Even with the assiduously courted violinists, we were rather light on musicians in the first week, but it didn't matter. The innovation this year was chamber music coaching sessions by Lev in the afternoons. After the first 3-hour session on Tuesday, Marian (our friend who was helping Sophie with the cooking) said that they were all on a roll. My personal bonus was that, because there was no "proper" viola player in the 1st week (in the 2nd, there were 2), I got to play this much maligned instrument**. Even on my £40 cardboard viola (actually wood, but at that price, including bow and case...) I managed to astound and delight onlookers with my rendition of a Bach cello suite (they do need to humour me). We actually did some excellent music this week; there were also excellent other diversions. Cousin Joyce and family stayed with David, the American artist who lives up the hill, so the boundaries became even more blurred. David has now accepted our annual invasion with good grace, and, inter alia, books our restaurants for us (and even joins us on occasion).

Wednesday was free - which meant that everybody went off, including family, leaving me to pursue my project of reading up on the History of the 20th Century.*** Thursday night was our traditional bring-a-plate party night. It also brought John Asher, an ebullient Scot, who organised a barn dance and got us all bumping into each other until we dropped from exhaustion, and then entertained us until 1am with the Scottish equivalent of Eskimo Nell****, albeit (this is conjecture, because it was in a language nobody could understand) slightly less scatological. On Friday, we (i.e. David) booked a table for 24 (there were a lot of hangers on) at the Osteria in Borgo. Alberto, overwhelmed by numbers (and our rather chaotic appearances last year), just cooked us a menuless meal and let us get on with it. There were no complaints.

The second week, as always, was rather different. There were no spare people (i.e. non-musicians) in Le Vigne to organise the food and keep people in check. There were far more musicians - 17 in all, with David taking the overspill - so we had something approaching a full chamber orchestra. Logistics for the afternoon chamber sessions were thus more complex, but handled adroitly by the excellent if under-appreciated Liz Mullen. Lev and Philip (the two best musicians) took Monday PM off for their standard jointly-efforted meal, as always a virtuoso affair, and served 8-pm Italian time (i.e. about 9.30). Tuesday was an endless saga of missed flights and trains by daughters Danny and Kali, eager respectively to join and to leave the fun. No more transport was missed thereafter - although Liz Mullen, loth to leave before Siegfried had completed his Idyll on Friday morning, got her flight only because willing hands threw her and her luggage onto separate compartments on the train to Bologna with 30 seconds to spare; we have since heard that they were reunited and arrived safely.

Thursday was the high point. Richard the oboe deserted us on Thursday morning, leaving us bereft. But now, the serendipitous master stroke took place, in the person of Pina who, with Luigi, the local opera singer turned stone mason, turned up at David's and was promptly sent down to us for some musicianly bonding. Pina, who is a professional currently playing at the Puccini festival in Torre del Lago, immediately unleashed her violin and proceed to lead the seconds. Her oboe friend Stefano, who joined us with Pina for the concert in the evening, then filled the oboe gap left by Richard. Pina announced that she would play with us every day the following year. I surmise that there will be a significant increase in the amount of Italian spoken next year, as the men and women of our enterprise seek to converse with their respective would-be paramours. The concert itself was an overwhelming success, and we were all deeply moved by the generosity and enthusiasm of the welcome given us by the villagers. A side show - the local precocious teenage girls, and the less-than precocious teenage boys entertaining themselves and us with gramophone-less singing and dancing – wound up the evening, or would have done had we not afterwards struggled up the hill to Le Vigne for a final cards session. It is surprising what hidden talents are revealed by such an exercise. Lev was seen wending up the hill to David's around 4am - and was there bright and (fairly) early for the final Friday session.
Friday finally closed (minus the by-now-emplaned Liz, and the previously departed Richard) with another meal for 24 (this time largely from our own ranks, plus David and Annette*****) in San Graziano. I finished this piece lying peacefully on the table in the studio, the timbers still resonating to the echoes....