Encounters of the normal kind

A fire warden butts out his cigarette on the ground and asks us to step back so the pyrotechnic specialist can pour flammable liquid on that same ground in preparation for his fire stunt. The irony of this doesn't register with those around me and I have to remind myself again that this is Italy after all. Even behind me a mother scolds her son for eating too much watermelon and not enough gelato. Her son doesn’t notice though as the fire show is starting in the square of San Vittore del Lazio. This small town, just 2 hours drive from Rome, take the annual 3 day Festa Mediavale seriously, even nominating town king and queen to preside over the events.
By this point the town has already witnessed sword fighting, flag throwing and even interpretive dance that has allowed them to wholeheartedly embrace the medieval atmosphere around them. Although not many medieval buildings still stand after the devastation of the 2nd world war, this is irrelevant to the pride and anticipation the town places on this festival.
After the fire breather finishes his performance passing around a rather large menacing snake, I feel my stomach calling for some medieval fare. I search through my small hessian sack to count my terracotta coins that I had exchanged my Euros for at the entrance and wander down the thin cobbled streets to see what 20 coins can get. There are many large stalls lined up selling all traditional foods and I decide on some hearty lamb shank stew with crusty pane di casa which makes me feel like a true 14th century Italian.
Around me many of the locals are enjoying traditional mead, as this is the last night of the festival they are making sure it counts. Others are perusing the various small stalls selling home-made tokens of leather and wood, some stands even have fun demonstrations on how daily objects would have been made 600 years ago. By happy coincidence I find myself down at the sweet shop and after some language issues and a great heap of pointing and nodding I finish my meal with loveheart shaped waffles topped with the Italian institution that is Nutella.
Back at the square the final show is starting, I reach it just in time to see an eagle flying through fluorescent hoops held up by small children. I sense that this party is going to carry on well through the night but the drive back to Rome is a winded road so I head back to the car early. It’s midnight when I leave but I still grab an espresso with my last few coins because, hey it’s Italy.