As I mentioned in my previous post, this past week I accompanied my host family to the beach! We went to a resort called Bibione on the Adriatic coast for the week. I was pretty worried before going because after 2 weeks in Italy, I'd settled into a good routine with the girls of helping them with homework and chatting with them in English during the mornings and watching a film or drawing pictures in the afternoons. I was anxious that on holiday they wouldn't be interested in doing homework/ English stuff with me and would just want to do holiday stuff, which is exactly what I would do if I were in their situation! This did happen to a certain extent with the 7 year old, but I quickly got into a good routine with the 11 year old. We did an hour or two of word games after lunch and then taught each other card games in the evenings to learn some new vocab. One of our new favourites is Happy Families, although "Mr. Sole the Fishmonger" caused problems in that "sole" is the Italian word for "sun" and is pronounced "sohlay."
It was a strange feeling to be in a holiday park but "working" at the same time, however on the whole it was a lovely week :)
The resort seemed to be the preferred holiday destination of half the German population. To the point where I actually picked up some very basic German! Der Fischmarkt ist am Mittwoch. Ja. I even had someone start talking to me in what I presume was German, although I can't be sure as there were also many Dutch, Polish, Slovenian and Czech people floating about. I suppose the curly blond hair, blue eyes and horrifically pale skin (the tan is yet to make an appearance) don't exactly give off an air of Italianness (Yes, I've resorted to making up words, this is how bad my English has become in the last few weeks.)
I never understood when people said that they have a favourite ocean. I always thought all seas were the same. But the Adriatic really is beautiful, and on a clear day we could see the Trieste mountains and even Croatia in the distance!
The weather turned "brutto" for a couple of days, but it was a relief to have a break from the humidity and we made the most of it by going for a long bike ride along the beach :)
It may seem strange, but I've discovered that one of the best ways to cope with the heat here is to listen to Christmas music! I challenge you to listen to this song and feel summery:
On Sunday we went for a trip to the countryside to see my host Mum's family at their farmhouse. It was a wonderful way to spend a Sunday and really gave me the experience of a typical Italian get together where lunch lasts for 3 hours and everyone sits outside playing cards, chasing chickens and playing on a makeshift swing in the garden. Think of the Dolmio advert and you'll have a pretty good idea of it. I even ate stinging nettle lasagna! I thought it was spinach at first so tucked right in and it was only halfway through that the dictionary was cracked open by the cook and I was informed as to it's true contents! It was actually very tasty, but most of all it was a horrifically bright shade of green.
Being at a family gathering meant there were inevitably going to be greetings and the social etiquette which surrounds them to deal with. I thought I'd mastered the Italian cheek kissing greeting (two kisses, starting with the left cheek.) But I was thrown when someone greeted me with two and said goodbye with three. There is obviously some strange code that I'm as yet unaware of...
On the subject of mealtimes, dinner here is late. I was expecting this before coming out here but seriously even with the time difference putting you lot in England an hour behind me, you're probably finishing dinner before we've even started to prepare! I don't mind because it makes sense not to be cooking in the heat that still lingers around in early evening, but it must get tiring in the winter eating several hours after it's got dark.
My host family have asked me to cook them a classic British dish this week for dinner. This terrifies me to the core because none of the stuff I cook for myself at home is really very British. Despite my love of all things food industry and nutrition related, the only things I can confidently cook from scratch to any kind of acceptable quality are chocolate brownies, couscous, vegetable curry and spaghetti Bolognese. The couscous is out because we had that this evening and I was the only one who enjoyed it and made it through a whole portion without declaring that it was "schifo". The curry is out because I doubt there is a shop that sells coconut milk or tikka masala paste this side of the Alps. And the Bolognese is out for obvious reasons. On top of this dish being British, it also has to be gluten-free, safe enough to please a fussy 7 year old and be possible to make without the use of a microwave. I think I might do baked potatoes or cottage pie but they would be horrific to make with the current temperature hovering in the high 20s so if anyone has any better suggestions, please make yourself known to me asap!
On the subject of food, one of the highlights of the holiday for me was going to a "Europarty". This involved all the people staying at the resort being invited to go to a field and sit on long picnic tables under grape vines while eating huge bowls of spaghetti and listening to Italian jazz music. The kids' entertainment involved the most cockney rendition of the hokey cokey ever recorded being played over the loudspeakers resulting in a very strange contrast of surrounding and music!
Being here has made me realise how un-European Britain really is. As well as the Europarty, we walked around a "Europamercato" on our last day in Bibione. It promised stalls from all the various European countries, but I was disappointed to discover that Britain wasn't represented. Ireland was however, in the form of a stall dedicated to selling Guinness merchandise. Hearing Irish people speak Italian has to be one of the strangest yet most pleasing sounds it is possible to hear!
Cutest moment of the week was courtesy of the 7 year old. The other members of the family were talking about their relatives who live "giu". Giu means down, and they were talking about the south of Italy, but the 7 year old was sitting there with a fascinated look on her face and eventually asked "Do our relatives really live underground?" At least I'm not the only one who gets confused by the language!
Thank you all so much for continuing to read my blog! I'll be back with another post later in the week :)
Much Love, Alice x
On Sunday we went for a trip to the countryside to see my host Mum's family at their farmhouse. It was a wonderful way to spend a Sunday and really gave me the experience of a typical Italian get together where lunch lasts for 3 hours and everyone sits outside playing cards, chasing chickens and playing on a makeshift swing in the garden. Think of the Dolmio advert and you'll have a pretty good idea of it. I even ate stinging nettle lasagna! I thought it was spinach at first so tucked right in and it was only halfway through that the dictionary was cracked open by the cook and I was informed as to it's true contents! It was actually very tasty, but most of all it was a horrifically bright shade of green.
Being at a family gathering meant there were inevitably going to be greetings and the social etiquette which surrounds them to deal with. I thought I'd mastered the Italian cheek kissing greeting (two kisses, starting with the left cheek.) But I was thrown when someone greeted me with two and said goodbye with three. There is obviously some strange code that I'm as yet unaware of...
On the subject of mealtimes, dinner here is late. I was expecting this before coming out here but seriously even with the time difference putting you lot in England an hour behind me, you're probably finishing dinner before we've even started to prepare! I don't mind because it makes sense not to be cooking in the heat that still lingers around in early evening, but it must get tiring in the winter eating several hours after it's got dark.
My host family have asked me to cook them a classic British dish this week for dinner. This terrifies me to the core because none of the stuff I cook for myself at home is really very British. Despite my love of all things food industry and nutrition related, the only things I can confidently cook from scratch to any kind of acceptable quality are chocolate brownies, couscous, vegetable curry and spaghetti Bolognese. The couscous is out because we had that this evening and I was the only one who enjoyed it and made it through a whole portion without declaring that it was "schifo". The curry is out because I doubt there is a shop that sells coconut milk or tikka masala paste this side of the Alps. And the Bolognese is out for obvious reasons. On top of this dish being British, it also has to be gluten-free, safe enough to please a fussy 7 year old and be possible to make without the use of a microwave. I think I might do baked potatoes or cottage pie but they would be horrific to make with the current temperature hovering in the high 20s so if anyone has any better suggestions, please make yourself known to me asap!
On the subject of food, one of the highlights of the holiday for me was going to a "Europarty". This involved all the people staying at the resort being invited to go to a field and sit on long picnic tables under grape vines while eating huge bowls of spaghetti and listening to Italian jazz music. The kids' entertainment involved the most cockney rendition of the hokey cokey ever recorded being played over the loudspeakers resulting in a very strange contrast of surrounding and music!
Being here has made me realise how un-European Britain really is. As well as the Europarty, we walked around a "Europamercato" on our last day in Bibione. It promised stalls from all the various European countries, but I was disappointed to discover that Britain wasn't represented. Ireland was however, in the form of a stall dedicated to selling Guinness merchandise. Hearing Irish people speak Italian has to be one of the strangest yet most pleasing sounds it is possible to hear!
Cutest moment of the week was courtesy of the 7 year old. The other members of the family were talking about their relatives who live "giu". Giu means down, and they were talking about the south of Italy, but the 7 year old was sitting there with a fascinated look on her face and eventually asked "Do our relatives really live underground?" At least I'm not the only one who gets confused by the language!
Thank you all so much for continuing to read my blog! I'll be back with another post later in the week :)
Much Love, Alice x
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