January 2005  THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW.....Dopo domani

LIFE HERE IS CERTAINLY NEVER DULL. While everything runs at a much slower pace, it means that anything you need to achieve takes that much longer as well. Just lately I’ve spent an hour outside the butchers, sitting on the long bench among the locals; they’re chatting while I’m reflecting on exactly how I ask for braising steak (fortunately, I’m armed with pen and paper and my Pictionary skills are excellent!). Next on the agenda is a trip to the sign-makers. We’ve been working with them for a year now and have made two separate requests to the authorities for permission for our Country House road signs, but we’re still miles from achieving anything. We are now told that the brown signs we asked for have to be white. Why did we ask for brown signs? Because the local authority told us they had to be brown. We were also told we could not have our phone number displayed – but surprise, surprise: another local B&B which has only just opened has signs with both phone number and web address prominently displayed. Have they got permission? I don’t know, but I suspect not.

An appointment at the doctor’s with daughter Georgina takes us three hours. Signing up is the easy part – but waiting for the doctor? Finally, she decides that blood tests are needed and we hand over €40. Back at Villa Sibillini, David is attempting to get the plumber and electrician to co-operate. He is threatening to lock them both in the boiler room until they can sort out their differences. We’ve used each of them separately for the job in question and, of course, each blames the other for the current problem. At the same time, a lorry arrives to deliver our wine and beer – only it’s stuck in the bottom of the car park in a muddy puddle. Not to worry, though: our farming neighbour Rocky will arrive on his pre-War tractor to save the day (this isn’t the first time). The only problem is that Rocky is having lunch and arrives two hours later – a little worse for the vino cotto. Meandering down the hill, he manages to drive into the washing line and scoop up my aunty’s best green blouse, which is now fetchingly wrapped around his head. Why, oh why didn’t we have the video or camera to hand...

We find out during the day that our guests – due to arrive from Ireland – are missing. David waits up until 2am before retiring. Incidentally, they had booked in for a meal, as well. Next morning, there’s still no sign of them – no phone call, nothing. At 3.30pm a call comes in from Ancona: they had arrived but were unable to hire a car and therefore had to be taken to a local hotel, as a taxi here would have cost €200. They will try again to get a car and call us. No phone call. At lunchtime on day three, they call to let us know they are on their way... They had booked for three nights and would now like to extend their stay with us, but having missed the first two days, we can take them for only one night. A quick phone call to a friend with a nearby B&B resolves the problem. They were, however, great fun and didn’t want to leave. We finally said our goodbyes and they took off for the coast without booking anywhere to stay.

The moral of the tale? Come to Italy with an open mind, plenty of good humour and all the time in the world to reflect on the differences. Don’t have any preconceived ideas of what’s right or wrong; simply soak up the culture, the friendship and the fabulous hospitality. However, you can go too far and almost become a native. David seems to have adopted everything about Italy – he certainly can’t get anything done between 1 and 5pm! His new phrase? Dopo domani. 
FROM THERE TO HERE January 2005 ITALIA! THE AUTHOR PAM BATES

February 2005 TIME TO FLY? The clothes here are great, but it’s not easy to find things that fit when you’re female and nearly six feet tall...

WELL, WHAT CAN I SAY? I’m living in Italy – a life that some people will only ever dream of! I have lived here for over two years, got myself a fella (Italian, of course), a new best mate and am now fluent in Italian – and I even know a little local dialect. It’s nearly Natale (Christmas) here and things are much the same as you’d expect back home: the shops are full of decorations, toys and panettone cake.