More positive tourist Karma at work with my fortunate choice of lodgings at Le Torre deep in da heart of Lucca. The owner Alfredo and his loveleeee wife are absolute characters. He spends most of the day sitting around Piazza del Carmine talking to the other locals, making smalltalk with the tenants that he likes all the while sporting a rather well worn pair of black trousers, the government issue dark brown sandals and a shirt (please note the use of the singular) which he, like a skilled catwalk model or experienced seamstress, transforms into various “looks”When in idle mode (this is his default mode), the shirt would be draped over the back of his chair or similarly draped over one or occasionally two shoulders. In the one full afternoon I spent with him, testing my Italian as we watched the shadows lengthen across the piazza his establishment

Le Torre happened to be full, so Alfredo’s interaction with passing tourists seeking shelter didnt extend beyond him pointing with an outstretched index finger thrust forth from the hand he happened to have laying on top of his head at the time to an A4 piece of paper on which he had cleverly scrawled the word “FULL”.

I, after watching his interaction with some of these tourists unsatisfied with the information barrage that this one word conveyed to them arose from my chair, removed my trusty Pilot V2000 pen from my pack and added the words “until monday” to the sheet, after which Alfredo barely had to move a muscle until the aforementioned day was upon us.

It was during this relaxed mode that I received a call from all round great guy and urbania roomy Ben Rizzuto. He was kicking around toscana with the rest of the Rizzuti and was somewhat keen to head down to Lucca for the evening. My eyes turned to the A4 information system hanging from Le Torre’s sign moved across to Alfredo who was so magnificently slouched in his chair that his feet would have been a good metre in front of him, he looked like some meaty broom stick someody had leaned against a chair and then forgotten. I felt compelled to tell Ben that the place i was staying in was “full — until monday”

Wanting to help the wandering rizzuti further i left the snoozing alfredo and took a quick tour of some of the other b&b’s in the immediate area. There were a few places with vacancies but nothing overly inspirational. I returned to Alfredo to find that he had enhanced his feats of reclinational gymnastics further by somehow crossing one leg over the other, he had to slightly shift his upper body weight in the opposite direction in order to minimise the number of fundamental laws of physics he was openly defying by arguably remaining in the vertical plane. One of his many unearthky senses must have detected something as he arose from his chair and buttoned a button as i approached him.

“Alfredo… quatri amici,.. ahh… arrivera sta sera .. alfredo… e possibilie per loro restano … qui ?” I utterred
“Quanti???” he skilfully enquired…
“Quatri” came my succinct reply, he raised his index finger in the universally recognisable sign of “ignore me for a few seconds” and swept into the office of Le Torre.

A phone call and a rather animated conversation with his housekeeper later he emerged to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood the information we had previously exchanged and to seek my blood oath that these amici were definitely going to arrive and arrive soon. A quick call to ben and I had the promise of an honest man in my possession which i passed on to Alfredo. He returned to his office barked out some more instructions and sat on the steps of Le Torre with his button still in the engaged position. This concerned me, and rightly so for all the pieces of the puzzle that alfredo had conjured to accomodate the wandering band of rizzuti now streaking towards Lucca aboard their trusty steed had not yet fallen into place.

Minutes later emerged american backpacker guy, Alfredo waived him into Le Torre, looked at me and pointed with his thumb back over his shoulder. A gesture which I took to mean one of three things 1) You Fuck off! 2) Im going to kill this guy and you have to help me get rid of his heavy heavy body, or, 3) I would be most greatful if you could assist me in my business with this gentleman as he speaks no italian.

To my disappointment he meant the latter, a few nudge nudge wink winks later and american backapacker dude had been convinced to take lodgings at another no doubt similarly beautiful institution run by a friend of Alfredo’s. He departed, Alfredo made it clear to me that he had performed what we in the west refer to as a “favour” and we returned to our full… until monday positions.

The rizzuti arrived seconds after Alfredo had to dash off to retrieve his dog which had taken leave to stray from his home in an unauthorised manner. My part in the vicious cruel murder of poor Mario in the canals of venezia seized me bodily turning me to stone ensuring that there was no way my instinctive need to assist in the rescue of wittle puppy dog would bubble to the surface of my cerebellum. Alfredo dashed off on his bicycle and returned just after ben introduced me to mum, dad and sis rizzuto, puppy safely stowed in the girly handlebar basket.

Alfredo took care of business with Italiano parlaing Ben and whisked the rizzuti off to their pad in Le Torre 2, (another cornerstone of the Alfredo empire)

An hour or so later I was pleased to hear that the lodgings werent like robinson ca-ru-soe as primitive as can be and that the rizzuti were poised for an evening of Luccafication. (gee i hope that’s not a word)