Everyone seems to know about V & I splitting so there is the usual start to the conversation proper, where they are unsure as to what to say about it, but once I explain that we’re still friends and that, although I have custody of the boys, V is looking after them whilst I am here, they are much more relaxed about it.

I’ve been to one event today and will, probably, try to go to another later this afternoon, if I can drag Best Mate down there. I’ve hardly had anything to drink – just been talking, really.

Still, if Best Mate comes down, I feel a couple of beers coming on……….

Finally – we’re back!

Hurrah! We’re back. And I say “we” meaning me and a “guest” poster. This will be revealed in the near future (but it isn’t V who, to be frank, shows little interest in the blogging thing).

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Dancing in the street; “The best espresso this side of Milan”

More on our trip to the UK.

I have mentioned this before but it was particularly noticeable as I haven’t been back to the UK for a while.

People here, in Milan (and maybe the whole of Italy), walk just like they drive. There is no forward planning and manoeuvres are made at the last minute and only if absolutely necessary. Except that, the difference between people and cars is that, if you bump into another car with your vehicle there will be a lot of time spent sorting out the insurance; shouting and screaming at each other with a lot of gesturing; many years of paying extra for your insurance.

Bumping into people does not cause any of those things. So, as a result, people manoeuvre a lot less when walking and there is a lot of bumping. And, more importantly for the people from the UK – no apologising!

Whilst in the Scottish city, we had spent a couple of hours walking round the shops and dancing in the street – by that, I mean the little two-step dance whilst trying to avoid other people.

I asked V if he had noticed that, in all the time we had been walking, not once had anyone so much as brushed past us. He replied that he hadn’t but that now I had mentioned it, it was true. It was so pleasant. I must admit that, having been here for almost 4 years now, I no longer apologise when bumped into or even when I bump into someone else. It has taken all this time and a great deal of personal resolve to stop saying ‘sorry’. There is a way of walking here that means head up, stare straight ahead, ignore the fact that the person is approaching you without any intention of moving slightly out of your way and, if they are much bigger than you, only move slightly to one side at the very last possible moment. If there is any physical contact, whatever you do, DO NOT say ‘sorry’ – after all, it’s their fault for being in your way.

But it was so nice to stroll around without having bruises at the end!

I did drink a lot of tea whilst there and it was very, very nice. But I did miss the Italian coffee. So, whilst out, we saw a Café Nero and decided to go in and have the ‘real Italian coffee’ that they purported to sell.

Of course, here, a café latte is not taken so often and, certainly, is not as big as the Café Nero ‘regular’ let alone ‘large’. However, we were in the UK so a large café latte seemed in order.

Maybe it’s the water; or the coffee; or the milk – whatever it was, it did not make it particularly nice. And I very much doubt (although I didn’t try it, so I can’t be sure) that their espresso is not the best this side of Milan. After all, we have quite an area of Italy between Milan and the French border and, I can assure you, coffee in any part of Italy is superb.

I do remember that, when we still had the flat in Hay and returned to help out at the festival 3 years ago, we brought our moka back with us along with a supply of coffee so that we could make our morning fix.

Slippery Water and Towels

I know it’s not just me. S agreed with me. Well not about the slippery water but that’s because she comes from the Hay area where the water is soft anyway.

So the first time I used the water in the hotel room to wash, the water was weird. I must be so used to the crap water in Milan that here, in Segovia, I find it a strange feeling using this soft water.

But, far worse, and this was where S agreed with me, the towels were slippy. It was like drying yourself with brown, waxed paper. No absorbency.

I have found over the last few days that it is best to use the first towel to wipe the water from you and use the second one to try to wipe off the dampness that remains. Plus, my room is so bloody hot in the morning. So after a shower, within 5 minutes I feel I need another one. But it is cold here in the evening and morning, for certain.

I also learnt, today, that the taxi will pick me up at 3 a.m. so that I can get my flight at 6.30 a.m! And then, when I arrive in Milan I shall be going to work until at least 6 p.m. It’s going to be a very, very long day. I may not be doing much, if I can help it, tomorrow.

Segovia or bust!

Well, here I am at another literary festival. This one is one run by the Hay Festival but in Segovia, near Madrid.

To get here I had, what I can only describe as the journey from hell which I would hope to post about later, when I have more time. However, there was a point (probably after we had been sitting on the tarmac for over an hour) when I really thought I wouldn’t get here this side of Christmas!

I arrived in Segovia at about 1.30 a.m. this morning. Had a few beers with S, got to bed about 3.30 a.m. and was up at 8 to be at the Box Office for 10.

So, we have the normal problems with the Box Office (people picking the wrong events, tickets not having arrived, leaving their tickets at home, etc.) plus the added joy of everything being in a foreign language – and I’m a little tired.

However, unlike Hay, we closed the Box Office for a whole hour for lunch; I was interviewed by some Spanish television company; the sun is shining; and we are likely to finish the Box Office before midnight.

Also I have met some lovely people already, including some Italians who are helping out here. It’s quite nice to talk to them and they are very sweet. They are ‘stage’ (like an unpaid apprentice) in Madrid for one of the Festival organiser’s husband.

I am, of course, stuck in the Tourist Information centre here, which is where we have our system set up.

I’ve just been interrupted by a lady trying to find out how to work her video camera. Obviously, being the TIC, they are supposed to be able to answer any sort of question. Aren’t people strange?

We have a firework display this evening to mark the opening of the Festival in Segovia and I will, hopefully, see some of it.

More later…

In Conversation with Christopher Hitchens

Mantova, Festivaletteratura.- The last Sunday.

Peter Florence (Hay Festival) was there and we spent some pleasant hours with him on Friday and Saturday. He was doing a couple of the events, interviewing some people. But, from the moment that I looked at the site, Christopher Hitchens was the one event that I was not going to miss. It was just after lunch on the final day. Peter was going to be interviewing him (rather him than me). We hadn’t seen Peter since late on Saturday night (after my experience of playing chess with Boris). We got up late, wandered around town for a bit and, as we were travelling back to Milan later, decided that a proper lunch would be a good thing. We went to Griffone Bianco, our favourite restaurant in Mantova

Obviously it was busy – very busy. However, this year, M had bought us (with L from Hay and Juan Hose from Spain) a meal there on the Thursday night and when she was paying I went up to remonstrate with her about her paying the bill and was introduced to the guy behind the desk, who runs the place, and she was telling me they were great friends.

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Peter Florence as King?

I found this the other day and it amused me, so I thought I would share it:

If Peter Florence ran the British government, then the entire Whitehall bureaucracy would be pared down to about four blokes and a pencil sharpener. On the upside, Britain would enjoy an amazingly vibrant cultural life; on the downside, bad things would sometimes happen, like forgetting where we put the Royal Navy or losing the Isle of Wight”

Lifted from Toasting Napoleon.