I doubt this week’s Guess Where in Italy? photo-quiz will cause those who know Italy too many problems.

Indeed, I am expecting Blog from Italy reader and Enchanting Italy blogger, Nora, to find the answer to this quiz even more quickly than she usually does.  Nora, it has to be said, is very good at identifying the Italian places shown in the images which have been featured in this Guess where in Italy? series.

Can you beat Nora?  Quite frankly, I doubt it.  Still, you can always prove me wrong!

On to the image of somewhere in Italy which I think is well worth visiting, if you have not done so already, that is.

OK, I’ll call this a church, even if this is not wholly accurate, but if I tell what kind of church it is, this will become even easier!

Where is this hilltop church in Italy?

Can you guess where this church is in Italy?

You have until Saturday to guess where this church is in Italy, and what it is known as.

I’ll post a clue on Friday, if nobody has managed to guess correctly by then.

There is no prize for getting the answer right, as this is just for fun, and for you to show the world how well you know Italy.

Answers on a comment please.  Happy guessing!

Watch out for future Guess Where in Italy? photo-quizzes on Blog from Italy, as a small Italian flavour prize may well be on offer.  I’ll reveal more another time.

Where’s the best place in Italy for festivals? There is no doubt in my mind: Sardinia, plain and simple.

I don’t mean to send your to the Costa Smeralda, the Emerald Coast, where rowdy rich politicians hang with their Mafia buddies and a beer costs more than your rental car. You have to go inland.

Yes, the dusty heart of Sardinia is where the action is—and it seems like it’s getting a lot of play lately. The Herald de Paris offers us: Mamuthones: soul of Sardinia, heritage of humanity

Yep, that’s a dummy Mamuthone on the left up there. He guards a shop that offers masks and other traditional things for sale in the heart of Sardinia. Nobody exactly knows what the symbolic overload in stheir costume stand for anymore, but anyone willing to carry 30 kilos of oversize sheep bells on their back is ok with me. They do that and more at festivals, including roping unsuspecting tourists who thought they were going to be only passive viewers of the weirdest parade they’d ever seen.

The festival closest to my heart is L’Ardia di San Costantino. I saw it five years running. I even saw it on television once. You can’t imagine how deeply a religious horse race can resonate with a culture until you’ve witnessed such a thing while you were living with the 2000 or so people of the little village of Sedilo. Well, not until you’ve shared a glass of Vernaccia with every darn one of them. The same glass I mean.

And just today I discovered some coverage of the Ardia a piedi. I have fond memories of a race I and my archaeologist compatriots lost miserably.

If it seems that these festivals are the festivals of a people lost in an ancient culture, I’m reminded that the very first talking cash register I ever heard was in a little vegetable stand in Sedilo. “Vente mille lire per favore!” it would cry out so you could empty your wallet.

That was over 25 years ago, an idea that just didn’t seem to catch on…