Wednesday 22 June 2011- I eat my breakfast as Aussie band Operator Please play Other Song. It’s a real scorcher of a day and I decide to take a trip into Casoli to see if I can get an Italian sim card there. The drive is pleasant, as I wind my way up through the lanes. I don’t park near the school, like the last time I was here. There are cars parked outside, but the locals know they have to move them before the school buses arrive. I didn’t and it resulted in a parking ticket. I park a little higher up, then have to shimmy across to get out of the passenger door. The trials and tribulations of a right hand drive in a left hand country.
It’s very hot today, and this makes trudging uphill a chore. I stop and take in the view, it’s glorious.. A simple sign outside a butchers makes me smile, it’s succinct, yet conveys it’s message perfectly. Just two words, ‘oggi coniglio’, (today rabbit).
I spot a mobile phone shop, but continue my stroll in Casoli, and find the public swimming baths, here modern buildings are nestled alongside small patches of farmed land, I pass a patch of land with chickens scratching around in the dirt, and from the car park I see vegetables lovingly laid out in lines. The view up to the castle from here is breath taking on such a nice day. When it comes time to walk back to find the shop again, it’s all uphill.
At the shop the man behind the counter asks me if I’m English, I say yes and he tries out his grasp of the language. “Are you a good morning?”, I respond in the affirmative. “What is it you look for?” I explain that I want a sim card for my iPhone. He sucks his teeth then rummages through a drawer, his assistant tells him there’s only one card left. This leaves me to wonder why they’re so thin on the ground? Holding the card aloft he beams and comes back to the counter. “iPhone, (pronounced E-phone) é troppo caro.” (iPhone is very expensive). He puts the card on the counter top and shows me the costs of the calls and texts. “No people many in village can afford these phones.” he says then asks me if mine is ‘trapped’? I assume by trapped he means locked, I tell him it’s not, and after filling in a form, having my drivers licence photocopied and my tax code noted, I’m ten euros lighter but with an Italian sim card in my pocket.
As the heat begins to diminish, I water my tomatoes and onions, before making my dinner. Isis, by Yeah Yeah Yeah’s plays and I make a basil and caper pasta sauce, which I have with pasta and chopped up spicy sausage. Looks like my cookery affliction has passed.
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