Welcome to Bongo Bongo Land

The Ukip MEP, Godfrey Bloom, has caused a stir by suggesting the aid given by Britain to African countries would be better spent at home, particularly when the UK is still in recession. And, he added, much of the aid is squandered:  “How we can possibly be giving a billion pounds a month, when we’re in this sort of debt, to bongo bongo land is completely beyond me, to buy Ray-Ban sunglasses, apartments in Paris, Ferraris and all the rest of it that goes with most of the foreign aid.”

   He is of course absolutely correct in every respect bar one: the location of Bongo Bongo Land. For this mythical land is not confined to Africa, but has spread its empire to every country, in every continent of the globe, including his own. I've commented before on how the British taxpayer is aiding Goodwin and his ilk to enjoy a gilded life-style. Yesterday's Corriere della Sera carried an article which revealed how Italy, or Bunga Bunga Land, is outstripping the English province of Bongo Bongo Land. To cite just one example: Mauro Sentinelli, the former MD of Telecom Italia receives a pension of €91,337 a month, paid for by - you've guessed it - the Italian taxpayer. Almost makes you feel sorry for poor old Fred struggling to get by on a mere £342,500 per annum.
  The paper also carried an article by Guido Rossi, Il mercato che uccide la democrazia è il nuovo Leviatano degli egoisti [The Market which is destroying democracy is the new Leviathan of the self-centred]. The Market, he suggests, is the 'regno dell'arrangiarsi e del diritto del più forte' [the kingdom of everyone having to shift for himself where might is right]. Or as, Godfrey Bloom would never put it, the true kingdom of Bongo Bongo Land.

The Courtyard Circular: July 2013

The month has largely revolved around music and eating.


Music.
As well as the Cohen concert in Rome near the beginning of the month, last Sunday saw some musical entertainment closer to home. The Pro Loco had arranged an event in the Tronelli Gardens to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the village's murals. Two of the artists who had painted them when they were art students gave an account of their time in the village and a professor of art restoration spoke about what would be involved if the village wished to restore the murals.

There was also an exhibition of photographs of the murals taken when they were newly painted. All of which was accompanied by live music from the Montenegro Balkan and Klezmer Band. Pat and I had naively assumed they hailed from the other side of the Adriatic. Peppe put us right: they came from the nearby village of Montemonaco! Nevertheless, they made a jolly sound, rather reminiscent of Nigel Kennedy and the Kroke Band:

Food.

On the first Friday of the month we had a caribbean curry at Tony and Shona's. Shona's sister, Rosemary, was staying with them and had anticipated my fall at Fiumicino with an earlier one of her own at Stansted. The following day Pat and I had our anniversary lunch, a day early, at the Faro on Pedaso seafront before we went our separate ways the following day: she to Upwell, I to Rome. The evening of our return from Rome on the 8th, Dave and I went to village's newly reopened locanda - renamed La Sfinge [the sphinx] - with Tony, Shona and Rosemary for a pizza. The following day Dave and I went to Il Tiglio, at Isola San Biagio, for lunch. Dave went back to the UK on the 12th and on the following Saturday I was invited to lunch by Peppe and Angiola. Jane was a fellow guest.

  Pat's return from the UK on the 13th was followed by an epicurean frenzy: on the 16th we dined with Glyn and his friend Paul at the Agriturismo Montorso, on the 17th we took Peppe Alessandroni and his son, Joe, to lunch at the Osteria del Lago San Ruffino. Two days later we were Peppe A's guests at his daughter, Rosita's, pizzeria in Force. The week was rounded off on Saturday when we went to La Sfinge with Tony and Shona, John and Judi, and Jane. 

  And, to round off the month's sociable guzzling, Tony and Shona came round to supper yesterday evening.