market day...

Another excerpt from the pages of journal...actually these were written on the back of copies of maps, even better! Try to guess what the onomatopoeia refers to in the beginning...answers at the bottom.

26th Aprile
"clickety clak clak clickety clak clak clak....
brbbrrr brrbrbr brrbrbr brrbrbbrrbr brbr.....
cl-clank! uff.
coo coool cooollc cooo...
vsfss vsfss vsfss vsfsss vsfsvsf....

sitting in the square in Faenza. 20° today, the first real hot day in a while and theres a ton of people whizzing by on bikes. This town is so my speed! A shy little black boy, maybe 5, with one training wheel on his brightly coloured bikes eats absolute SHIT right in front of me on the cobblestones, looks up and laughs. Girls float by in summer dresses flowing on the fenders of sensible city bikes. Women with short dark hair and BIG sunglasses spin through the plaza sharing stories of the weekend and the leftover clomp clomp clomp of winter's boots fades behind me, giving way to the open toed pleasures this humid valley provides. A peaceful man walks an equally poised pointer and 20-somethings talk wildly on their cell phones. Maybe they were right back at the Farm, this city is teeming now, and hints at an even busier summer to come. A vested chihuahua strains his leash yapping at pigeons unimpressed. Teenagers roll by 2-up on bike racks, one on a front rack, facing her chivalrous pilot. I stopped in a bike and gear shop, the owner of which shared with me stories of his father, who was on the national Italian cycling team both before the war and after in 1937 and 1947 (I think is what he said). His ancient wool collared yellow jersey hanging proudly in the store window,the contours of it's rips sewn back together haphazardly as surely Italy was in the years following WWII. I look up at the distinct sound of mountain bike tires humming across the plaza. I feel like counting bikes.....less than 2 minuti for over 100 bikes! Only two guys in stretchy pants, and at least 5 with a passenger (or two!)! I AM HOME!"

29th Aprile
"trees open in all directions, stretching to meet the spring sun
poppies whisper their empty promises to the lavender
As butterflies flutter nervously about
truth dancing wistfully from their wings.

Sitting just off the main plaza in Faenza, sipping a Becks against the marble walls, the bustle of market fades and in its place the vacuum of people, bicycles, and small twisters of tissue and paperboard - the only evidence of commerce left. Soon the shutters will open again and bikes will rattle and shake their way across the ancient cobbles towards supper and aperitivi.

Mild successes today (market, art store, phamacia...) have left me with a hopeful feeling, with every week bringing me new knowledge and new opportunities to learn about this place I want to call home."

Here are some pics:

.

.


Answers to the sounds...
a) - shit bike rattling through the square
b) - chainguard rubbing a tire
c) - the kid who fell over
d) - pigeons
e) - track pants scurrying home.