We spent the morning in Lusicano, near the coast, walking the cobbled streets and rubbernecking along the back roads, admiring the grand architecture – most buildings re-built after the second world war – an exact replica of how it used to be.
Back home, the rainy day allowed us the excuse to watch an afternoon movie, read, sleep, and watch the world go by. The afternoon’s sun pushed the clouds away and a short walk along a brambly pathway allowed us to view another part of the valley and the wild boars.
‘I didn’t know how square they’d be, they’re so solid.’ I said.
The adults skipped up and down the countryside as a neighbour’s dog chased them off. Then the floor moved, what was happening? It seemed as though the dirt was running down the hill too. It wasn’t the earth moving, it was baby pigs, lots and lots of babies, from our peak looking down, they looked like a plague of rats!
‘I wonder if they shoot them.’ Noel mused.
‘They must do to keep numbers down, I can’t believe how many babies were there!’
They certainly had a good life, lush grass, untouched lands where they were left alone to meander – maybe….
‘I didn’t know how square they’d be, they’re so solid.’ I said.
The adults skipped up and down the countryside as a neighbour’s dog chased them off. Then the floor moved, what was happening? It seemed as though the dirt was running down the hill too. It wasn’t the earth moving, it was baby pigs, lots and lots of babies, from our peak looking down, they looked like a plague of rats!
‘I wonder if they shoot them.’ Noel mused.
‘They must do to keep numbers down, I can’t believe how many babies were there!’
They certainly had a good life, lush grass, untouched lands where they were left alone to meander – maybe….
Image courtesy of anankkml at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Then we saw the shepherd. With twenty sheep and a happy dog (which didn’t partake in any shepherding). We watched the skill of the stooped Italian man, making good use of his walking stick. The sheep followed him across a road, he stopped and his woollen friends filed past him to the paddock, where they dutifully munched.
‘They are the best behaved sheep I have ever seen!’ Noel said.
Later from our balcony, we watched as the shepherd ambled along the laneway, with his sheep in tow. Was this Tornelli’s pied-piper? Quite possibly in his eighties, the ‘shepherd’ hoisted himself onto a patch of green, the sheep followed.
‘They are the best behaved sheep I have ever seen!’ Noel said.
Later from our balcony, we watched as the shepherd ambled along the laneway, with his sheep in tow. Was this Tornelli’s pied-piper? Quite possibly in his eighties, the ‘shepherd’ hoisted himself onto a patch of green, the sheep followed.
He lent on his walking stick and watched the world go by, well, he waved at one solitary car (must have been rush hour). Then tapped his leg with his stick and the sheep lifted their heads crossed the road to the next paddock and started to eat. The shepherd shuffled behind them – the dog galloped off elsewhere to sniff something out – completely uninterested in any sheep duties.
‘That’s two firsts for me today,’ Noel said, ‘wild boars and a shepherd.’
‘That’s two firsts for me today,’ Noel said, ‘wild boars and a shepherd.’
We won’t want to leave!
Next: Living Like Kings
Next: Living Like Kings
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