Today
is market day in Alba, we have promised ourselves that we will go, so despite
epic shab off we set. Mother is in alarmingly good form, we are not. Mother’s
shab kicks in later to rather devastating effect, but as we mooch around Alba
our senses are revived somewhat. The air smells of expensive things and also,
oddly, chocolate, wafting from the Ferrero factory which is situated just on
the outskirts. We had high hopes of being able to pick up an example of fine Italian
tailoring in the form of a replacement shirt for Jon’s ever decreasing wardrobe
at the market, (Noush guilt), but Alba doesn’t seem to understand the concept
of reasonably priced clothing, so we leave, shirtless. We have however been
successful in buying some clippers with which we intend to relieve Moo of most
of his fur. This turns out to be a rather laborious process, how can one dog be
so hairy? He seems pretty happy with the result though….
A
quick trip to town in the evening (hair of the dog anyone?), is going very pleasantly
until events take a rather weird and surreal turn in the form of Hans and
Margherita..oh dear.
On
the face of it two chatty swiss types who heard us talking English and were
curious. So they sort of invite themselves over to our table and much small
talk ensues. All quite harmless, or so you’d think. Early warning signs are
some serious over-inquisitiveness and, rather more alarmingly, Nico standing
behind them making obscure hand warnings that seem to imply ‘run away!’. He’s
muttering something that I can’t catch, but Margherita graciously supplies us
with the translation: “ He is saying for you be careful, for we like to make
naked swim! Of course is not obligatoire, but you are very welcome”. Jon and I exchange
glances. Is this serious? The evening progresses and nothing untoward occurs. Hans
is like a very quiet twinkly skinny Santa claus, Margherita like a fairly mad
artist of a certain age. We are lulled. Probably against our better judgement
we accept the invitation to go back to theirs for a swim (not naked!), thinking
that we can always just scarper if it gets creepy. So we follow them to their
house in the hills, where all thoughts of scarpering are swiftly curtailed as
the giant electric gates are locked behind us. Oh dear.
Hans
then proceeds to produce some (fairly grim) food, and Margherita proceeds to
talk non-stop for what feels like forever. Warning signs are getting bigger and
darker in the form of talk of open marriages, naked swim, naked bath…this is very
very bad. I even set the alarm on my phone while pretending to root in my bag
so that it’ll sound like its ringing and we have an iron clad excuse to leave.
The pool is even made to look enticing with glowy balloon type things, which
Hans throws in, setting the scene… creepy! Enough is enough – time to bail and
sharpish too. They remind us of the types who would perhaps being involved in
some dodgy films. I don’t know of these films, but my mates have told me.
Excuses made and we’re off. Thoughts of the gates not being opened and the
Stephen King book Misery flash through my mind. We escape! Back to the safety
of the hous, quick medicinal restorative before bed. We live to fight/swim
another day.