Barrone, the dog that follows us everywhere.
To the farm and back, into town, even into the
pizzeria.

I'm currently staying and working at a farm that's really more like an eco-tourism gig. We are in the mountains near the town of Sora, a few hours east of Rome. It's way cool. I'm working and living with about eight other young vagabonds, some of whom stay in rooms at the main farm, and others who travel with me on the trail through the woods back to the more primitive sister farm known as "Le Mogli" to sleep. The work we are doing is mostly to renovate a few ancient ruins so they may be habitable. There are ruins everywhere. The only buildings Le Mogli are stone ruins and they comprise our kitchen and storage rooms. The shower is a bamboo stall with a shower head that is attached to a hose to run gravity fed water from a barrel up the hill. We sleep outside when the weather is nice, in tents when it is not, poop in a hole, and pee in the bushes. We do have a stone pizza oven which is often put to use, and an outdoor sink that provides potable water. Not much to complain about really. Every night we create a feast together, and every day we haul stones and dirt from the ruins together. Occasionally we make the pilgrimage to town along a dirt road that winds a few miles through fields of corn and olives. The nearest town is Pescosolido, which lies about a mile uphill from us, but we usually end up in Sora, which is about two miles downhill and has the cheaper food.

Foreground: us making dinner. Background:
our awesome ruin.

There are many Italian philosophies that permeate many different parts of the culture. "Piano, piano" means "take it easy man, we're in Italy you know," and is how everything is done. All scheduling requires at least a half to a full hour of "Italian time" to be added on to everything. Another phrase, "vino, vino!" dictates that wine be consumed in copious amounts at all hours of the day, no meal being complete without a minor state of drunkenness. "Manga, manga!" is yet another, meaning "eat, eat!" it is also thrown around often along with fresh tomatoes from the garden, and figs from the trees, and grapes from the side of the road. It's a good thing we put in so much hiking, as one could readily bloat to truly American proportions on all the pasta, pizza, and wine. As of now, with the people and the work that are here, a month isn't looking like it will be long enough. As always, more pictures are here.