finally things are falling into place in our new country. from 01 august we will have a long term rental.... i will be living here illegally (probably alongside 75000 other 'refugees') ...
in the meantime we are moving again next week to a small village named jesi... also in the marche' province. but we have rented some storage as schlepping 112kg's of 'stuff' around .... we are gatvol (a good colloquial south african word meaning fed up).
we (naughtily) cut a key for the main entrance to our present accommodation as we plan to store our bicycles in the basement along with everyone else's until we can come fetch them.... and we plan to ride them all the way to jesi. another brave idea.... which will kill me or make me younger or at the very least make me very thirsty
meantime we have been making the very best of our present spot.... yesterday cycling 40 odd kilometers exploring the coast. swimming in the adriatic sea (pond?) .... watching women's beach volleyball ...very tiring on the eyeballs ...
Sugar man
Won't ya hurry
Coz I'm tired of these scenes
For a blue coin
Won't ya bring back
All those colours to my dreams
Silver magic ships, you carry
Jumpers, coke, sweet Mary Jane
Sugar man
Met a false friend
On a lonely, dusty road
Lost my heart
When I found it
It had turned to dead, black coal
lyric credits
i have been meaning to join 
Going down a dirty inner city side road
I plotted
Madness passed me by, she smiled hi
I nodded
Looked up as the sky began to cry
She shot it.
Met a girl from Dearborn, early six o'clock this morn
A cold fact
Asked about her bag, suburbia's such a drag
Won't go back
'Cos Papa don't allow no new ideas here
And now he sees the news, but the picture's not too clear.
Mama, Papa, stop
Treasure what you got
Soon you may be caught
Without it
The curfew's set for eight
Will it ever all be straight
I doubt it.
7 jealous fools playing by her rules
Can't believe her
He feels so in between, can't break the scene
It would grieve her
And that's the reason why he must cry
He'll never leave her.
Crooked children, yellow chalk
writing on the concrete walk
Their King died
Drinking from a Judas cup,
looking down but seeing up
Sweet red wine
'Cos Papa don't allow no new ideas here
And now you hear the music
but the words don't sound too clear.
Mama, Papa, stop
Treasure what you got
Soon you may be caught
Without it
The curfew's set for eight
Will it ever all be straight
I doubt it.
Going down a dusty, Georgian side road
I wonder
The wind splashed in my face
can smell a trace
Of thunder.
lyric credits
thanks for stopping by .... always appreciated. stay safe, stay free and love the one you with