Living in Italy
Posted 06-03-08 at 01:41 PM by jowilliams
BLOG 1
When someone suggested that I should write a “blog” I had to ask what a “blog” was. The idea sounded like fun so here I go!
This first blog is, I hope, the most difficult to write. I have tried several alternatives. In the end, if I am going to share my experiences you probably need to know, who I am, and how I came to be living in Le Marche, writing this “Bridget Jonesey” account of life in a medieval Le Marche hilltop village.
Here goes!
I was born in Swansea on the 12th of December 1972. Shortly after, my family moved to a hamlet in the countryside outside Carmarthen. I went to Cynwyl Elfed Primary School and spent my holidays climbing trees, swimming in the river, helping on the steam train that ran through our land, and becoming an honarary member of Swansea's St Jude's scouts. It was a wonderful life! I was the railway child! Life moves on, and I progressed to Queen Elizabeth Cambria Comprehensive school. Fortunately, more good times were ahead here. Once again I was lucky enough to attend an excellent school and always look back on these days with a smile. Next step – The University of Keele, Stoke on Trent.
It is impossible to think of Keele without thinking about the friends that I made there. They were, and remain,very special – and I was luckily enough to have met them all within my first 2 days. Education finished, my degree took me into the legal profession and I spent the next 6 years in Leek, Staffordshire. I didn't really enjoy being a solicitor, working 9-5, but I met my husband and Leek Hockey Club. More happy times, but perhaps too much beer and definitely too many indian take-aways!!
And then – my husband and I decided to buy, and move to, a country home in France. I spent hours searching the websites and identifying several possibilities. Having come up with the list, my husband said - have a look at Tuscany. Ok, I said and searched some more. I went back to him with a print out describing Le Marche and we were enthusiastic.
Four weeks later (January 2003) we arrived in Le Marche for the weekend to view properties with two estate agents. Unfortunately we missed the Stansted-Ancona flight and had to fly to Rome, missing friday afternoon's appointments with one agent. Saturday's appointments were a disaster. We were not taken to see any property that we had wanted to see ,and those that we saw were entirely unsuitable. We spent the evening at Grottamare, dining and talking. What were we going to do on Sunday? We had seen one house near Petritoli – tiny, overpriced, north-facing and in a dip. We decided to go back and see it. The countryside around was stunning. The village beautiful. We had a lovely dinner and the next morning set off for Petritoli.
Walking down the dirt track to the tiny overpriced house in the January sunshine, I looked up, and stopped. There on the hillside above was one of the houses that we should have seen with the other agent on friday afternoon. We clamboured up to it through beautiful olive trees and less beautiful bambles. We stood outside, telephoned the agent on our mobile, and offered the full asking price there and then. I had never been to Italy before.
January 2004 we arrived in Petritoli, with Murphy our border collie.
I arrived knowing only my husband and not speaking Italian. We separated within 9 months. I still hardly knew anybody and having spent most of my time gardening my language skills were not much better. My husband returned to the UK and I stayed. Single, aged 31, no income, no car, no friends.
I am often asked why I stayed. To be fair, I often asked myself the same question. I do not have a definitive answer (Tony Blair, political correctness and Guardian readers may be partly to blame!).
Admittedly, the first 6 months alone were extremely difficult. Luckily wine costs 35p a glass or about £1.50 for 5 litres (fortunately I stuck to the glass option or perhaps I would not be here writing today). Those months are a bit of a blur, lots of wine, sigarettes (also cheap!) and tears. I was at the lowest point in my life and didn't particularly like the italians (or myself).
Today, I am glad that I stayed. I enjoy living here more and more as I become used to, and understand, the cultural and characteristic differences. I am lucky in that I spend my days exploring historic italian houses, the countryside and villages of southern Le Marche helping people to find their dream italian home. I have also met some wonderful italians. I am now an established member of Petritoli and I feel that Petritoli is my home.
Le Marche is beautiful.
Rolling hills, their summits capped by fortified villages, their valleys characterised by lonely farmhouses set amidst olive groves, vineyards, orchards and fields of wheat and sunflowers, framed on one side by the majestic Appenine mountain chain and on the other by the blue of the Adriatic sea: Le Marche! Its natural beauty is ever changing. The different seasons, the changing weather, the sunrises and the sunsets, combine together to ensure that you never see the same view twice.
This extraordinary natural beauty of Le Marche is matched by the wonder of its villages. The true heart of this region is in these small historic centres. It is in these villages that you will discover the real Le Marche and its people. Each village has its own history that is reflected in its design and architecture, its art, its traditions and customs, its cuisine, its sagras and festivals and of course, its people.
Petritoli is perched on the top of a hill overlooking the Val D'Aso (the most important horticultural valley in Le Marche – spring blossom to take your breath away!), 20 minutes from the sea, in the newly created Province of Fermano, the most beautiful province (alongside Ascoli Piceno) in Le Marche. It has a population of 2500, shops, bank, post office, school, theatre and most importantly: bars and restaurants. We have 3 bars and 4 restaurants and perhaps another restaurant will open next year. Everything I need is here, except marmite (HP brown sauce and Heinz baked beans are only 20 mins away).
The bars and the Church combine together to form the heart of this small community. I spend far too much time in the bars, but I enjoy it. Years of sitting in the bars, reading the local newspapers, have not only helped me improve my non-existant italian language skills, but have also helped me to understand the community in which I have chosen to live. Italian bars have the wonderful characteristic of being Cafe's during the daytime and bars in the evening (with some overlap). This means that almost everyone visits them at some point during the day, including the priest, the Carabinieri, the local Guardia, the council workers, and if I am really lucky, the forestry police! Well they have very nice uniforms and guns!
The Church serves much the same purpose in bringing people together on a regular basis. Unfortunately whilst the church bells call the locals to Mass, they call me to the bar. Sunday mornings I often feel that I am walking the wrong way down a one way street – and maybe I am......
This community feeling is very special and is seen at its best before and during the festivals held in the village. Italy is the country of festivals. The evening that we arrived with out removal van we were met by a display of fireworks over the village. Had we had the energy to go up into the centre we would have found a small fire in one of the Piazza's, food and wine being served out of one of the cellars, and the locals milling around enjoying themselves. It was the festa of Saint Anthony, the saint of animals, celebrated every year in the village by scaring the living daylights out of them with loud explosions. Not to worry, the next day you can take them to the priest to be blessed – and yes, Murphy has been blessed by Petritoli's priest.
The main festival in Petritoli is the Festa Della Cove, held the weekend of the second sunday of July. It is a truly magnificent record of the history and traditions of the village and a testimony to the hard work put in by the local residents. Food, wine, music, dancing, absolutely beautiful floats and lots and lots of smiling. Worth a visit!
A few days ago my doorbell rang at 7.30 and I found a neighbour outside handing me a cabbage and a lettuce. Obviously in the UK I would have immediately called social services. Here I take it for what it is – a simple gesture of kindness and generosity.
Le Marche is beautiful and has all the ingredients for a wonderful life (and a long one – the longest in Europe apparently!): wonderful architecture, art, festivals, food, wine, landscape and blue skies much of the time. It is not however “Paradise”, it is Italy.
The main topics of complaint seem to relate to the bureaucracy, house restoration disasters and Italian men.
The bureaucracy does not bother me and I think it is exaggerated. Perhaps people who have not had awful experiences with builders or Italian men just need something to complain about. Ok, they may have had bad experiences that I have been fortunate enough to avoid, but I have been here 3 years, and whilst I agree a little patience is required, the italians are usually so helpful that it is just another interesting experience for me. I also have no problem paying the bank charges for having a current account. All the bank staff know me and greet me by my name whether in the bank, the street or the bar. How refreshing!
House restoration. I am about to buy an apartment to restore. I feel relaxed about it despite the horror stories that I have heard. I know several excellent italian project managers and my problem is going to be choosing between them.
Others have been less fortunate. As in the UK, project managers and builders here in Le Marche come in all shapes and sizes. Some appear to behave in the most devious and despicable manner. I have met people who have been left penniless with a half finished house, oscillating between tears and anger. It is a sad situation as it has a negative effect on the relations between locals and angry foregners. It is important to remember that British builders come in all shapes and sizes too.
Italian men – this is my favourite topic of complaint – well it seems that we all need at least one! I could write a book. Animals! They should all be locked up! Only joking: leave me the Forestry Police and maybe a few Carabinieri to keep them in order! Unfortunately I will be unable to share some of my personal experiences with you. Petritoli is my home. I can say however that I have been attacked twice and propositioned far too many times by local married men. It didn't happen in the UK – then again I was neither beautiful nor elegant there!! My most recent admirer is 85. Despite his generous offer of his apartment and his pension when he dies I did decline his proposal of marriage! At least I can say that I am single through choice!!!
Not wanting to finish this blog on a negative note I would just like to say that today, 5th March 2007, there is not a cloud in the sky and temperatures are expected to reach 20 degrees. I have just been offered 2 cappuccinos and sat in the bar discussing crime, drugs and young people today, with an elederly italian woman. I am now going to take Murphy for a walk in the countryside and listen to the silence, interrupted by birdsong.......
Ci sentiamo
When someone suggested that I should write a “blog” I had to ask what a “blog” was. The idea sounded like fun so here I go!
This first blog is, I hope, the most difficult to write. I have tried several alternatives. In the end, if I am going to share my experiences you probably need to know, who I am, and how I came to be living in Le Marche, writing this “Bridget Jonesey” account of life in a medieval Le Marche hilltop village.
Here goes!
I was born in Swansea on the 12th of December 1972. Shortly after, my family moved to a hamlet in the countryside outside Carmarthen. I went to Cynwyl Elfed Primary School and spent my holidays climbing trees, swimming in the river, helping on the steam train that ran through our land, and becoming an honarary member of Swansea's St Jude's scouts. It was a wonderful life! I was the railway child! Life moves on, and I progressed to Queen Elizabeth Cambria Comprehensive school. Fortunately, more good times were ahead here. Once again I was lucky enough to attend an excellent school and always look back on these days with a smile. Next step – The University of Keele, Stoke on Trent.
It is impossible to think of Keele without thinking about the friends that I made there. They were, and remain,very special – and I was luckily enough to have met them all within my first 2 days. Education finished, my degree took me into the legal profession and I spent the next 6 years in Leek, Staffordshire. I didn't really enjoy being a solicitor, working 9-5, but I met my husband and Leek Hockey Club. More happy times, but perhaps too much beer and definitely too many indian take-aways!!
And then – my husband and I decided to buy, and move to, a country home in France. I spent hours searching the websites and identifying several possibilities. Having come up with the list, my husband said - have a look at Tuscany. Ok, I said and searched some more. I went back to him with a print out describing Le Marche and we were enthusiastic.
Four weeks later (January 2003) we arrived in Le Marche for the weekend to view properties with two estate agents. Unfortunately we missed the Stansted-Ancona flight and had to fly to Rome, missing friday afternoon's appointments with one agent. Saturday's appointments were a disaster. We were not taken to see any property that we had wanted to see ,and those that we saw were entirely unsuitable. We spent the evening at Grottamare, dining and talking. What were we going to do on Sunday? We had seen one house near Petritoli – tiny, overpriced, north-facing and in a dip. We decided to go back and see it. The countryside around was stunning. The village beautiful. We had a lovely dinner and the next morning set off for Petritoli.
Walking down the dirt track to the tiny overpriced house in the January sunshine, I looked up, and stopped. There on the hillside above was one of the houses that we should have seen with the other agent on friday afternoon. We clamboured up to it through beautiful olive trees and less beautiful bambles. We stood outside, telephoned the agent on our mobile, and offered the full asking price there and then. I had never been to Italy before.
January 2004 we arrived in Petritoli, with Murphy our border collie.
I arrived knowing only my husband and not speaking Italian. We separated within 9 months. I still hardly knew anybody and having spent most of my time gardening my language skills were not much better. My husband returned to the UK and I stayed. Single, aged 31, no income, no car, no friends.
I am often asked why I stayed. To be fair, I often asked myself the same question. I do not have a definitive answer (Tony Blair, political correctness and Guardian readers may be partly to blame!).
Admittedly, the first 6 months alone were extremely difficult. Luckily wine costs 35p a glass or about £1.50 for 5 litres (fortunately I stuck to the glass option or perhaps I would not be here writing today). Those months are a bit of a blur, lots of wine, sigarettes (also cheap!) and tears. I was at the lowest point in my life and didn't particularly like the italians (or myself).
Today, I am glad that I stayed. I enjoy living here more and more as I become used to, and understand, the cultural and characteristic differences. I am lucky in that I spend my days exploring historic italian houses, the countryside and villages of southern Le Marche helping people to find their dream italian home. I have also met some wonderful italians. I am now an established member of Petritoli and I feel that Petritoli is my home.
Le Marche is beautiful.
Rolling hills, their summits capped by fortified villages, their valleys characterised by lonely farmhouses set amidst olive groves, vineyards, orchards and fields of wheat and sunflowers, framed on one side by the majestic Appenine mountain chain and on the other by the blue of the Adriatic sea: Le Marche! Its natural beauty is ever changing. The different seasons, the changing weather, the sunrises and the sunsets, combine together to ensure that you never see the same view twice.
This extraordinary natural beauty of Le Marche is matched by the wonder of its villages. The true heart of this region is in these small historic centres. It is in these villages that you will discover the real Le Marche and its people. Each village has its own history that is reflected in its design and architecture, its art, its traditions and customs, its cuisine, its sagras and festivals and of course, its people.
Petritoli is perched on the top of a hill overlooking the Val D'Aso (the most important horticultural valley in Le Marche – spring blossom to take your breath away!), 20 minutes from the sea, in the newly created Province of Fermano, the most beautiful province (alongside Ascoli Piceno) in Le Marche. It has a population of 2500, shops, bank, post office, school, theatre and most importantly: bars and restaurants. We have 3 bars and 4 restaurants and perhaps another restaurant will open next year. Everything I need is here, except marmite (HP brown sauce and Heinz baked beans are only 20 mins away).
The bars and the Church combine together to form the heart of this small community. I spend far too much time in the bars, but I enjoy it. Years of sitting in the bars, reading the local newspapers, have not only helped me improve my non-existant italian language skills, but have also helped me to understand the community in which I have chosen to live. Italian bars have the wonderful characteristic of being Cafe's during the daytime and bars in the evening (with some overlap). This means that almost everyone visits them at some point during the day, including the priest, the Carabinieri, the local Guardia, the council workers, and if I am really lucky, the forestry police! Well they have very nice uniforms and guns!
The Church serves much the same purpose in bringing people together on a regular basis. Unfortunately whilst the church bells call the locals to Mass, they call me to the bar. Sunday mornings I often feel that I am walking the wrong way down a one way street – and maybe I am......
This community feeling is very special and is seen at its best before and during the festivals held in the village. Italy is the country of festivals. The evening that we arrived with out removal van we were met by a display of fireworks over the village. Had we had the energy to go up into the centre we would have found a small fire in one of the Piazza's, food and wine being served out of one of the cellars, and the locals milling around enjoying themselves. It was the festa of Saint Anthony, the saint of animals, celebrated every year in the village by scaring the living daylights out of them with loud explosions. Not to worry, the next day you can take them to the priest to be blessed – and yes, Murphy has been blessed by Petritoli's priest.
The main festival in Petritoli is the Festa Della Cove, held the weekend of the second sunday of July. It is a truly magnificent record of the history and traditions of the village and a testimony to the hard work put in by the local residents. Food, wine, music, dancing, absolutely beautiful floats and lots and lots of smiling. Worth a visit!
A few days ago my doorbell rang at 7.30 and I found a neighbour outside handing me a cabbage and a lettuce. Obviously in the UK I would have immediately called social services. Here I take it for what it is – a simple gesture of kindness and generosity.
Le Marche is beautiful and has all the ingredients for a wonderful life (and a long one – the longest in Europe apparently!): wonderful architecture, art, festivals, food, wine, landscape and blue skies much of the time. It is not however “Paradise”, it is Italy.
The main topics of complaint seem to relate to the bureaucracy, house restoration disasters and Italian men.
The bureaucracy does not bother me and I think it is exaggerated. Perhaps people who have not had awful experiences with builders or Italian men just need something to complain about. Ok, they may have had bad experiences that I have been fortunate enough to avoid, but I have been here 3 years, and whilst I agree a little patience is required, the italians are usually so helpful that it is just another interesting experience for me. I also have no problem paying the bank charges for having a current account. All the bank staff know me and greet me by my name whether in the bank, the street or the bar. How refreshing!
House restoration. I am about to buy an apartment to restore. I feel relaxed about it despite the horror stories that I have heard. I know several excellent italian project managers and my problem is going to be choosing between them.
Others have been less fortunate. As in the UK, project managers and builders here in Le Marche come in all shapes and sizes. Some appear to behave in the most devious and despicable manner. I have met people who have been left penniless with a half finished house, oscillating between tears and anger. It is a sad situation as it has a negative effect on the relations between locals and angry foregners. It is important to remember that British builders come in all shapes and sizes too.
Italian men – this is my favourite topic of complaint – well it seems that we all need at least one! I could write a book. Animals! They should all be locked up! Only joking: leave me the Forestry Police and maybe a few Carabinieri to keep them in order! Unfortunately I will be unable to share some of my personal experiences with you. Petritoli is my home. I can say however that I have been attacked twice and propositioned far too many times by local married men. It didn't happen in the UK – then again I was neither beautiful nor elegant there!! My most recent admirer is 85. Despite his generous offer of his apartment and his pension when he dies I did decline his proposal of marriage! At least I can say that I am single through choice!!!
Not wanting to finish this blog on a negative note I would just like to say that today, 5th March 2007, there is not a cloud in the sky and temperatures are expected to reach 20 degrees. I have just been offered 2 cappuccinos and sat in the bar discussing crime, drugs and young people today, with an elederly italian woman. I am now going to take Murphy for a walk in the countryside and listen to the silence, interrupted by birdsong.......
Ci sentiamo
Total Comments 3
Comments
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Hi Joy! I loved your blog. Keep on fighting, struggle is part of living. Disregard the obnoxious married men and smile. Smile to your elderly admirer, you will light up his life. And pray to Saint Anthony so that he may send you a real "Principe" and not a toad. Meanwhile, just in case, don't kiss anyone.
Best wishes,
Gala PlacidiaPosted 24-03-08 at 09:54 AM by Gala Placidia
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Wonderful blog, Joy! I have a similar story, and I have been in Italy since 1998. Keep expanding -- it's what life is about (even if sometimes it seems the reward must wait until heaven:)
Best,
CatPosted 28-03-08 at 12:25 AM by Cat Bauer
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P.S. I have spent many a fond time in Swansea on Mulberry Avenue, and walking across the bay.Posted 28-03-08 at 12:26 AM by Cat Bauer
