6 to 25 April, 2021 - Bomba (and surrounds) - (Italy)
Cellar, before and after.
Please ignore the warped appearance of the beams in our "after" photo. I ended up taking a panorama scan.
Repainted, flame pellet heater installed, furnished, and styled. This is now our master bedroom.
Some Second Hand Purchases.
We have been having so much enjoyment shopping at the "used markets".
From left to right:
1) Bedside tables, with marble tops, probably 1950s, now painted and with new handles. Bedside lights from a similar era,
2) Set of 8 drawers in a pyramid - new handles are on order, and should be soon delivered. Top drawer is pretty useless, and the second can only be used for selected items - but the rest are fine for whatever.
3) A corner cabinet with shelves. A Moroccan lamp with a candle inside.
4) A very old brass bed warming pan, deserving of hot coals Age? No idea, Probably early 20th century.
5) Some glimpses of a couple of the pre-owned rugs that we have acquired,
So, the timeline for this entry begins a few weeks ago, around my birthday. And here begins the theme of Balance. Three weeks ago, on my birthday, we awoke to a light dusting of snow. It's hard to imagine, as this weekend, we are climbing throug the mid 20s. I have to confess, that it felt special, on my birthday, to have the flakes fluttering...
Birthday Morning
I awoke to find a dusting of snow for my birthday.
So, it was just a light, crisp, layer. Mid morning, and it was all gone.
By which time, we were thinking of lunch. Bithday lunch. What to do when covid restricrictions essentially mean take-away is the only option? You go black market! Clandestino. We had a tip off. An eatery operating with a nudge and a wink, say no more. Not far from Bomba. Armed with a convoluted set of directions, we turned up at what looked roughly right, but it was establishment that appeared to be closed. Should we even try? Do we need a secret knock? Would we be pressed for a code word?
Thankfully, it was not complicated - push the door, and walk in. At a large table in the corner, some familiar faces from our village beamed at us. They seemed pleased, even excited, that we were there. The place was doing quite a trade. Unexpectedly, a menu was handed to us. I had anticipated that we would get "plate of the day" only, but we had choice. Gnocchi and risotto for entree. Steak and fried cheese as our mains. Tiramisu for dolce. The vino flowed, and I even got a birthay whiskey, courtesy of one of the Bombesse fellow diners. I'd love to name the venue, but to protect the guilty, I shan't.
Clandestine Birthday Lunch - starters
Clandestine Birthday Lunch - mains
It has been a period of highs and lows. Thankfully, a lot of highs, and lows that were short lived. I have chosen a week to describe in points, to relay an insight. Obviously, not a typical week, rather a period that stood out from all that we have had in Italy so far. A bit of an emotional rollercoaster.
It sort of began on the Thursday. We left the municipal offices high fiving, clutching a piece of paper confirming registration of my residency in Bomba. This was, seemingly, the biggest hurdle in our moving forward, administratively. Friday morning, I bumped in to the town mechanic, who asked how we were, and I was smiling - I can now buy that car that he helped line up, and things were great.
Coming home, Jo offhandedly mentioned that she was having trouble with the wifi. Soon, I established we were without internet, and our phones were not working. I suspected the cause, and a stop at the phone shop confirmed my hypothesis - all three accounts were cancelled, as we had not set up direct debit from an Italian bank account. This should be easy, now that I have papers confirming my registration of residency? Alas, no. Reduced opening hours and fewer tellers meant we went from one bank to another with no success. "You need an appointment" was the most common excuse. One bank tried to help, but in a seemingly racist response, declared they had more stringent policies around holders of passports from Benelux nations, due to the problematic nature of how easitly they hand out citizenship to people from undesirable backgrounds... Was my birthplace of Port Moresby the reason?
Things were looking up a bit, when we finalised that we would buy the car we had reserved. In fact, the argument in Italian with an official was almost light relief. She would not choose "Olanda" (Holland) for my nationality, because my papers said I was from "Paesi Bassi" (The Netherlands). Lucky I was wearing a mask, to hide my expression. I stepped out for a few minutes, turned to Jo. "Smile, and breathe" I instructed myself, and went back in. A colleague of the stubborn lady ended up processing the papers.
We also prepared ourselves for the next few days, buy getting a sim with a good amount of data included.
Saturday and Sunday, no internet, no phone. And on a weekend we could really have benefited, primarily to find a competitive car insurance quote. Frustration was exacerbated by the useless sim that we had acquired to avoid just this. It turns out, a network setting was at fault, and a manual network entry was needed, but the guy in the shop had not set this up!
Monday was a day of improvement, half successes. We queued at a bank for nearly an hour, and they took our details and made an appointment to open an account. Half success. We went to the immigration department at Lanciano to begin Jo's permission to stay in Italy. We left with a more complete list of what was needed. Half success. We visited an insurance broker and got some car insurance quotes. Half success.
Tuesday, we awoke, and it felt like it was going to be a good day. We got our car, without any issues. Success. We got our bank account; although the hour it took will never be returned to us, and I really don't know why I had to sign so many times, over 30, perhaps more than 40. Success. The phone company accepted our direct debit and reactivated the phones and internet. Success. And a mistake in the car transfer documents was fixed in minutes with no argument or waiting. Success.
Finally, We Have Our Own Wheels
I have another rant about bureaucracy lined up, but maybe some diversionary pictures before I launch. I promise to try and be brief!
You Know You're European When ...
... you start bringing your furniture in via the balcony.
Pennadomo
Another gorgeous town, a stone's throw from our village. At the top of that rock, we had a fine view of the town, the lake, and our home in Bomba.
Pennadomo - From Above
Cafes are Serving ...
Coffee in the piazza, Bomba.
... and Restaurants are Open
Lunch in a Lanciano restaurant.
Even before we arrived in Italy, Jo had a mission. To walk from our front door to the top of Mone Pallano. This is the flat topped mountain behind Bomba. I had counted on 14-15 km return, but in reality, we turned it in to a small circuit with a cross country diverson. In the end, it was probably around 19 km. The top is now dominated by communication towers and dishes of many sizes. These are in stark contrast to nearby ruins from millenia past.
Panorama - Monte Pallano
The dystopian flat top of Monte Pallano. Not a soul to be seen, yet enough communication equipment to keep most of Italy connected.
Mura Megalitiche (Paladine) di Pallanum
A doorway in the megalithic wall at Pallanum, about 8 km from Bromba, near the top of Monte Pallano. Only a couple of hundred metres remains of the walls, dating some where about 400-500 BC, but reaching 5 metres at a couple of points.
A 2500 Year Old Doorway
One of the openings in the remaining stretch of wall at Pallanum.
We Earned our Drink
We walked around 18-19 kms that day. It was uphill first and by about halfway, we were out of water. Our return to Bomba, kind of marked, kind of off-piste, went past "Fonte Benedetti". In a clearing in the forest, with a few vague paths in and out, we drank our fill of, what had been promised by some locals, as sweet water.
Blind Worm
Not actually a snake, but a harmless "legless lizard". Known as a blind worm, or a slow worm, it is not blind, not that slow, and definitely not a worm. And it is not a snake - it's got to do with eyelids, ears, and what the fact they have short spines and how much of their bodies have internal organs...
OK, maybe less of a rant and more of a reflection. When faced with beauracracy, how do you balance assertiveness and amiability? When does being cooperative lapse into just being compliant, or even worse, being steamrolled? We have been told the Italian way would be for us to wave our arms and be demanding, but do you jeopardise furture interactions by behaving in such a way? Especially when, in a small town, you will most certainly be dealing with the same person on every visit?
In our case, there is a person who we have to deal with, regularly. When she does do things, we get a smile, and she does them properly, but we feel like there is a resistance to starting each job. There is no creative thinking in her answers that could have saved us heartache and many weeks of waiting. Case in point is my acquisition of an Italian identity card. Upon collection of papers stating that my residency was acknowledged, we asked in our best Italian "Would my identity card come in the mail or would we have to pick it up?" "Oh, no, the card is a different process entirely. All you get at the moment is this paper." We left confused, and returned the following week, "How do I get an identity card, then?" "I can sort that for you. Give me a passporrt photo and pay this amount." Three days later, my identity card arrived. Did it not occur to her to mention that when we first enquired, or was it just avoiding doing the task?
Another issue was registering our marriage. When we went in, I produced a copy of our marriage certificate along with a certified translation. "I'm sorry, I can't register your marriage. How can I possibly do that? You must understand that I don't have access to records that are not in Italy." Acknowledging that it was, kind of, a good point, we left, to give us a chance to recheck our understanding. We were troubled by the fact that the immigration office said it was required, and a phone call soon confirmed that we would have trouble getting Jo's permit without this registration of marriage being completed. Some days later, we returned to the desk and produced an original of our marriage certificate, with the same translation. She caved - "Oh, yes, if you have the original document, I can register the marriage." !#$%@! Couldn't you have mentioned that when we last conversed on the topic?
Smile, and breathe.
We are certain it is nothing personal. She always has a wave and a greeting for us when we see her around the village.
Balance. It's what we're hoping this life in Italy will bring for us. Balance.
