Italia is taking a rest and I get tire(d)

July and August are obviously months in which there is an economic slowdown and the ‘only’ business is tourism and in Italia this is no different. Although there is a tiny thing that has angered me slightly… The 2nd and 3rd week of August are considered to be a must take holiday period with some weird consequences. In need of petrol? Well virtually all of them are closed. Needed to go for a check up of your car? All closed. Dryclean ? Closed. The list is long and can be quite annoying if you are in need of the above mentioned services and lucky me… I was! My front tire was flat and turned out to be more used than Paris Hilton…

When I finally found a shop that could repair them he old guy showed me the tire and gave me a lesson is safety and recommended to replace both of them at only 350 euro a bargain…

But Italia is Italia, prices are to be negotiated and two for the price of one seemed to be a fair deal. But looking back it was very impressed that I still managed to do 185km with them on a sandy road just behind the house. But was is more surprising it that I was be able to locate a shop open and willing to take the business.

The old guy smiled friendly and fixed my door as well. I like to be ripped off with a smile even during the Italian holiday season.

Get a grip

It has been awhile since the kitchen was finished by two professional Bob the Builders. However they didn’t put the handles on all the doors and drawers so opening them up was a bit of a challenge. Weekends seem therefore to be the most appropriate time to test my DIY skills and today’s challenge was of Olympic proposition; 20 handles. Key to succeed is as always the tools. After having tried a number of times with different machines and kits it was clear that my arsenal was not sufficient to conquer this war. A quick visit to the DIY store, where I stocked up on Wood, Metal and Cement drill bits. Now capable of making a hole in virtually any surface in my house I headed home to test it all.

With some precise measuring, I started to put the first handle in one of the drawers. At first all was normal until there was a release of smoke and it looked like I started to torch my kitchen. The lacque layer is obviously not appreciating the sudden drill action and is defending its territory. But after a little while I managed to get two holes ready to fix the first of many handles to come. The exercise, although long, isnt very difficult until I met with some proper resistance from the dishwasher. The dishwasher has been integrated and needed special care, the over confident me un screwed two panels and the whole electronic wiring dropped on my kitchen floor. Oops, this was not to open and I started to refit it all which I succeeded in doing after a struggle of 30 minutes with a flexible panel that refused to be put back.

Next challenge the fridge that has a special sliding door system that needed to come off too.
First part of the door was easy but the second part was more difficult since I wanted to continue the symmetry of the other handles. Obviously the system was exactly there were the handle needed to be fixed. With some MacGyver like skills I managed to create something that does both now. The rest was pretty straight forward and I managed to finish the whole kitchen in …bronze medal time. Next phase will be the bathroom but so far I have used my complete collection of drill bits and nothing has managed to get a hole in the tiles.

I guess a visit to the DIY will be needed to continue to transform my house in Dutch gatenkaas.

One week and still alive or...

It has been one week since the move and there are issues… well one big issue; mosquitoes and loads of them. The best thing about living in the South is basically being outside and still doing the things you need to do. Having breakfast, a coffee or lunch but also working and reading are all done outside in a quiet and warm environment. However towards the evening, there is an army of flying things that slowly takes over the place and starts eagerly kissing every human that is in its way. The results are interesting, legs and arms looking like a raisin bread gone wrong and the itching arrrrhhhhhhh. So the time has come that the new landlord starts to take control and shows them who is Boss!

A quick visit to the DIY store to stock the ammunition to start the battle. Two socket plugs with 24x7 lethal smell (whatever that means), two bottles of liquid citronella to fill up to burners, a can of spray and those funny circles that you burn slow also in citronella.

First evening all is put into action with mixed results. My philosophy is simple; you create something that smell bad to mosquitoes, they than will close their nose with one hand and obviously flying with one arm is impossible and they crash and burn, simple as that.
Turns out that some wear protective head gear or something cos the quantity has been reduced but the few still flying around seem to be ex Tour de France flyers (eg EPO filled) and strong as any Citronella tool.

I need to find an alternative tool that will win me the battle before I turn into a spotty looking guy with an bizarre itch…

Miracle of the slow kind

Tuesday evening at 22.00 I put my new key in the new house to start after only 100 days of extended delays, a multitude of problems, the ‘dream’ has finally become reality.

Looking at the dust inside, it clearly shows that 100 days have gone past without Mr Bosco being present but who cares?? The most important thing was and is the actual possession of the place and that means camping inside and taking for granted a number of minor obstacles that, to be honest, are all acceptable now !

The first evening, I installed a big lounge chair (or bed) in the middle of the garden to observe the stars and enjoy the silence. This is really a haven of peace and it is fantastic to just lay down and finally and realise that …Yes it was and is all worth it !

Update 2

Although positively certain that this weekend would be the weekend of moving in I arrived on Saturday morning with lots of stuff in the car at the entrance lane to the house.
I have learned from the past so I decided first to check out the status before the actual moving of stuff to the house. When I approached the house I heard a strange buzzing sound coming out of the house. Intrigued I opened the door and I spotted a very sweaty imitation of Father Xmas with a huge machine that was sanding the parquet floor AGAIN. Hang on, this was already done and the next phase, putting a protective layer on the floor too. A simple Italian French conversation didn’t really made thing clearer so a call to the agent was next. He was not aware of it and he was straight on the phone with the builders. Their feedback was disappointing again, they were not happy with the previous result and decided to redo the work.

Quality control is great but why leaving this for 5 days and starting it when I am suppose to move in??? The miracle world of builders remains a mystery for me and it was back to the ‘old’ apartment for yet a extended stay. The next day will be this coming Monday evening or Tuesday evening…well, I want to believe it but would this be smart?

The finish line is close but some builder is having fun repainting the line each time I am about to cross it, next time I will jump!

Update 1

Well it turns out that it is possible to become the president of Italia…Just got the confirmation for the Super Cup lottery tickets and I have obtained 2 ! The chance was very small or even microscopic but it meant that there was still a chance and two tickets are now in the pocket.
Flappy here we come !

Grandma to the rescue

In France there is a program that is called Super nanny with a simple concept; your household (with kids) is being observed and analysed before the tough looking lady announces a revolution and makes your household a model one.
In Italy there is an equivalent that is called SOS TATA, which is more traditional, with the lady wearing a silly blue dress with polka dots and having a face like a sour plum.

It made me curious, are Italian households as bad as the French ones?
Well Super Tata moves in with a successful business couple that has three kids. The house is big and the decoration is sort of ok and they seem quiet well balanced at first sight.
Meet the kids…three little men that are ready to show Super Tata that hell is created on earth.

The first two days, Super Tata observes and after 15 minutes her eyes are dropping on the floor. The two oldest lads have gone to the garden, where they both take a pee against dads Mercedes, before they move on to hose the little garden fence. This fence is particularly annoying after the pee session and they decide to kick it like there is no tomorrow. Having successfully terminated this job they move on to mums area. A place of peace and flowers, mum loves it and the boys too. After 15 minutes, they have managed to move all that is planted from right to the left side. At this stage mum walks in and is shocked! She talks to the boys…ragazzi this is not nice! Not nice? You are kidding me ! This is fun ! Inside the house diner is ready and they all sit at the table, little man 1 drops his pasta in the lap of his younger sister and little man 2 shoves his brothers head in the sauce. Mum and dad are not happy but what to do? Super Tata is lost, having an heart attack and frankly without a solution.

When the roles are being reversed and she takes over, she has the help of a Sos Tata number too and without real conviction starts to put down the rules.
The list is long, really long and stickers are handed to all kids for a job well done.

First this seems interesting to them but trying to smash the washing machine door, using the electric screw driver to drill holes in the walls and taking down the books from the shelves is much more fun although there are no stickers to be gained.
These boys are fantastic, every time I think they will become angels and they surprise everybody again and provide the parents with yet another challenge.
Super Tata is hopeless and although be able to score some points, she realised that these boys are destined for organised crime and she is being taking away by the ambulance.