Showing posts with label Cycling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cycling. Show all posts

Friday, 11 September 2009

Paper bag required


I remember reading somewhere that mosquitoes have a kind of soothing anaesthetic in them, so that you don’t actually feel them biting you until they’ve done their dirty work and made their escape. I think the same might be true of hairdressers.

The signs were there. I mean, apart from having to convey the tricky concept of “short but, y’know, not too short… long layers but not too layery, if you know what I mean” which is hard even in your mother tongue, let alone in a foreign language.

The hairdresser doesn’t do appointments, you just rock up and wait, the same way you do in a men’s barber, and instead of having that nice bit at the beginning where they offer you a cup of tea and stroke your hair in a getting-to-know-it sort of way, I told them I wanted “a cut”, then they propelled me through to the back and gave it the roughest scrubbing I’ve ever experienced.
A different person cut it, and a different person dried it, and at the end of an hour I emerged with… ringlets. Hmm. Still, I stared blankly into the mirror and thought: it’s not so bad.

“It’s very…” I struggled to find the Italian word for ‘bouncy’ and failed. Then without even thinking, a big toothy smile just spread over my face and I said. “It’s brilliant, I love it, thank you so much,” and handed over my money. It wasn’t until I got home that I looked in the mirror and wondered if I could possibly stay here for another three months, maybe with a bag over my head or something.

Later that day I ventured out on the bike to get some water in the hope that the wind might mess up the ringlets a little bit, and I found that as well as being cast-iron and wind resistant, it’s also irresistibly attractive to Codgers*. I got two beeps and a brazen stare, all from men who looked well into their 70s. Maybe I remind them of their childhood schoolteachers or something.


*NB: These were not fully fledged Codgers. Proper Codgers do not drive cars, they ride around on old bikes or 50cc motorinos at 3kph with a cigarette hanging out of their mouths and a three mile tailback behind them. It’s the only way to travel.

Saturday, 5 September 2009

Two wheels good



Have borrowed my cousin’s bike!
Time taken to ride it from my cousin’s house to here: 30 minutes
Distance covered: About 9k
Average steepness: Bloody steep, but some fun downy bits
Amount of bugs swallowed on journey: Four (that I know of)
Amount of times nearly mown down by truck: Once (not bad for Italian road)
Amount of limbs lost: None. Yay!
I am now officially mobile, provided the temperature stays under 25 degrees and the roads aren’t too steep. This presents a bit of a problem as the temperature is solidly above 25 degrees and I’m living in a valley but hey, am happy to potter up and down the SS45 and travel only at dawn or dusk (travelling after then is way too terrifying. Italian drivers are nuts enough as it is, when it gets dark they get even worse)