Cacciarasca - 9.9.12

We went to church this morning with the Genoa ward.  We got there just in time for the sacrament.  A girl translated the meeting into English for us.  She was a missionary in Washington D.C. with the Packs from White Rock, NM.  Small world.
We rented a car and headed for the hills.  We went up to the mountains by Parma.  We had some really good Parmesan cheese.  I guess any cheese in Parma is Parmesan.  But the reason we were going there is to visit the home of my mother's (and my) ancestors: a little town called Cacciarasca.  It's only a few houses and a church, but her Italian great-grandmother told her about it when she was a child.  We think we found the house she lived in because it looks old, it has a lower level for animals, and there aren't many houses in the village, but the locals seemed to be saying that all of the Pizzagonis have moved away or died.  We were lucky to find a few people that spoke some English, and one guy spoke a little German.  I overheard him singing the German national anthem as he got into his car.
The locals also told us that the mushroom festival in Albareto is this evening, so of course we had to go.  It's not every day that you get to go to a mushroom festival.  We went and found them serving mushroom-based dishes, so we ordered some.

We drove back and got stuck in a traffic jam. There sure are a lot of tunnels here. We dropped off the rental car at the airport and took a taxi back. The taxi driver drove so fast the wheels squeaked, ran 2 red lights and a stop sign, and whistled "Yankee Doodle".