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ITALY 2004
Tour of Umbria and Tuscany
and the visit by il Baluardo
A to Z of Italy
2004
A is for Audiences: the American
lady who “thought she’d gone to heaven” at Cortona,
the German couple who returned a second time, to hear Schubert’s Sanctus,
the café customers in the square at Castigliano del Lago; and for
Agnus Dei and acoustics and applause and aching calf muscles and Autumn Leaves and April
is in my Mistress’ Face.
B is for Black: a crocodile of choristers winding through
the streets of Siena en route to the Duomo for early Mass in full
black “concert kit”. And for bells ringing
out in the middle of Shenandoah in Montepulciano, and beer, cold and lots of it and the great
Basilica at Assisi
and large blue hats
and birthdays and bum bags and bandannas and balconies usually draped with
bras and bikinis.
C is for carrots, cooked, cold and served with melon,
and for the coach, a cool haven for hot sightseers, and Cortona where we nearly spent the night thanks
to all the illegally parked cars; and
croissants, ready jammed
and coffee (we broke all records
for coffee consumption)
at the Hotel Cavalieri
and conversation, and cameras and the great Campo in Siena.
D is for dogs, guarding the approaches to the hotel,
barking early and late, and eager to show solidarity during the last
night concert by contributing music of their own, and for the Duomo in Siena, towering over us, dwarfing
us “in our small corner” opposite the solitary signora whose face lit
up when we joined in the Alleluia.
E is for the echo, wonderful but challenging, at Montepulciano.
We adapted, with longer pauses to let the previous chords fade. And
the dear camp-followers insisted we were “much better than the big professional
Hungarian choir who performed before us”; embarkation
cards and lots of eating and our fair share of elegance and even élan.
F is for fruit salad (tinned) and flip-flops and Fa
Una Canzona (be honest - does anyone get all the words right?)
and families and frescoes at Arezzo, and everywhere! And farmsteads, red-roofed, encircled by shady
trees.
G is for gorges, thickly forested and stormswept
on the outward journey, and Medieval grandeur.
H is for heat, especially in the region of the
feet, from walking up all those hills; heaps of history, handsome Italians, hilarity.
I is for ice-creams, luscious and Italian ideas of time, especially meal time.
J is for Justorum Animae, floating up into vaulted roofs,
and orange juice (only it was red) and,
of course, Jemma.
K is for kebabs fit for a king one evening, and kisses on both cheeks.
L is for luggage, hurled from a great height,
and lightning across the
lake, and a longing to learn the language.
M is for the island
of Maggiore, maps, miniature
pears and mozzarella, music and
Michele; money for
the final meal available in
the emergency fund. Marvellous!
N is for balmy nights (often barmy too) and long naves and nice nibbles
at the bar (even at 4 am).
O is for Orvieto, spectacular and elegant on its
high rocky eminence and its unique escalators and funicular railway; for
olive groves and tourist
information offices (often uninformative).
P is for Passignano, (you can’t miss it if you keep
the Esso Garage on your right), with its shady prom, pleasure
boat, pottery shops;
and for the pink book, and postcards and pizzas
and Pike; for
the pool, popular from pre-breakfast to post-dinner,
and pasta and Perugia where we were to sing Mass
at 4, but then it was 6, and we were to give a concert at 8, but why
not 7? The Valentine Singers are nothing if not adaptable. And the audience
was the biggest of the tour, 150 or so at its peak – people drifted in
and out, more in than out.
Q is for queues at Gatwick airport, several just
for fun! before we got to the right one, and quiet
shade for the book readers.
R is for rhythm (we’ve got it) and rehearsals and large rubber rings.
S is for saints on ceilings and sponge cake at breakfast and sun oil and sweat
and swimming and
shopping for souvenirs and songs
saucily rewritten and sung to
shrieks of laughter.
T is for Trasimeno, mysterious and misty, and
trains belting past
and tables set with white damask
each evening, Tito and the
towers of San Gimignano and tiles, red, often viewed from a great height;
and Tuscany with its dark
cypress trees like needles in the landscape.
U is for Umbria, dramatic scenery, umbrellas (occasionally necessary), and for
getting undressed (and dressed)
in semi-darkness, in confined places, in a hurry and in public.
V is for views, breath-taking, from almost every
venue including the Hotel Cavalieri and for the Valentine Singers (Bravo!)
and voices, solo or in harmony
and the verandah for long,
leisurely breakfasts (vanilla
custard one morning!)
W is for wine without which – well – what woe!
X is for Xtra pasta, mounds of it, on offer every
evening. (Can you come up with something better?)
Y is for the yellow fields of sunflowers, the youthful members of the party, yoghurt and your
turn to buy the drinks.
Z if for zigzagging up the steep approaches to all the
towns and for the pillars and outer walls of Siena and Orvieto Cathedrals,
convenient camouflage for zebras. (See
brackets at X.)
DN
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Freely adapted by Andrew Taylor August 2004
Fa una canzona, Hotel Cavalieri
Fa una canzona, Hotel Cavalieri
Here where the staff are really rather scary!
Tito's a joker, Luana will poke yer
As for Pikey, as for Pikey, the less that's said the better
The pool lay blue below the bar, Bloooooooooooooooo
I got carrots with my melon
I got cold veg, who could ask for anything more.
I got goat's cheese, mozarella
I got tinned fruit, who could ask for anything more, more, more!!
They asked me how I knew when it was my cue,
I of course replied, something was implied
When Christine shouted EYES!
Panic is in our mistress' face
And fear in her eyes hath place
The sops have gone flat
The altos don't look
And the men all sing like blocks of wood
But in her heart she knows we done good
The old pink book sits on the shelf at last
If you want any more you can sing it yourself
Amen
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