On the Sixth Day of Christmas
We are here in Italy
Six Fano Views taken
Five courses eaten
Four stockings readied
Three lots of shopping
Two people cleaning
And the house was only one degree
We did have aspirations of getting up early to enjoy a walk by The Adriatic with our friends G and J. G has this fantastic Segway wheelchair, which has a gyro for balance and he can move around by tilting his body forward and back and the wheelchair has an amazing top speed, which he delights in showing off at every available opportunity.
So whilst we were a little later out for our walk, the sun was shining. Miraculously we got a car parking space near to the harbour, even more miraculously it was the Disabled Space – which to be honest is usually filled with either an ‘able bodied’ car or worse rubbish bins.
We wheeled and walked our way towards the harbour point, out along the pier past the fishing huts and to the mini lighthouse point, and its commemorative statue to the those lost at sea. Lots of stupid selfies later, we wheeled and walked towards the Pesaro end of Fano, over the new canal bridge and towards the now closed restaurants. The Segway gets lots of admiring looks, as G pirouettes on the spot and zooms up and down ramps. He goes out on a recce to have a look at an area we haven’t seen before and reports that now he has seen it, there is no point in us looking at it, as it was rubbish. The sun is setting, and here it happens quite fast, so we make our way to the Cafe al Porto – a Fano tradition. In about 30 minutes it has gone from closed to full, with Fanese families who had completed their post Christmas walk, we see kids playing on their new hover boards, taking tentative rolls forward. No such tentative rolling on G’s part – he bombs forward on his Segway and we sequester a table.
We have the rather boozy local coffee cum liqueur drink called Moretta and howl with laughter as one man tries to leave the welcoming, warm bar, but his dog refuses point blank to play ball. The dog is sitting down, bum firmly planted and his front paws are dug into the floor. I don’t know what breed he was, but a kind of St Bernard type. The whole bar is fixated on the unfortunate man trying to haul his dog’s ass out to the cold. Eventually he managed it, but with the aid of a lady dog outside…
We make our way back to the van and load up to go home. A small contretemps with a lady trying to get into our space, before we’d actually vacated it and we were on our way, towards a very long Christmas dinner and pressies.
Pressies opened – lucky, lucky, JCR two books on running – Jo Pavey and Vassos Alexander, and one session for a sports massage. So better haul my ass out there then and do some running!
Not on Christmas Day though…