old Freddy had stayed at a religious place overnight but then they'd kicked him out the next morning despite Sunday being his usual day of rest. so he walked to Robbio and had ended up, rather obviously, in the same dorm as me. we only chatted a little as the fiesta was in full swing. the narrow cobbled streets were all penned off with rope, chairs lining both sides, and not only the whole village but lots of the surrounding villages seemed to be crowded into the narrow pathways and alleys. on the stroke of 4pm the chruch bells rang and the whole crowd roared. an annoucer then spent an indeterminable amount of time talking through something before a little rickshaw pootled its way around the corner containing a big fat opera singer. the crowd went mad and Ms Big Op tried to do a regal wave but with the combination of little rickshaw and many cobbles it just looked like she had a bad case of parkinsons. off she went trundling down the street, clambered out onto a platform and then belted the whole village over the head with a voice so strong i swear the bells in the church tower packed up and went home in defeat. after Ms Big Op a group of young kids came along dressed in pleasant outfits (huge roar) followed by a convoy of bicycles with guys riding and girls dressed up in other peasant outfits perched on handlebars whacking wooden shoes together so the air was filled with the sound of clapping wood. after this there were a few more kids dressed up, then some women in 19th century big dresses (i suspect they'd raided Ms Big Op's wardrobe whilst she was on the rickshaw), then there was a kind of bread-themed entry with lots of bread being carried around of all different sizes followed by a big man made of big loaves. Ms Big Op was licking her lips. 
a few more entries followed of various different traditional outfits before it got to the finale which was about 6 teams of 3 guys in each who had to race round the village with a hugely heavy sack on a one-wheeled cart that they had to push in front of them. of course on the cobbled streets this was extra-hard. i'm not a big sports fan and really haven't been able to engage with watching any kind of competition but my heart was in my mouth watching them and when the eventual winner came round the last bend and ran for the line the crowd roared, my heart lept into my mouth and the whole village went crazy. it was quite something. the 3 guys who'd won were crying their eyes out (being italian, naturally) and i did think that this was a moment in their lives that they'd always, always remember. after that there was a big communal rissotto being cooked (alas it contained meat) & Ms Big Op was busy wrestling Bread Man to the ground so Freddy and i went for a beer and then for something to eat. the italians as well all know like to eat and eat well but the sheer volume of food sometimes does me in. you start with an entree, move onto the first course (pasta), then a second (pizza), then dessert and a digestive (usually grappa) and then coffee. i get to pasta and give up. its all delicious of course but its just too much. on this night i decided to give it a go and Freddy and i sat back and chewed the cud. due to my work in developing countries i've worked a lot with religious orders and am quite used to the way they think, even if i don't think it myself and so we engaged in debate about the current state of the Catholic church - the paedophia scandals, women priests, the dying church in the West and the growth in Africa and the East. without going into enormous detail i felt sad for Freddie. he was against women Priests for not a lot of good reason (there isn't any) yet couldn't see his own blindness or prejudice. the paedophia scandal had affected him as his Bishop in Belgium was the one who had to resign recently due to abusing his own nephew and Freddy said that some kids at a school he'd been teaching had even called him a paed. i didn't like to say that the church had brought it on itself and, in some ways, the way it treated people you had to wonder why some members of the church hadn't been arrested (some had in Belgium). the saddest thing about Freddy wasn't any of this though, it was the fact that his brother had committed suicide 2 months ago at the age of 22. he'd been involved with an older woman and that'd gone wrong. he'd then got engaged and his finance ditched him a week before the wedding and then his third girlfriend told him he was moving too fast. he then texted 2 friends who suspected something was up and they raced to his flat to find that he'd slit his wrists and had hanged himeself. he was still alive at this point and when the ambulance arrived they managed to stablise him and got him into the ambulance itself. they strapped him in but couldn't handcuff him as he had slit wrists. then on the way to the hospital he managed to get the straps off his legs and threw himself out the back of the ambulance as it was travelling at 90km/hr. he died instantly. there wasn't a lot i could say really. i knew from my work that this would affect his whole life. i just hoped that he'd be able to make some sense of it later on once the rawness had gone, but that wouldn't be for a long, long time.
drunk, yet feeling rather sober, it seemed a good time for bed.
the next morning came quickly, interupted throughout the night by the sound of the church bells that kept going off every hour right above our heads. my feet were still in a lot of pain so it seemed as if a short 15km walk would again be the order of the day. i checked my schedule to Rome and calculated that if i walked 30km a day from tomorrow then i'd still have 3 days to spare - so i had some flexibility which was great as it turned out i needed it. walking for the first hour was very uncomfotable. just putting my feet into my boots was like sticking them into a bag of hot nails but i knew that if i could just get them to the numb stage then i could keep going and thats what i did. the countryside seemed to be empty of people as Freddy and i trekked on - the wheat and rice fields seemed to be thinning and the sky was slightly cloudy which was great for walking as you don't get burnt to a crisp. the day went by quickly and as we only walked for 3-4 hours we quickly reached Mortala which is a smallish town in Lombardy which we've just crossed into. Freddy and i tried a religious hostel but it was closed due to my inability to now walk i said to him that i had to book into a hotel and we said a second goodbye as he went off to to local church to get some sanctuary there. the hotel i'd booked into was just fantastic - a lovely owner, great rooms and lovely food so i felt refreshed (http://www.ilcuuc.it/) . i was going to get up early and start off towards the next town but i decided to take a rest day instead and this was lucky as it turned out as this is the first day its rained ... which has enabled me to catch up on blogs, emails, haircuts and blister care. tomorrow i hit the road again - who knows what adventures lie ahead but one thing i do know is that i won't feel bad to go back to Australia now the election results have been sorted out. maybe Freddy was right - there is a God after all.
a few more entries followed of various different traditional outfits before it got to the finale which was about 6 teams of 3 guys in each who had to race round the village with a hugely heavy sack on a one-wheeled cart that they had to push in front of them. of course on the cobbled streets this was extra-hard. i'm not a big sports fan and really haven't been able to engage with watching any kind of competition but my heart was in my mouth watching them and when the eventual winner came round the last bend and ran for the line the crowd roared, my heart lept into my mouth and the whole village went crazy. it was quite something. the 3 guys who'd won were crying their eyes out (being italian, naturally) and i did think that this was a moment in their lives that they'd always, always remember. after that there was a big communal rissotto being cooked (alas it contained meat) & Ms Big Op was busy wrestling Bread Man to the ground so Freddy and i went for a beer and then for something to eat. the italians as well all know like to eat and eat well but the sheer volume of food sometimes does me in. you start with an entree, move onto the first course (pasta), then a second (pizza), then dessert and a digestive (usually grappa) and then coffee. i get to pasta and give up. its all delicious of course but its just too much. on this night i decided to give it a go and Freddy and i sat back and chewed the cud. due to my work in developing countries i've worked a lot with religious orders and am quite used to the way they think, even if i don't think it myself and so we engaged in debate about the current state of the Catholic church - the paedophia scandals, women priests, the dying church in the West and the growth in Africa and the East. without going into enormous detail i felt sad for Freddie. he was against women Priests for not a lot of good reason (there isn't any) yet couldn't see his own blindness or prejudice. the paedophia scandal had affected him as his Bishop in Belgium was the one who had to resign recently due to abusing his own nephew and Freddy said that some kids at a school he'd been teaching had even called him a paed. i didn't like to say that the church had brought it on itself and, in some ways, the way it treated people you had to wonder why some members of the church hadn't been arrested (some had in Belgium). the saddest thing about Freddy wasn't any of this though, it was the fact that his brother had committed suicide 2 months ago at the age of 22. he'd been involved with an older woman and that'd gone wrong. he'd then got engaged and his finance ditched him a week before the wedding and then his third girlfriend told him he was moving too fast. he then texted 2 friends who suspected something was up and they raced to his flat to find that he'd slit his wrists and had hanged himeself. he was still alive at this point and when the ambulance arrived they managed to stablise him and got him into the ambulance itself. they strapped him in but couldn't handcuff him as he had slit wrists. then on the way to the hospital he managed to get the straps off his legs and threw himself out the back of the ambulance as it was travelling at 90km/hr. he died instantly. there wasn't a lot i could say really. i knew from my work that this would affect his whole life. i just hoped that he'd be able to make some sense of it later on once the rawness had gone, but that wouldn't be for a long, long time.drunk, yet feeling rather sober, it seemed a good time for bed.
the next morning came quickly, interupted throughout the night by the sound of the church bells that kept going off every hour right above our heads. my feet were still in a lot of pain so it seemed as if a short 15km walk would again be the order of the day. i checked my schedule to Rome and calculated that if i walked 30km a day from tomorrow then i'd still have 3 days to spare - so i had some flexibility which was great as it turned out i needed it. walking for the first hour was very uncomfotable. just putting my feet into my boots was like sticking them into a bag of hot nails but i knew that if i could just get them to the numb stage then i could keep going and thats what i did. the countryside seemed to be empty of people as Freddy and i trekked on - the wheat and rice fields seemed to be thinning and the sky was slightly cloudy which was great for walking as you don't get burnt to a crisp. the day went by quickly and as we only walked for 3-4 hours we quickly reached Mortala which is a smallish town in Lombardy which we've just crossed into. Freddy and i tried a religious hostel but it was closed due to my inability to now walk i said to him that i had to book into a hotel and we said a second goodbye as he went off to to local church to get some sanctuary there. the hotel i'd booked into was just fantastic - a lovely owner, great rooms and lovely food so i felt refreshed (http://www.ilcuuc.it/) . i was going to get up early and start off towards the next town but i decided to take a rest day instead and this was lucky as it turned out as this is the first day its rained ... which has enabled me to catch up on blogs, emails, haircuts and blister care. tomorrow i hit the road again - who knows what adventures lie ahead but one thing i do know is that i won't feel bad to go back to Australia now the election results have been sorted out. maybe Freddy was right - there is a God after all.
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