Let's go to the hop!

Thank goodness you've arrived! It's a bit of a climb, but I think it's worth it for the view across the valley.

This naughty old shepherd tells me his name is written in the Book of Life: Guglielmo Bondone. But young Giovanna there tells me everyone in the nearby town of Cortona calls him Poppa Glug on account of his drinking habit. I was flirting with him a little, but he seems more intent on something serious! (And he's sixty-seven years old, for Pete's sakes!) He excuses himself saying that "Tomorrow we may be dead of the plague, but today, how about a little smooching in the sunshine? I can give you a fine, strong baby. Does that not appeal?"

He also told me that he has been suffering with a toothache, but doesn't think it is bad enough to pull the tooth. He has been chewing on cloves to keep the pain under control. I came up here with his granddaughter Giovanna, to bring him this leather scrip with his lunch - bread made with herbs, and a chunk of sheepsmilk cheese, and a pitcher of wine. He tells me he came up here a little before the bell sounded for lauds down in the priory (about 6.00 am), with a breakfast of small honey-cakes which made the toothache worse for a bit, and will be up here until after compline (about 7.00 pm).

I'm staggered by the size of the flock of sheep Poppa Glug is watching. (I can't help thinking of him as Poppa Glug, especially after watching him drink) He tells me the flock is one hundred and twenty sheep at present (not all his own), although it varies with lambing and slaughter. The sheep are used for milk (which surprises me), wool, and eventually meat. But there isn't much need for rams, so they just get fattened for meat.

We are both invited to join Poppa Glug when his grandson takes over watching the sheep to go into the town itself; there is a dance in the piazza this evening and there will be plenty of meat and drink on offer. Who knows, we might even find some handsome young man? (He really is the most incorrigible rogue, but quite fun to be with in a non-committal way).

In the town, apart from the crowds, the first thing that strikes me is that the Italians must have been among the first people to develop high-rise buildings. Part of their Roman heritage, perhaps? and the pavements, none of them are the same, different types of stone, different textures. I'm sure I could navigate blindfold if I knew the town better, just by the feel of the pavement under my feet.

X:35 T:Saltarello 3 M:6/8 L:1/8 Z:Andy Hornby %%ID:00000da6 F: http://www.leeds.ac.uk/music/Info/RRTuneBk/gettune/00000da6.abc K:C cBA GAB|cdB c2 G|ABc ABG|cBc d2e| cgf e2d|cgf e2d|cBc A2e|Aee A3:| |:edc B2A|c2d e2d|cBc A2B|GAB c2G|ABc ABG| cBc d2e|cgf e2d|cgf e2d|cBc A2e|Aee A3:| |:ede g2c|ggc g3|ede g2e|fed e2d| cBc A2B|GAB c2G|ABc ABG|cBc d2e| cgf e2d|cgf e2d|cBc A2e|Aee A3:|

For anyone who wants to know, the band comprised three shawms (S, T, T), one of the shawm players doubled on Alto recorder solo for a couple of slow dances, a sacbut, and Nakers.

That saltarello is the one tune I could remember when I got back! If you can visualize a square full of whirling bodies, and leaping young men; this is a jumping dance, and very energetic. And although I had to sit this one out, even Poppa Glug was in the mix, throwing himself into it with gusto. I got the impression that a lot of the young men were competing to see who could make the highest jumps.

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