The romance of reality – part II

Life is such a curious beast, constantly throwing up surprises and lessons and obstacles – and a few rewards now and then – just to make the game interesting. It’s made even more interesting by the inherent diversity in our natures, rendering those same surprises and lessons and obstacles and rewards as categorical opposites to people of different perspective. As William Zissner so aptly puts it: “One man’s romantic sunrise is another man’s hangover.”

To many of those of similar ilk as us, the concept of moving to Italy conjures images of long, lazy summer lunches on the patio at Bramasole (or our equivalent – Casale Madonna, or Casa Rosa, depending on who you talk to), gazing with Chianti in hand (or Verdicchio in our case) over the languid hills of Tuscany (Marche). This is naturally my romantic sunrise vision, and the one that urged me to part with as many euros as we did to acquire our place.

The reality of such romance – the hangover, or Splat! view – is, however, a little different.

The Campbell advance guard (Claudia & Julius) arrived at Casa Rosa in early August, anticipating a cozy caravan and a house ready for renovation. They did indeed find both, with the latter in an advanced state of “readiness”, having deteriorated in condition in the year since we were there last.

They did, however, fail to find a couple of other things – water and electricity, for example. As it turns out, these are fairly integral components of our daily lives – perhaps the two things that we take most for granted, and without which life becomes something of a struggle. Imagine the effort involved every time you wanted a cup of tea, or to wash your hands, if you had to go and fill a bucket instead of just turning on a tap. Or to have to negotiate a night that’s as black as … well, the night … both inside and out, without the illuminating gift of an electric switch.

It goes without saying, then, that those first days were a struggle. Naturally, water and electricity weren’t the only trials, and a few other things have added to the “reality” – a cell phone that seems reluctant to take (important) incoming calls … an entire town that suffers from an inability to hold an internet connection … and a couple of US car titles with an owner – whose physical presence is required in North Carolina to sign them over – sitting in Italy. Add to that a young boy’s apprehension at having to interact in a strange language, a cat who wouldn’t go outside for fear of the creatures (wild boars?) that were in the vicinity, and after a week, the situation was about as real as it can get.

Of course, if you’re used to a filthy shanty in Manila, or a dirt-floor lean-to in Lagos, these are luxurious problems to have. But this, of course, would be taking the hangover view – not the kind of romantic sunrise thoughts that one entertains if you’re pondering where to get the next bucket of water from in the dark.

There has been some progress: the water is now turned on – in the house, not the caravan – but it’s cold. And they do have a portable gas stove to make pasta, a not insignificant fact, given the prominent position of this food source in the list of reasons for our migration. Julius enjoyed a meal of wild boar within days of arrival, and – most important of all – the neighbours have been fantastic.

An English couple whose house has just been renovated has provided hot showers and warm company, and the family from Bari has cooked classic meals and welcomed C & J as if they were their own. They also gave/lent Julius a bicycle that he now roars around the garden on, with Mr. Young a content spectator, having finally found the fortitude to venture out into this strange new environment.

Ultimately, it’s all manageable, not least because of the very human support, and, after all, if everything was drifting along on cruise control, I’d be waiting for the other shoe to fall. At least this way (i.e. the Splat! route) we’re in no doubt as to what we’ve taken on, having our romantic sunrises liberally doused with the odd hangover…