Olive Knitting

So we were sitting in a restaurant last night, having some din and listening to some music with a couple of our Thanksgiving participants. They were Maberga virgins before last Sunday, now they can't get the place out of their minds.

In fact, the husband was talking all about his journey to the top of the world for American thanksgiving at work the other day. His colleague says, "yeah. I know Maberga! Ya know how it got it's name?"

Here's his story.

During the Roman times, Taggia (the town at the bottom of the mountain, our mother town, if you will) was a prosperous, reputable town (not that it isn't now, but I guess it was more so then...2000 years ago). Being an honourable, high class place, Taggia needed a place where they could send their undesirables...you know in the same way England needed Australia.

So these unwanted misfits were banished to a place far away in the mountains where they had to fight the elements and search for water and grow their own food. They called this place Mal Bergo, which of course in Latin means "the bad town" or maybe "the town of the bad" or, you know, something like that (my latin isn't what it used to be).

Over time, it's become known simply as Maberga...home to misfits who fight the elements, search for water and grow their own food.

Thanksgiving - Mal Bergo style



I'm just kidding. That's a 5 star hotel somewhere in Piedmont.

Ours looked like this