The Cult of Mount Labbro

Entertaining family means lots of vigorous activities. And so it was that last weekend, after many tries, we finally conquered the mighty Mount Labbro.


It helped that we drove a good portion of the way.

The route was a bucolic Tuscan paradise lousy with flowers, butterflies, and suspicious farmers.

After lots of marching we came to the summit.

A startling discovery awaited. Mount Labbro was/is the headquarters of a full blown CULT!!! They call themselves La Fratellanza Giurisdavidica. Nineteenth Century socialist-Christian type thing. Very bizzare.

The ruins of their temple/monastery remain on top. The complex includes a lookout tower:

Bee-infested chapel (not pictured, couldn't stand still long enough to document)

Tomb of the founder, one David Lazzaretti: zealot, revolutionary, madman.


And, best of all, English-Patient-esque grotto complete with altar!

The cult apparently continues to exist, as evidenced by this list:

I must say, it is not really surprising to discover a cult in Maremma. Kind of explains a lot, actually. Certainly this will have to be the site of some future frolics.

A day in the life

Due to popular demand, let me describe some details and vignettes of a day here in Milan.


First, some vigorous physical exercise, either in lovely Parco Sempione, or in the gym conveniently located in Chinatown.

After stopping for the frullato proteico at the bar next door, or perhaps at the local tofu factory, it's off to class at the Accademia di Italiano with Teacher Laura.
Laura and I discuss many important topics: the proper way to eat fish, what it's like to grow up half in Sicily, half in Milan, 'Tis a Pity She's a Whore, etc.

Then it's back home for a quick lunch before biking across the city on a bike mi, Milan's bike-sharing program.

They're a little clunky, and the cobblestones, tramlines, and local driving customs make for interesting journeys, but I must say I do love my bike mi. Gets me where I need to go quickly and entertainingly.

It takes about 20mins to get to the Graduate School in Social, Economic, and Political Sciences, my academic home for the summer. Against all precedent, and despite various dire predictions, this place has proven to be an island of efficiency and rationality in the turbulent seas of Italian academia. It is nothing fancy, but gives me a place to work, an internet connection, and free printing. I can't complain.

After a lengthy session of difficult and laborious political scientific research, I bike back home, a palatial structure occupying several city blocks set in acres of gardens and woodlands. I still haven't had a chance to explore all the wings.

The Kitchens

The Library

The Master Bedroom (I see the maid has not been round today)

The Conservatory

Usually it's just a quick stop at home, though, because the evening's entertainments are many. Things usually begin with an aperativo at one of the many establishments plying stiff drinks and free snacks. Then dinner, followed by some more bars, etc. It all gets a bit blurry at this point.

The next day, it's back up and at it again!

However, no sooner has this rountine become established than it will be broken. On the agenda coming up are a roaming caravan of family fun, a musical oddessy, and some time in goold old Londontown. And while each of these will no doubt be oodles of fun, I must say that I am quite liking my Milan routine.

A week in Italy

Yes, yes, I've been a bit delinquent about posting my first week of Italian adventures. I promise better documentation going forward.

For now, let me just provide a few additions to this fine account of a lazy day in the provinces...




I am intrigued by the white Moorish tower in the middle of the sea of tiles. Also curious what this guy did to deserve a scimitar in the head.


Next, a few shots from a relaxing-yet-productive weekend in the country.

The Scotland-esque weather provided lots of incentives for household Krausing of the finest variety. Bathroom hooks. DVD-arranging (including the creation of a NEW genre). Moving things. Etc.




Hearty fare was made.....

...for these lovely visitors


Summer plans abound, each more exciting than the next. Lots of cavorting planned in a variety of places. But the most exciting is not where, or what, but whom.

Five more years

Was down in Princeton this weekend to commemorate the Fifth anniversary of my (first, hopefully not last) graduation from that institution.

For those of you who don't know, Princeton throws BIG, multi-day reunion extravaganzas. They say that more beer is purchased for Princeton reunions than for any other event in the country except NASCAR racing.

This year our class had a cops-and-robbers theme with these delightful costumes:


But for the black stripes, it would have looked like the entire population of Guantanamo had been let loose in central New Jersey. It looked quite thrilling in the "P-rade" (get it?), in which all the classes process through campus in order.

Besides the P-rade, there were all the usual activities.

Fireworks



Big meals under tents

Doing what college students do



Is it all terribly silly?

Yes.

Do we care?

No. Because when you think about it, dressing up in funny costumes and drinking beer in tents for 3 days is actually quite fun.

And the best part, of course, is seeing people you want to see.






Now I should probably stop blogging and finish packing.

Next stop: Here.

R and R in RI

Had a lovely weekend in RI with K+D, who rescued me from New Haven after Amtrak abandoned me there (though the opportunity did afford me a chance to visit Ms. A., meet her new beau, and participate in some hashing).

It was nice to see a little greenery

Enjoy some good eating

(above: my new favorite breakfast concoction receives a double thumbs-up)

Show people some New England quaintness

Though sadly, for K, there was only a glimpse of period costume

Yes, I dare say a good time was had by all.

Family fun: crab porn

The family is together for a holiday weekend in Rhode Island. What do we do for entertainment? Crab porn, of course.

Limulus polyphemus, commonly known as the horseshoe crab, is not really a crab but at all, but rather a chelicerate arthropod more closely related to spiders and scorpions than crustaceans. Dating from the Paleozoic Era (570-248 million years ago), these "living fossils" have seen the trilobites, the dinosaurs, the mammoths and saber toothed tigers come and go. We humans are, to them, mere blips in evolutionary time. How have they endured so long? By having lots and lots and lots of sex. But how much exactly? That is the question we sought to answer.

The scene: A New England beach at dusk. As the last wisps of pink fade from the sky, dramatic clouds pulsate with the flash of distant lightning, sending frissons of romance across the sand and pebbles.

The team: A crack-crew of world-renown oceanographers armed with the most sophisticated equipment.

The task: Conduct the first-ever survey of limulus in the area on this, the night of the full moon, when the high tides send the creatures into a literal MATING FRENZY. Danger is high, but Science, and Glory, command us on.

We arrive at the scene to a rude shock--a man dragging a full and heavy sack down the beach.We ask him what he is collecting. Horseshoe crabs, he replies. Sure enough, a glimpse inside the sack reveals four large specimens. We are here to survey them, mom tells the poacher. An awkward silence follows. We decide to begin the survey on the opposite side of the beach.

The blood of horseshoe crabs has an interesting property that makes them valuable detectors of infection. The blood of a single crab, extracted over its lifetime, can be worth up to $10,000. This value has put pressure on the crab population, but no one really knows how much. Hence the need for the survey we are conducting.

And our efforts are not in vain. Using advanced rope-and-stick technology, we divide the tidal zone into quadrants and search for breeding pairs.

Sure enough, all over the beach the crabs are doing it with the efficiency only 450 million years of evolution can generate (sensitive viewers should skip the next images).

Hot.

After counting the copulating crabs, we then set about tagging a few of them to evaluate their migratory behavior. This is the most dangerous part of the job.

Fortunately, the team is well trained and fearless, nimbly seizing the crabs before they can stab us with their deadly tail spikes (or something like that).





In the end, some 12 crabs were counted, including six in the act itself. Two were tagged. One poacher was turned back.

Though utlimately beaten back by the increasingly close and intense lightning storm, the team felt a considerable amount of pride after completing the survey.

Most importantly, rigorous scientific prodcuedres were followed at all times.