Luna Park

Luna Park is one of my favorite words in Italian. (And it's really only half Italian. Luna means moon.) Anyway, there was a huge fair/carnival type deal going on in town for the past 3 weeks (it ended two days ago actually) and I stumbled upon it as I was going to the nearby park for a bike ride. So here are some pictures for you to see some similarities and some interesting contrasts on how they do things here.


The loneliest bike trail in the world. It lasts a whole 4 blocks:


I just think these trees are weird. Like pitchforks with scraggly/shaggy pointy ends called branches.


'member I was talking about the Palio in Legnano? This is an official "contrada" sign, designating that if you live in this area, you must root for San Magno during the Palio.




Going to Kentucky, going to the fair, gonna see the signorita with the flower in her hair!


Flutes!


Lots of awesome, superfattening foods. Eh? Oh, nope, no Omega-3 fatty acids here though.


Rolling out the lard. She's the lard-roller-outer.




Every child's dream. Every parent's nightmare.


Lots of things (including half the supermarket) are in German. Wannabes.


One of the few places you'll see popcorn in Italy.




Most people (especially the women) are dressed in their Sunday best, which, effectively, would be any day of the week. (I was by far the most underdressed, with my chucks and a sweatshirt on.) Notice how the girl who works the carnival rides is dressed. (Oops, caught!)


Here's a picture of nothing that I took to make the woman think I wasn't being a weirdo and taking a pic of her when I actually was. Not too sure if that worked though.


Fairs here also present pet shops with disposable critters (the fine print on that cage says "Warning: the buyer consents to purchase of fuzzy friend, who will most likely die in 2 days, 5 max.")


I knew I was getting old when I took this pic and got dizzy just looking at that ride. Ugh.


Americans have that weird hit-the-base-as-hard-as-you-
can-with-a-sledge-hammer-game. Italians have the kick-the-soccer-ball-as-hard-as-you-can game (duh.)
(Oops, caught again! Wish I had a better picture of this guy-- he was so orangey from the tanning salon, he looked like a human-carrot hybrid.)


Nice hair and outfits, doods. In this region of Italy, these kinds of people (basically, Italian versions of guidos/guidettes and ghetto kids) are called "tamarri."


Superpunchout.


I cannot believe I bought and ate chestnuts from those dirty ass hands.


See the NY license plate?


Smurfs!? Holy shit!


There are also games for adults; namely, the throw-a-plastic-loop-around-a-glass- that-contains-the-thing-you-want-but-you-have-to-get-the-loop-
around-the-square-base-holding-up-the-cup-which-is-virtually-
impossible-hahahahah-dealer-always-wins-ya-sucker game.


Purty!


My mom likes these. Torrone or nuget bars.


Crappy cannolis... Just kidding. "Krapfen" is the German word for doughnuts or crullers.