I leave my shoes outside to relax and enjoy the sudden downpour, so now I get to explore Amelia with infantry trenchfoot. Maybe someone will mustard gas me in the face before a good, stiff ass bayonetting; I feel like I'm in a Metallica video. We have time for a quick cappucino in Narni. Italians don't really do breafast, in the egg/toast/tea manner I'm so accustomed to; as usual, they are more easy going...dessert! Cappuchino of course, but only till round 2pm, then you instantly become a tourist ordering anything other than espresso, and pastries typically doused in heavy cream and custard. 2pm is also when one is supposed to switch to buona cera, just FYI. Amelia is a thoroughly beautiful mountain town encircled by a wall that gives the Vatican's pretensions pause. Traffic is prohibited in the historic center at odd intervals, though not when we arrive. Traversing the approximate perimeter takes just over an hour, but since all of the churches and roman cisterns we pass are all inexplicably closed, we end up at la porta romana, our starting point, far earlier than expected. The best solution, in order to kill some time before siesta is over and the groceries reopen, is to get on the wrong bus and end up stranded for an hour in Terni, which has the dubious honor of being the only town in Umbria that looks like an anchovy's asshole. We wait an hour for the bus back to narni, and finish our food shopping with alacrity. I teach the butcher how to say "good evening" instead of buona cera and he donates an extra slice of porchetta to our pasta pool. And then we find cocoa puffs and the dampness suffusing my frozen feet evaporates in a sauna of soggy chocolate delight.
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