Monday, 31 August 2009

Last night of the carnival.





Just as we were turning in for the night the whole valley shook with a series of very,very loud explosions. It was the last night of the carnival. Promptly at 11.56 pm (or midnight according to the village clock) the week of festivities came to its long anticipated culmination with a ten minute barrage of tricolore green,white and red pyrotechnics each generating at the apex of its ascent an earth shattering explosion. The laws governing firework manufacture must be quite different in Italy for these were not the half hearted exhalations of British maroons but deep basso profundo roars that carried for miles. The effect seen, and heard, from our little hill 2 kilometres away was as much martial as it was entertaining. That said, for a small village the display was really rather impressive and would put to shame many displays that I've seen in British towns with populations 100 times greater. Wilf, bless him, oblivious to everything slept happily through it all but Digby, being the shy retiring type emitted exasperated groans from under the bed. If a dog could be heard invoking divine protection then it was Digby. This morning the village had the same maudlin air as Edinburgh at the close of the festival - the deserted square seemed to be saying the fun and frippery are behind us,now back to work.
Italian politics become ever more entertaining. Sgr.Berlusconi , the Prime Minister, had hoped to go to a mass of absolution to expiate his alleged misdemenaours with underage starlets and a string of 'professional' ladies. Sadly for him the presiding Cardinal deemed that the presence of the PM in church would have been somewhat inappropriate.
And to think that Bill Clinton was nearly impeached for his activities!
I sometimes wonder what a seriously clever, flawlessly ethical and fiercely independent woman like Frau Merkel, the German Chancellor, must think of her Italian counterpart.Perhaps the sign of a great politician is being able to hide your feelings.

3 comments:

MAX said...

mmm...Fireworks and politics seemingly go together?!
We hate the former more than the latter! Our poor pooches, unlike yours, are frantic when these things happen...and they call it 'celebration'. Here in South Africa, where every household is like a prison, some animals impale themselves on palasade fences in their futile attempts to escape the loud bangs. At New year, our SPCA's are packed with stray animals who, as a result of peoples' attempts to 'celebrate', became seriously disorientated.
Having said all that, I suppose I could agree that politics is smattered with loud bangs, pointless fireworks and a nation which reals in disorientation.
mmmm...quite a thought!
Have a super day!
MAXDOG IN SOUTH AFRICA

♥Da fambly cat-a-blog kitties♥ said...

Oh, there are bad politicians wherever you look. You just have to look deep enough and there they are.

With all that noise I know a couple of dogs and cats that would all be trying to get onto my lap☺

Pamela Terry and Edward said...

We tolerate fireworks here. None too happy, but none too frightened either.

I find your PM quite entertaining, but of course I am watching him from afar. Closer up I would, no doubt, want to pop him on the nose.