December 2004 ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE? Such a perfect day

Just over two years have passed and we have exchanged a very fast, stressful life for one that is a sheer pleasure.

I open my eyes and gaze at the blue Mediterranean sky, without a cloud in sight, and I certainly think it could be. It’s six in the morning and time for work, and for the first time in my life it’s a sheer pleasure to get out of bed, shower and don shorts and T-shirt in readiness for the day ahead. This has been my routine since late April and we are now in the closing days of August. The warmth is building, and the Sibillini Mountains stand proud in the morning sun. The silence is deafening. Time now for a shot of espresso on the terrace while I take in the scenery – the mountains, beautifully manicured fields kept in line by the local contadini, and birds of prey riding the thermals. I have been here in Le Marche close to the sleepy town of San Ginesio for two years now, and I never tire of this view – every day is different as one season drifts into the next.

With the coffee downed it’s time to lay out breakfast at Villa Sibillini Country House, which provides eight rooms and a very full-time occupation for myself, Pam (my wife) and Georgina, our 19-year-old daughter. We found the house in 2001, began restoration in June 2002, and finally opened our doors after restoration work was finished in February 2003. With breakfast duly sorted – pastries, juices, jams and fruit – I move on to the task of cleaning the pool. A tough job, but it has to be done, though sometimes it’s easier to simply get in and do it from the inside.

It’s 8am and we’re ready for guests. Time to indulge in that particularly English custom – watching the news and weather. What a surprise: it’s raining again in the UK. I take my second coffee on the terrace, checking the horizon for storm clouds, so I can tell our guests with confidence that the day ahead will be fine… Our first guests come down for breakfast, mentioning that they’ve never slept so well. Due, I tell them, to the fact that we are 2,500-feet above sea level and there is seldom a sound to break their slumber.

After a quick chat with guests, they leave armed with picnic baskets or details of which restaurants to visit or which factory shops have the best bargains. With breakfast over, preparations for lunch get underway. The rooms are serviced, then Pam, Georgina, Pam’s mum and I take a little time to sit on the terrace to reflect on our incredible achievements in such a short time. Just over two years have passed and we have exchanged a very fast, stressful life for one that, whilst still very busy and physically demanding, is a sheer pleasure every day. It’s not all plain sailing.

We do occasionally get difficult customers, of course, but when you’re in the frame of mind that I am, no one is really awkward – even if this were a 5-star hotel I would never be able to please everyone. There was one guest who demanded that I remove peel from her breakfast plums and de-seed grapes for her, and as I obliged by removing the offending fruit, returning them de-seeded and duly peeled, I did chuckle. The next morning I made sure sharp knives were available. The same lady treated our other guests to a view of her ‘smalls’, displayed for drying on the restaurant terrace. Two years ago this would have annoyed me, but now I look at the scenery and smile.

By day’s end our guests have eaten and it’s time for bed. Tomorrow may be the same, or there could be some sort of drama – we took a a phone call one afternoon from guests who had had a car accident, and who had no papers with them. Pam went off to rescue them. Me? I just poured a cold beer to enjoy from the sun chair while they were out.

FROM THERE TO HERE December 2004 ITALIA! 17 THE AUTHOR DAVID BATES