It ’s Sunday evening after a harrowing day and we have reached our final destination. We are welcomed with open arms by Pasquale, our landlord and local entrepreneur and his lovely mama, Anna. It’s good to be back again.
After a few more pleasant exchanges, we made our way home to the apartment where we would be staying for a week or so. I sent Peter out to a restaurant across the street for some pizza and to see if he could find a martini ( yeah good luck). A little unpacking to settle in and find one’s toothbrush while Peter locates an English speaking channel.
The apartment is not why I came to Italy it’s why Peter came. It is modernly finished and furnished; two flat screen TVs( essential one in BR) centrally located, microwave oven, lovely bathroom, you get the picture!
WEEK One:
MONDAY: Well I told Peter the tourist-eating- out-every-meal was basically over and now we were “living” here so we better go to the grocery store. We are near the Deco Supermarket, our next destination. “Just a few things”, I say, “ the essentials,” which came to $94 € later and now the store manager loves me. Probably no one else has spent that much money at one time in his store in who knows when, PLUS the cane and boot,
I’m excited to cook something that night but there may be an issue with the gas. Or it may be something lost in translation but I’m afraid to start cooking pasta and have the gas run out in the middle and I’m not getting the reassurance I need to hear from Pasquale who says he can check tomorrow. SOOoooo Peter goes to Pasquale’s bar to buy a chicken for dinner and I decide to make a fancy insalata. My idea did not go over so well.
Radicchio, fennel red onion and oranges just didn’t make it as salad for him. We did have a good laugh though when we figured out that we were renting a place that should have gas but maybe didn’t from Pasquale so in order to eat, we buy a chicken from him. Works out really well for him!
TUESDAY: When we stay at the apartment, we can go to the bar in the morning if we wish, and have grande caffe Americano, one nero and one con latte calde and our choice of a brioche. This sort of uinversal breakfast pastry varies in form and name and filling. In Florence they were smaller and referred to as a cornetto, in the U.S.A. I’ve heard them called croissants, at Orso’s it’s a bioche with cream or marmaletta or ciocolatta, or a fruit tart. We sit outside, sip our coffee, Peter reads The NY Times because his wonderful wife got a month’s subscription on her kindle for him! We spent about two hours soaking up sunshine in the garden.
WEDNESDAY: As we sat having our usual morning coffee, we were introduced to Steve and Cindy, a couple from Arizona who moved to Guardia in January permanently. Of course that opens up a conversation of a million questions and answers. As it turned out we were going to see a house for sale that was just doors down from them. Unfortunately when you say a few doors down from someone in Guardia you could be talking about a 45 degree angle of uneven stones. They came along with us to preview the house which had a most spectacular view!
The crane to the left is there because they are working on the building that was a former convent. This view was from the terrace!! LOVE it. But you can’t live outside even if you plan only to come in the spring or fall. The kitchen had been modernized and had a fireplace which was probably the only source of heat. That was the only room on the first floor, maybe two steps up the staircase, there was a bathroom branched off. BIG problem there – the stairs wind a bit upwards and are marble. How would I ever get down in the middle of the night? One level up was a big bedroom and then another level up there was two smaller bedrooms which could be opened to make one large. Well that’s too too many stairs and made of marble, not to mention I was pretty sure there was a leak in the roof and some water damage in the walls. No sale today.
THURSDAY: We wake up to a gray day and I notice a message on WhatsApp from Pasquale. It’s in Italian but I think it says we should move the car because we may be over the hour – that’s my rough translation. I send Peter down to move the car to the bottom of the staircase and I will get myself down. As I descend, it starts to rain, I don’tsee the car! I keep going down, it’s raining harder, no car, I’m at the bottom and it is a downpour and still the car is where it was parked. I am screaming curses as I hobble with cane to the car and get in soaked to the skin, wondering how and why the car had not been started and backed up before I got down the stairs? Don’t bother, there is no sane answer. For a moment we discuss the message about moving the car and we are going to head to the bar BUT it has started to hail! YES, it is May and it is hailing, big marble size pellets.
Not only was the car being drummed with ice marbles, the street was also flooding. We were parked probably closer to the more level upper end but below us it just went gushing past.
All good things come to an end, even hail,storms, so we headed down to the bar to assure Pasquale that the windows were shut! However, it’s Giovedi and apparently almost every place in Guardia is closed. No one told us. One little cafe up the road was open so we stopped in for a slice of pizza and a delightful arancini which is a rice ball stuffed with some sauce and peas and mozzarella.
To be continued…
NO PASSING – NO KIDDING! 
WHO GOES FIRST?
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