Two weeks in Spilimbergo, where my partner's family are from. We're in Friuli, where the local language is Friulano, and where prosecco and San Daniele prosciutto is produced. The tomatoes growing in the garden are incredible, and one morning we visit the buffaloes and bring home fresh mozzarella. The super market is overflowing with delicacies.
Adrian's nonna is 93, and her mind is going, but she laughs and we laugh with her - especially when she forgets we've eaten and loudly complains she's not being fed. She recognises us sometimes, and sometimes not. She talks a lot about growing up in the mountain, asking every day if we've been to Radona, the place she was born.
We go to the pool, and to the beach. We work in between. We see the Ferragosto festivities (separate gallery here). We visit the caves in Clauzetto. We eat plenty of parmiggiano, salads, pasta and polenta. Mouthwatering rabbit. Ossobuco. We visit a friend's organic farm, Orto Felice and bring back five different types of basil from all over the world. We do pilates together in the morning, in the sun, on the grass. We visit Puffabro in the mountains, and go to Fagagna where the spring water makes a large number of storks congregate. We bask in the sun, then sit and listen to the thunder. We drink wine and play piano. It's almost like home, but with a distinct taste of Northern Italy.