Sunday 31/7 ...continued

The church was full, so many people that people were invited to sit in the chancel in what normally would be the choir stalls, some of the youth and leaders sat there, while the rest of us sat in the front few rows of the church, the service was interesting, similar to the Eucharist in churches here and very close to the Latin mass, which I studied in uni, so I felt a little confident in some of the responses, with my limited Italian, I had a go...
Also for someone who sings and can pick up music, the sung responses in the service were easier to pick up, as you sing syllables sounds, its the same as singing in another language you learn the sounds and the notes, and if you sing in a choir then you follow others a slight half or quarter beat behind the rest. So again I had ago
After looking the priest in the eye which was odd, we finished the service, what I really liked was the relaxed atmosphere and the freedom to come and go, there was no expectancy to stay on beyond the service, or be there to start it was fine to be late, leave early no probs; the doors were going all the way through the service with people coming and going, it was refreshing to see that there was no pressure to be there, and the church was packed. [on a side note, i wonder if this attitude was because the camp was there, but the same thing the following week loads of people and very relaxed about going and coming to the service.]
Outside the church, the group walked to the town square, that was all fenced off, as we approached the 'new' town band was playing a selection of musical arrangements, which was different, don't think I've ever been welcomed by a brass band before, it was like being royalty, the band was playing as we arrived...the opening ceremony was a beautiful calamity, Sara tried to organise us into our retrospective countries, with some degree of success, before sorting the balloons out that were tired downs with super knots, because Monica and Linda (two Italian leaders) really struggled to get the balloons of the roof of the water house and give them out to the different countries' youths.
Ramanzacco's town Mayor welcomed everyone to the camp, and stated that the camp will be a great event for people to experience Italian culture and hospitality. The night before Gianluca told us that at a previous camp in Germany he was speaking in German and making the thank you speak but instead of thanking the Mayor or Bürgermeister for the hospitality, he actually thanked the caretaker or Hausmeister by mistake. Which I really wanted him to make that same mistake as he translated the mayor of Ramanzacco, is it really wrong that you want someone to make a mistake like that again? unfortunately he did not make any mistake in his translation, well as far as could tell, I did only get a G grade in my German GSCE... and I'm very proud of that people.

As part of the ceremony, the balloons I mentioned earlier, were to be launched into the air when the countries national anthem was played and sung; so in turn we sang our anthem then launched the balloons, the problem was everyone was distracted by the balloons that the singing wasn't the best.

After all the pomp and circumstance of the opening ceremony, it was time to eat, so on mass almost everyone in the town heads towards the dining hall, which was in the local infant school about ten minute walk from the place we were staying. As we sat down, we were given a plate, pointed in the way of the anti pasta dishes, yum yum, then came the pasta dishes, yum yum, oh the fish course, yum yum, turkey anyone, yum yum, seconds yum yum, room for desert, yum yum, Grappa? yum yum, glass of wine to wash it down with? yum yum ... so now I can't move anywhere, they now tell us we are going to the train station to visit a UNESCO world heritage town call Cividale; and I'm thinking time for a nap.

Sunday - 31/7

The bell rings throughout the corridors and class rooms, as I sat upright in an empty room, my heart sank as I realised that I was alone; two others were suppose to share the room with me, but where were they? Upset and concerned, I listened? then quiet at first, a noise rushed up, rising upwards and upwards, till the place erupted with life. Still confused as to the where about of my two room mates, I went investigating, I found one of my room mates emerging from a small office near the main entrance, whilst quizzing him it came to light that my snoring had forced them out and to seek sanctuary in a quieter part of the school.
So breakfast was a typical continental, beautiful meats freshly cut, fruits and cereals, cafe and chocolate...mmm hungry thinking about.
As the clock moved to on, the bell rang again, and the bells of the tall tower rang out across the small town, we toddled of to the local church for a special Holy Mass. The church was a typical roman style with beautiful paintings hanging on the wall, with a dove painted on the ceiling above the alter,in the chancel area...

Saturday, July 30

With sleep in my eye, my mother pulled up outside the door and blow the horn; falling down the stairs to answer the trumpet call, with excitement in my feet.
the car was loaded and we moved off to the assembly point, where the Mayor was waiting to give us a personal send off, as we boarded the small mini bus, eight young people from Blaenau Gwent and three other leaders were about to embark on the 1861km trip to the international youth twinning camp in Ramanzacco, Italy.

We rolled out on the heads of the valley road, with Mark at the helm and Allison plotting the course, we sailed down raglan road heading toward London town, sailing along the long run of the M4.

After several hours and all feeling a little tired we arrived Gatwick airport, were the start of all queues began, I've decided that airports are less exciting Disneyland, at least in Disneyland there are things to look at whilst you queue, with odd exceptions of a hot girl or guy just ahead of you, there is nothing airports need fibreglass rocks, happy music playing from underneath and perhaps a few animatronics would be good too...anyway first queue you join is to check in for your flight. the next queue is check your not smuggling anything onto the ride, like water or perfume or wine or coke...so once they've removed those things from you and anything else they fancy (theiving gits) only to give you the opportunity to buy it back at four times the street price and have the cheek to tell you its exempt of tax as if to say it would be more expensive outside the airport...bastards!

the next queue is for the departures board to tell you were our flight leaves from, which is more of a huddle or scrum rather than a queue, once you know what gate your flight leaves, this is where the rules of queues no not apply until you have reached the gate. You need to walk kind of like the Olympics sport power walking, its a unspoken rule, but you must not run to the gate, perhaps freestyle queue, then you arrive at the gate, and the queue reforms slightly altered because some people walk slowly. then you queue to get on the bus or plane, flight to where ever relax for a while in a chair, listen to music, have an expensive drink? and land in the place you want to be, only to stand in another queue half way round the world to tell them the same thing you told them in the country you just flew from. I hate airport now, with a passion.

So touch down in Venice...as we approach the floating city was off to the right of the plane, it was beautiful, the sun glinting of the sea highlighting each ancient building.