another in a long line of epic weekends

alas. photographic evidence is scarce since my camera died.
however.
a rather disagreable work assignment to cover a central banker IN A DUMP (SEE ABOVE)
(which involved slow-poke urine-scented trains and hitch hiking to reach)

turned into a handy excuse to spend a weekend in the town FKJ was born.
the still delightful bologna.

highlights included:
eating copious amounts of tortelli, lasagne, garganelli in ragu, cream.
end result: M to XL

getting lost in a city i profess to know like the back of my hand
end result: humiliation in asking locals who inquired where i was from

seeing one of my oldest friends, davide, a creature hard to describe.
the following sparse details may give an inkling to the personaggio.
1. he cuts his hair every two years
2. his clothes are cast offs and hand me downs from his father. hence his trousers are three-quarter length
3. he's purchased 15 acres of stunning countryside in the bologna hinterland. with rubble for a home. a horse shed and something resembling a chapel. on these premises he lives. stomping the stumpy earth and woodland barefoot, in the style of an urban yeti, living off the greens he's planted. no loos. a mattress. we spent the night sleeping under the stars and taking a shower with a hose in full view of the rolling hill and the boars in hiding.

end result: exhaustion, bliss, layers of dirt and grime. suspect insect bites.

i drove back to rome and feel armed and ready to take the rest of italy by storm this summer. roar.