Auguri a tutti gli antifascisti

Today was a national holiday celebrating the Liberation of Italy. With a large group of friends, we trekked a small way up from the foot of the mountain and had a day of food and wine and soccer in the middle of a forest so enchantingly green and lush I more expected places like this to exist photoshopped and only in films. It was the private property of someones Nonni, a type of typical holiday escape - 'in campagna'. Their traditional variation on BBQing was interesting and just the whole scenic environment/situaton exquisite and once again I kicked myself for not bringing a camera. There was a colossal waterfight and everyone thought it would be a great joke to gang up on the Australian girl. Despite my best efforts I was vastly outnumbered and judging by the water flowing from my clothes/hair/ears and the parched appearances of others, I was probably unvictorious. I was obliged to change into a dry outfit donated by the evil but ever-loving culprits. Italians have a strange obsession with always having dry hair, utterly convinced you'd die of pneumonia otherwise. As well as having wet hair, having bare feet in the house/anywhere is a no-no taken tooo seriously. Troppo difficile to adjust after living in Yamba.