by SK via Comments
I am in a foreign land at the moment, staying with friends in a small town at the base of the Alps.
The heat you all are hearing about is real. The air is dry and the sun is scorching. Feels like desert heat. There has been rain but it mostly evaporates before doing the earth any good. Although lawns and fields are crispy and brown there is still a lot of green to be seen from heavy rains in May. The trees are huge and healthy. Oleander is in full bloom.
The food is delicious- fresh and simply prepared. No fussy sauces or dips, no crusts on fish or chicken. No gigantic appetizers. Ham is just air-dried or baked – no unpronounceable ingredients or plumping salt water injections. Good bread made from only 4 ingredients- water salt yeast and flour. No butter, only olive oil. Good yoghurt made from milk and active cultures, nothing else. People drink coffee, tea, water and wine, no fruit juices or soft drinks. They are on the menus but come in tiny tin cans if ordered, or fresh squeezed at breakfast. Fresh fruit is on every dessert menu. Berries are served in a bowl with lemon juice and a sprinkling of sugar.
Food is abundant and cheap. The fruit and vegetables are ripe and flavorful. The selection of cheese is dazzling.
Gas is crazy expensive and so is electricity. Few homes have air con. Windows are opened at night to let cool air in then shuttered in the day to keep heat out. Shutters and doors are always double locked and alarmed. Gardens are walled, fenced, gated and locked. There is an ancient, ingrained fear of invaders and thieves, now largely justified by the real invasion of folk from non Christian places.
People are generally cheerful and friendly. And slim. And patriotic. They all wear locally well made and beautiful sandals, shoes and boots. They walk a lot. Everyone talks about going to the seaside or the mountains for relief from the summer heat. A lot of very old people ride bikes on busy roads and up steep hills.
You dont need a watch. You can tell the time of day from the rhythm in the streets and the church bells that ring. The bells also announce funerals in long, slow, sad gongs. There are many, this is an old country.
No one seems deeply concerned about the world’s woes. Though you hear occasional anti Trump sentiment, fueled mostly by the press and their depiction of life in America or fear of tariffs, there is no real animosity, mostly admiration and fascination with the size and scale of everything American- it is still viewed as a land of opportunity and freedom. Mostly they talk here about food, music, football, cycling, beautiful women – but above all, food. It’s an obsession.
I’d say we still have a lot to learn from the old countries.
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