Our first new year in Italy was quite a memorable one. Jason’s sister Tami and her family, Frazer and Louis had come over for Christmas, which was lovely though freezing (we hadn’t yet been introduced the joys of the wood burning stove). We’d decided to do new year’s eve all’Italiana, so we’d booked tickets for the festivities at Villa Castellani – a fantastic local family run hotel that also specialises in big functions like weddings and wotnot.
The feast was stupendous, involving no less than 8 different spins on the langoustine (not great for Jason the vegetarian though the spectacle was at least a feast for the eyes). After the eating was done (well it was never really done, as courses just pushing their way through, but after the main assault) Rosie and Louis had both passed out in pushchairs and Frazer unilaterally decided it was time to kick the dance floor into life. As if by magic, Billie Jean beat into action and before anyone had the chance to object, Frazer was engaged in a full-on crotch-grabbing routine to the mystification of the assembled Italian mammas.
Shortly afterwards people headed off outside to get a breath of fresh air and calm themselves by handing homemade fireworks to the under 5s. And at about 5 in the morning everyone disbanded to drive home sozzled and happy.
