I have a dream. A transport dream. I know I will never be given the opportunity to ride a Vespa through the streets of Toowoomba with my grey locks flowing freely in the wind. I will never have Linda holding on to me tightly while the 100cc motor scooter transports us for an al fresco lunch at, say, Picnic Point or the Tallegallah Cemetery.  I have had to come up with an alternative strategy.

When the United Nations establish a willingness to negotiate, their fist position is always an ambit claim.  From there they work backwards. Natalie used the same tactic.

Dad, I’m thirsty, can I have a drink?
Yes
OK I’ll have a large chocolate thick shake
No
OK,  just a milk shake
No
OK, a soft drink
No!

But then, by doing this, Natalie would get herself an orange juice instead of some tap water from a plastic cup provided by a kind old dear who works behind the counter in a coffee shop.

I’m going to use the same tactics!

I don’t want to be limited to one of these:

I know I’ll never get to own one of these:

And this one’ll get knocked back for sure:

As will this little red baby:

Even I think this is stupid:

But with a bit of work – and support from friends,  I think Linda WOULD DEFINITELY settle for one of these:

In fact I can see a whole fleet of these three-wheelers in Fairholme colours!  They could be used for so many occasions.  Imagine the Fairholme Board and the guest speaker turning up to Presenting Fairholme in the back of a convoy of open tops!  With a bit of perspex work done by Pete Sutton even  a copy of the Pope Mobile is not impossible.  Imagine how Celia and Margie’s people would go for that!!!!

Hired out for the Formal, rides at the Spring Fair, Carnival of Flowers – how the list goes on.  We might need crowd funding, but I think if we all get behind the project it can happen.  Italy is, after all, the land of miracles.  There must be a St Piaggio or St Vespa here we can enlist for support?

It’s just one man’s dream – but with your help it could  happen!

Watch out Fairholme, I have just interrogated a 10 year old Italian boy and learned the secrets of schooling Firenze-style.

This afternoon Ross and I meandered our way to Via Giuseppe Garibaldi to share tea on the terrace top of our best (and only – the brackets are for you, Scotty) Italian friend’s apartment. Celia – you would have had marble envy climbing the 80 steps to the fourth floor. Here on the terrace of this beautifully renovated apartment were panoramic views of the Duomo, Basillica, Pitti Palace, the hills to the north- west – a very special glimpse of Tuscany.

We were treated to tea and biscuits with Philomenia who lectures in English at the Florence University and we shared the pleasure with her 10 year old son Luccia and 5 year old son, Orlando. For avid blog followers, you might remember that we met Philomenia early on in our stay, at the magic Cafe Rainer; the location of coffee and white chocolate pastries to dream about. Not backward in coming forward, we invited ourselves to tutor Philomenia’s First Year English group, that same afternoon. Fear not – we were invited to afternoon tea today, we did not invite ourselves, though with the Rossco that may have been a reasonable deduction by the presumptuous amongst you.

Some scene setting at this point ….. Philomenia is an Aussie, of Italian heritage – born and bred in Melbourne, her husband is Italian and she has lived in Florence for the last 18 years – with a short two year sojourn to Paris somewhere in that time. At such points in a conversation one can feel a little like a Philistine, though of course Ross can always boast a Rosewood heritage. I sense Philomenia craves a little for Australian company, so we were able to oblige most willingly.

Her boys are fascinating –the products of being truly bilingual and bicultural (just made that term up). Orlando commandeered Ross for a protracted game of Power Rangers Memory … Ross lost. He maintains that Orlando cheated but I wasn’t a witness to his defeat at the hands of a minor. While Ross was reacquainting himself with the might of the Power Rangers, Luccia was filling me in on Italian education – or certainly schooling for a 10 year old boy in Florence. His school day runs from 8:25 until 4:00 pm, he often has 2 hours of homework, study, projects and of course studies English, daily. Lengthen that school day Stewart! The clincher for me was the discussion about ‘the interrogation’. …. and I was seriously fascinated, once I recovered from the name of the process, that is.

Luccia was interrogated in Science yesterday. That means, he was randomly selected by his teacher to stand in his place whilst his 21 classmates listened intently (actually Luccia said it’s incredibly boring) to his responses to an interrogation on the reproduction system. He had studied but did not know the questions that would be asked. The level of questioning is determined by the depth of the answers and at the end of 10 minutes the teacher awards a result out of 10.

The result matters, it’s cumulative over the semester and will ultimately determine Luccia’s pathway into middle school. He said it’s a bit scary but he enjoys it. His mother says after some whole-hearted Aussie scepticism, she is sold on the benefits – Philomenia believes the depth of understanding required to do well is quite phenomenal and the fact that it’s oral makes it very challenging and very public! Sometimes the teacher seeks volunteers to be interrogated – Luccia says there are two girls who always get their hands up first, they are after the elusive 10 out of 10. Go the girls! Now we know why Italians are such good oral communicators. Yet if their education is so thorough and discerning why is their economy so dismal? Too much time spent talking perhaps?

Another magic Florentine day, the highlight was our rooftop experience; a small glimpse of life as a Florentine and of course, learning the art of a good interrogation … I’m sure Lyn will love it!

(Better let you go to your next interrogation, Scotty)
Ciao, Linda