One morning in Lake Garda, where our hotel was directly on the water, we were woken up by the following:
As the boat approached, M and LP who were watching closely started laughing when they realized that it carried not only a full-on marching band, but also what they declared to be a "giant sausage".
The boat came to shore right next to our window, the marching band got out, continuing their cheerful playing. Then a crane took the giant sausage out, still attached to its table and all, and slowly unloaded it to a truck that carried it a little further on the main old town piazza.
Excited, we quickly got dressed and ran down to see what that was all about. We could hear the band still playing, in between several speeches where la mortadella was repeatedly mentioned. We never knew what the occasion was, but in between the outpours of Italian, I somehow deciphered that the giant sausage weighed 1,300 kg (2,866 lbs).
A lot of people were gathered on the square, where la mortadella had been solemnly placed under a tent, and surrounded with tables. Several people were laboriously cutting into the sausage, and then slapping it in between little buns, to make sandwiches for everyone to enjoy.
I don't really like mortadella, and certainly not so early in the morning on an empty stomach, but LP said his sandwich was really good. Although I must admit that in typical LP fashion, half of the bread ended up going to the lake swans, and half of the meat to the hotel's friendly cat.