Monday, 22 June 2009

Postcard from Rome - La Dolce Vita

As usual postcards from abroad arrive after the sender has returned...


Dear Sockwatchers

Have rented a lovely apartment up near the Piazza del Popolo. It is on the top floor and has a fabulous 180° view over Rome encompassing everything from the Villa Borghese round to the Vatican.

Unfortunately the view is spoilt by the arrival of Clavdivs, a distant Italian cousin of the psycho gulls who frequent our roof top in Brighton, sent to spy on us.


And things get worse - he's bought his friend Caligula.


Clavs and Clags (as they become known to us) spend a lot of time peering in our terrace window and then throwing back their heads and screaming abuse at us. This is very wearing so we retreat to our enclosed roof top courtyard but they soon find us and their evil beaky faces peer down over the parapet. They see us eating a fine antipasti bought from Volpetti's fabulous deli and they want some of the goodies. Failing to secure even a beakful of Rome's best prosciutto, Clags thrusts his bottom out over the parapet and deposits a pile of seagull-splot right next to the Sock's chair leaving her in no doubt the next dump will be on her head!

On the last night of our stay in Rome, Clavs excels himself. When the Sock awakes on the morning of her departure, she wonders why the Bedsock has left a chair out on the balcony where it is now covered in seagull shit. The Bedsock replies, somewhat testily, that he didn't leave the chair outside to be shit on - after the Sock had gone to bed and he was half dozing on the sofa, Clavdivs decided to wander in and explore the apartment. The Bedsock opened his eyes to find a seagull staring into them at close proximity and the result was a certain amount of fear and confusion all round. Unfortunately Clavdivs had panicked a great deal and flapped and crashed around the flat with the Bedsock in full pursuit, pooing profusely wherever he landed (Clavdivs pooing that is, not the Bedsock although it was probably a close thing).

The Bedsock was somewhat aggrieved that the Sock in the adjoining bedroom had slept through the entire spectacle but not as much as the Sock herself who was rather sorry to have missed something so hilarious and ended up with the task of cleaning up the poo.

Love to all

Arabella xx

9 comments:

VP said...

Good to have you back Arabella and to see that your holiday didn't pass by without at least one hilarious incident!

HappyMouffetard said...

So glad you're back - I haven't snorted drink down my nose much or spat it on the keyboard since you've been gone, save for the notable exception of Mr Colborn's description of Rudbeckia occidentalis.

Rothschild Orchid said...

Only you could have a holiday that turned into a scene from The Birds!
I love the photo of Clav and Clags on the window ledge.

Hope you had a fabulous holiday.

RO xx

The Black Fingernail said...

Are you trying to say you had a soopa-poopa holiday in 47,000 words?

I once sailed into Vanuato in the South Pacific. It built its wasted wealth on guano...but personally I thought it was a load of old crap!

Sorry Annabella, but we want to hear of a true Italian holiday.

Stories of rubbish uncollected in the streets. Corruption and bribery of course! Tales of dodgy Albanian fags and cigarettes. Seas that you cannot swim in (due to dumped previously uncollected rubbish in the streets having been collected). Regimented Lidos that you have to pay for a regimented sunbed and shade.

Horrendous tales of heart in the mouth driving ...by dizzy middle-aged Belgian tourists.

C'mon! Tell us how it was.....

.....or I'll post the e-mail ;-)

BFN

The Black Fingernail said...

OMG!

I've just been watching the Ten O'Clock News Silvio Belusconi scandal.

You ARE the "Mature Escort Girl" in THAT Bari villa! ZIM $10,000 they said you charged, or about 21p. Well that's inflation...

BFN

emmat said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
emmat said...

did you buy us any cheese? did you see tom hanks?

Arabella Sock said...

How very rude of you BFN! My name is Arabella not Annabella.

Stories about cheese and dirty lidos may well follow.

Sadly we didn't get to see Tom Hanks although when we were in the Pantheon I kept a constant watch on the hole in the ceiling in case he parachuted in through it!

Yolanda Elizabet Heuzen said...

Really Arabella, how did you manage to sleep through all the racket? Did you stuff your ears with 100 % cashmere socks or what? ;-)