Day 12: Sunday, May 18. I was foiled on two separate efforts to make it to mass this morning. We let Jake sleep in after his long day, so by the time he got up there were fewer options. Kim had been wanting to go to San Francesco (St. Francis), so off we went, not really knowing the way. Silly us - we brought a GPS to Italy but didn't take it to find the church. Anyway, after multiple turns Kim asked an older lady who told us we were in the wrong area (Kim's Italian is improving). So we headed back to the apartment. We checked the mass schedule and were just about to head out when I got a phone call from the hotel. It seems the student who had sprained her ankle was now having issues with some kind of insect bite. A week ago we had a student who needed to go to the doctor because of bites, so maybe people are a little more concerned than usual. Anyway she was complaining that these were itching. It turns out the desk clerk's father is a doctor and he took a look at them. He believes they may have been from dust mites but wasn't positive, suggesting that if they were causing her problems she needed to see a dermatologist. I told them we would walk down to the hotel and drop off a supply of Benadryl. If after a day she still was itching she could see the doc. Better to go on a Monday rather than Sunday.

With the rental car and a visiting nephew, Kim decided we ought to visit somewhere nearby. Cingoli is a nearby hill town known as being one of the more picturesque. When you're driving up to it, it seems like it's a lot higher than 2100 feet.

 We lucked into a beautiful day and as it happened, there was also a celebration going on. We stopped and had some pork sandwiches from a vendor.

Note the British flag rug hanging in the background, available for only 18 Euros! 

We spent much of the afternoon walking around, looking in the stalls, buying a couple of things, and taking some pictures. One diversion happened when we were in the main square. An elderly gentlemen heard us speaking English and asked, in English, if we were British. I told him we were American. He then proceeded to tell me all about his life, from WWII forward. He joined the army at 17 and was proud of himself, his family, his town, etc. He was 88 years old and wanted to tell us about everything. 

It was a very pleasant conversation. Digression: I can't believe my nephew didn't realize that I speak Italian!!! 

After we got back to town we finally made it to mass at the Cathedral in Macerata at 6 p.m. I was very surprised that mass only took half an hour. We've been to short masses, but this one was at the Cathedral so I expected longer. When there's no music, it moves a lot quicker. We walked back to the apartment, Kim made dinner and after I walked Jake to the hotel so he could hang out with the students. Better for him to be with people his age rather than a couple of old people. After calling my mom (it is Sunday, after all - the rules don't change when you're overseas) I was in bed just after 11 p.m., while he made it home "a little later than that."