A couple of nights ago Marco and I met up for a drink at Urbe. Paolo poured glasses of red and we picked over the plates of snacks set out on the bar. Outside the low clouds were drizzling steadily into the fields, which have abruptly changed to shocking green after months of drought.

I told Marco about recent chaos at work that might require me to spend more time in the UK. He was puzzled when I explained that I disliked the idea of being pulled away from Marche to spend more time in London – especially at pista time. I told him if I had to choose between career and the pista, I think I’d probably pick the pista.

And he told me about work on his building sites recently grinding to a halt.

Most of my workers are out sick, he said.

I found this odd as Marco probably has fifteen or twenty guys working for him. What’s going on? How come they’re all out sick?

It’s the rain. As soon as it starts they fall ill.

In my head, I saw the Sicilian brickies and Albanian plasterers pulling their duvets over their heads and snuggling down further into their beds, unwilling to face the freshening weather. They can’t all be sick – they must be skiving.

No it’s true, he said. As soon as the weather changes, all their backs go out.

Collectively?

Yes, all their backs go out and they can’t work. It’s the sudden change in weather. It’s very bad for their backs.

I eyed him suspiciously for a moment and when it was clear he was being earnest I started laughing into my glass. Marco gazed steadily back, smiling blankly. I had to put my wine down so I could make proper wild gestures. That’s ridiculous. I hope you’re not paying them.

Oh yeah, I’m paying them sick pay. It happens every year. I felt my back start to go as soon as the rain started but as the boss I had to carry on.

You’re all a bunch of hypochondriacs. I can’t believe you believe this stuff.

It’s true. Doesn’t your back give you trouble when the weather changes? No? Maybe it’s because you’re still young.

No it’s because I’m not Italian.

And I thought to myself, there’s another good reason for sticking around – so you can watch the men go into spasms and fall over as soon as the rain starts in autumn. Truffles, chestnuts, and men toppled over in the leaves clutching their lower backs. Ah, Italy.