[Italians call it 'ballare' which means to dance, but I think we English would translate it to 'a night on the town' because to go 'dancing' sounds like, erm.. something my grandparents would do.]
So I agreed. And with a little translation help from Dominga (Mirko's english is as good as my italian..) we arranged a place and time to meet him and his group. She told me she couldn't come and get me afterwards and that I had to get a lift home. However, in Italy apparently it's just common courtesy that the boys take the girls home afterwards if they don't have a car. How crazy is that?! I barely even had to ask and he just brushed it aside like, yes of course we'll bring you back after, no worries.
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| "For the lower classes" in Giorgio's words.. a.k.a an epic time! |
So Saturday night, Dominga dropped me off in Broni and I was introduced to his group of friends as they arrived at the Light Bar. They had a cocktail offer going on: you buy a drink, you roll two dice and if you get a double you get the same again. And being the jammy dodger I was, I somehow rolled a double three. Haha yeaa.
It's crazy how friendly the Italians are. Like, I was so surprised. I guess Giorgio's antisocial shallow minded opinions were what I was expecting, as he'd told me a load of crap about Italian people which just wasn't true. (After all, he told me Italian people don't drink as much as English people... hah! yeah right). The girls practically took me under their wing and lead me everywhere. They all used their small combined knowledge of english to get through what they wanted to say, and I had people clambering around me asking me where I was from, what I was doing, what music I liked, did I know Cinderella (for some reason..), what football club I supported. It was mad.
They kept asking me what some words were in English.
"Come si dice 'cocktail' in inglese?"
" - Cocktail..?"
I learnt that they call a shot, a shot or an even cooler word: 'shottino'. And a tequila slammer is a 'tequila bom bom'. How cool is that?! Because you 'bom' the glass back down afterwards.
I didn't spend a penny on one drink while I was out. The boys paid for everything. I don't even know how. Mirko and his friend bought three shots of 'assenzio' and gave one to me. I had no idea what this stuff was but it smelled like aniseed so I assumed, ah yeah, some kind of green Sambuca. No. If someone offers you a shot of assenzio, politely decline. It will destroy you. You probably won't notice it until it's too late: it'll burn on the way down and probably singe your insides for the next two days.
We all paid €20 to get into the club Discoteca Life, but that gave us entry, a table and a shed load of drinks. Discoteca Life was unusual - on the inside it was like a club; it was on the outskirts of Stradella and Broni, but on the outside it was like a warehouse. When we arrived they were hosting a 'Miss Mondo' competition, with teenage girls strutting up and down, and when that finished it suddenly became a club.
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| Frieeeeends.... |
Early morning, we left. The Italians don't do it English uni-town style. Oh no. And it's not like France where everything shuts at two. At pushing half three, we went to a bar and Mirko grabbed a sandwich. His friend then drove us all practically to Pavia to take Mirko's girlfriend home, and then we attempted to get back to Montu' to get me home. Although, they didn't listen to me when I told them to take the left when we came out of Stradella, so half an hour later we arrived at Localita' Pezzalunga 3.
It was a good night, but I have to admit, one of the best parts was there were no creepy italian men. Not one. No slimy "Ciao bellaaaa.." calling from behind you. No greasy Italian men trying to grab your arms and getting you to dad dance. Ah it was wonderful. Haha!
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