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Posts Tagged ‘Royal Enfield Bullet’

Benvenuto to all my New and Loyal Followers

Tomak on his beautiful Royal Enfield Bullet. Photo J Finnigan

Tomak on his beautiful Royal Enfield Bullet.
Photo J Finnigan

We are just driving into our local village of Fiano and our journey is slowed by the put-putting of a chap in front on an ancient motorbike.  “Gosh that bike looks old, but it sounds lovely, don’t you think?” I ask.  My man is still trying to slow down to the pace of life back home after a few hectic working days in London.  But suddenly he is showing enthusiasm, rather than impatience, as we follow the bike and it’s rider into the piazza and park.  We get out of the car and realise that the rider is our Polish friend Tomak, who is riding his treasured 1960’s Royal Enfield Bullet, which he had waxed lyrical about the last time we had seen him.  So, here it was, the bike had come down to Tuscany from Poland and over many years via India and England.  We greeted our friend and gazed lovingly at the wonderful motor, the leather seats on big springs and the big wheels.  Tomak was off to a nearby town called San Casciano for a rally of sorts, and was stopping for coffee.  Unfortunately, the electrics needed some work and when he tried to leave a little later, it would not start.  Half an hour later, we said our farewells, and left him to it, smiling all over his face and him saying “This is all part of the fun of owning a bike like this!”  Mind you, we have never seen Tomak without his enthusiastic grin.

A few days ago, at five thirty in the morning, I was awoken by a horrendous cat fight below the bedroom window.  Thinking it might be Farty Barty I rushed to the window and spotted big black Tom squared up to Barty, who had scrunched himself between a potted plant and the wall of the house.  Big Tom is a wild devil of a male cat in this area, and all the other cats run a mile when he turns up.  So I grabbed a hard backed diary, and using a discus action, I hurtled it at the nasty little devil.  Amazingly, I winged him and he rushed away, stopping to look back at me with an evil eye, before disappearing off to find another victim.  I rushed down and let Barty into the kitchen and he had tufts of loose fur sticking out all over him.  But what did he do, he went straight to his food bowl and started on an early morning breakfast!

Zero growth figures for Italy. Il Terreno.

Zero growth figures for Italy.
Il Terreno.

As in every other European country, Italy is gearing up for the European Election.  The village has a big row of posters and two of the candidates have a big black crosses over their faces.  I find this very odd; to we English it gives the impression that it has been crossed out.  But no, it is the Italians idea that if it has a cross over it, that’s the one you will most likely vote for!  Whoever gets in, will be representing the poor man of Europe, based on the latest growth figures, or rather the serious lack of growth, in fact a fall below zero……

Rose in our garden. Photo P Finnigan

Rose in our garden.
Photo P Finnigan

Meanwhile, back in Laura’s cafe bar/alimentari, Sig Rotund arrived with one lens missing from his glasses, which our Moroccan street seller was very pleased about.  Despite the fact that he had sold the cheap original pair to Sig Rotund in the first place, it meant the sale of another pair.  This is the only time you will see our street seller smile, otherwise he has a seriously hung-dog expression.   We are seeing a lot of tourists now in the bar and it takes all my restraint not to pipe up and say, “Do you need any help?”as they struggle with their lack of Italian.  “Don’t interfere,” my man whispers, “It’s all part of the holiday experience  for them, and its funny to watch.  Particularly when they go away with all the wrong purchases!” We go home to the villa and reflect, and sit on the upper terrace surrounded by the most beautiful roses.  Can anyone name this one?

My man then changed the subject and said, on his last visit to London, he had met a very influential PR lady in the film industry.  He gave her my author card for ‘My Father, The Assassin’ as she would like to sell the film rights.  Personally, I think the character of Dominic Francis would be perfect for Daniel Craig.  Watch this space……  Visit my author page at http://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan

Silvio greets his fans in Roma. photo Angelo Carconi/EPA

Back in the glamorous world of Silvio Berlusconi, SB was being interviewed by Italian Radio 24, where he likened himself to Pope Francis.  The interviewer Giovanni Minoli asked if SB liked the Pope -“Yes, I really like him, he acts as Pope in exactly the way I would act (as Pope)….” He remarked cheerfully.   “Does that mean that Francis is a good Pope because he is like you?” GM asked.  SB was quick to reply, “No, no; I am good because I resemble the Pope!”

Then on the subject of the candidates for the European party to represent Italy SB said, “I think Beppo Grillo is a danger to Italy as he is an aspiring dictator…..”  Oh dio, so SB considers himself to be Pope like creature who hates dictators.  I can just see him practicing walking across his swimming pool, balancing a wobbly halo on his head.  Keep up the entertainment value Silvio, we would hate to lose you to the real world.

Well, over to you.  I would love to receive your views and comments.  And , if you have read ‘My Father, The Assassin’  I would really appreciate a review on either or both Amazon and Goodreads.

It is my mother’s 90th birthday on Saturday so I will not be sending you a blog next weekend.  I’ll be off to Devon then Cornwall, for a visit.

Have a great week and see you in two weeks time.

Amore June x

 

 

 

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