Karavansara

East of Constantinople, West of Shanghai


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They could have shot you guys!

Yesterday’s microadventure was a great success. True, my legs feel like lead right now, but I’ve heard from a lot of people that would like to try something like that in these hills, I received suggestions and idea, and all in all it was quite beautiful, and fun.
Online.

Hereabouts reactions were a lot more conservative.
“You guys were lucky!” one of our neighbors said. “The hunting season’s open, they could have shot you guys!”
Much hilarity ensued, because I live in the kind of place in which your neighbors think it’d be a hoot should you get shot.
I also learned to some dismay that I evidently look like a boar in an aloha shirt.

And I mean…

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A one day vacation & microadventure, sorta

Contrary to my plans – I intended to stay at home and write – tomorrow I have to do some stuff in a couple of offices here in Nizza Monferrato, roughly 12 kilometers from where I live. It will mean spending the whole day out. The bit of bureaucracy I’m taking care of will require probably, say, half an hour, but there’s the small matter of my lack of an automobile.

The local bus might be a little tricky – the service’s been canceled or re-scheduled now that school’s out so that bus runs are not guaranteed.
As a solution, I’ll ask for a lift to a friend on her way to work, and I have already arranged with some other friends for a bite in the evening and then a lift back.
This means having the whole day to play at being a tourist in Nizza – fascinating market town as all readers of BUSCAFUSCO know, but de facto a one horse town, that you can cross on foot in half an hour.

So what?
Well, with my brother we’ve designed the day as a small vacation and microadventure – including street food, window-shopping, maybe some photos. We’ll also bring along thick paperbacks.
We’ll pretend we’re not Italians.
And I’ll have a notebook, to jot down ideas.
After all, what the heck, it’s summer, right?


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When holy souls get going

There’s a saying in the place where I grew up, “When the holy souls get going…”, that’s used to describe an unexpected bout of bad weather, especially when you have planned to go somewhere.
This is a play on the fact that saints should be accompanied by bright light and pleasant colors when they manifest – but you decided to go somewhere, and now it’s pouring, or snowing or something.

In the last 36 hours various parts of Piedmont were hit by hailstorms that left the streets choked with ice. And here in the Valley of the Belbo, black clouds have been piling up since early this morning.

“It was for tonight, right?” my brother asked, referring to our planned Microadventure.
“Tonight, yeah,” I said.
And it started raining like there was no tomorrow.

So, it’s for another night.
The plan is to do a circuit among the hills, on foot, leaving somewhere around 7 pm and walk up past the graveyard and the old chapel, and then up to the plateau where my family used to have some land. It’s only vineyards up there, but about six kms from the village is a country-style roadhouse/pub that’s open late into the night. The idea is to get there, have a bite and a drink, and then start down on the other side, finding a nice place to look at the stars and do some night photography, and then be back home by dawn.

But not tonight – it’s raining so much a couple of giraffes stopped by to ask for directions, and the road to the old chapel is a waterfall.
When holy souls get going…


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Summer solstice microadventure challenge

Today I had three revelations of sorts, three proper alarm signals ringing at the same time.
First, I realized that the deadline I had been dreading these last three days is actually still one month away.
Second, I realized the chapter 9 of the book I was to deliver “by Sunday morning, before lunch”, worked a lot better as chapter 5, but this meant doing some extensive rewrite.
Third, I realized it was actually Sunday, and not Saturday as I firmly believed. And yes, I realized it after lunch.

I spent the afternoon rewriting and am now quite satisfied with the end result. I’ll give the manuscript one last check and fine tuning (no more chapter juggling!) after dinner, and then I’ll send it along.
Meanwhile, I also decided that I need to take my mind off writing for a few hours or days, or I’ll have to face a definitive meltdown of what’s left of my mental faculties.

And in a snap, an opportunity presented itself for a brief vacation, and a proper adventure to boot!

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