The thick of it

I took this photograph in 1999, when we were walking along a strada bianca near Pienza: it hardly does justice to the lichen, an extraordinary colour. I remembered it this morning, as I caught up with the latest goings on in The thick of it. It really does get better and better - and in the whole hour of this bumper episode there isn't a single F word (well, in direct speech anyway). How do they keep a straight face?

I couldn't watch it on Saturday as we were at the Parabola Arts Centre, where they were showing a recording of the Royal Opera's 2011 Tosca: a great cast, and - still more important - Antonio Pappano conducting. Before we went out, there was another Royal Opera House recording on Radio 3: Otello, Pappano again conducting. And earlier in the day, I'd been catching up on the Covent Garden Ring. Conductor? Pappano again.

Caroline's week-long Wagner widowhood ended last night. The highlights of this Ring for me were Act 2 of Die Walküre, with Sarah Connolly outstanding; and Act 2 of Götterdämmerung last night - Tomlinson terrific as Hagen, notwithstanding that wobble: only to be expected in a 66-year-old. (What contemporary relevance in the Prologue too - with all the Norns' talk about ash dieback.)

Are there other operas besides Tosca and Götterdämmerung where all the principals end up dead? (Is there a post on my blog containing more hyperbole?)

La Scala

We are home again after our eight days abroad. My head is swimming from side to side rather, from so much rail travel - six different trains today alone. It's swimming, too, from many rich experiences.

This time yesterday, we were enjoying (very much) a Debussy/Ravel concert in the wondrous setting of Milan's great opera house. I had seen it before from the outside, but it was closed for repair in 2001, when Thomas and I spent Easter Monday exploring the city.

Our train from Florence arrived in time for a pavement lunch near the Brera yesterday: thus fortified, we tackled what for me (despite only one previous visit) rates as a favourite collection. It's not too large, but nearly all top notch. And amazingly almost empty. We then set off for an ice cream, and to show Caroline a different sort of gallery, the Vittorio Emanuele arcade.

En route, you can't miss La Scala, and there outside was one of its characteristic yellow bills announcing that the Orchestre National de France (under music director Daniele Gatti) were in town - and playing at 9 p.m. that evening as part of the MITO Festival.

Returning at 8.30, you could see at once that this was a high fashion occasion. I felt a little under-dressed in my shorts, but despite the plentiful décolleté all round us, there were no armed soldiers turning away the scantily clad, as at the entrance to the Duomo earlier. The box office seemed more than happy to let us in to the Gallery - the tickets, a mere five euro each. What's more, the concert began with a bonne bouche: to commemorate the life of Milan's late beloved Cardinal Martini, there was the Ave Maria from Otello, Act IV. I can't think of any religious leader whose passing might attract quite such treatment at our Royal Opera House.