The Internet!!!

I’m getting all choked up as I write this, such is the magnitude of the declaration – I have the internet … at home. Those who have read previous posts on the subject (here’s one), and those who can empathize with a profession that lives and dies through its electronic relationships, will appreciate the emotional depth of the subject. It’s been a long time coming – 18 months (give or take) to put a number on it.

I can’t believe what a change it’s wrought in my life – no longer do I have to wait until 9:30 for the internet store to open, no longer do I have to schedule my day around trips to the internet store, no longer do I have to drive 10km each way to the internet store, all I have to do is walk down to my office … at any time of the day. It’s a true revelation, I feel liberated.

Rather ironically, given my rantings and ravings about the inefficiencies of life in rural Italy, it turns out that I could have had the internet all along - well over a year ago - if only I'd tried the solution I doubted for so long. There's a lesson in there somewhere, but I'm ignoring it for now.

After having reached a dead end on what I thought was the most promising avenue for the internet (Telecomm Italia, a curious choice given its gross incompetence and indolence, but indicative of the dearth of alternatives), I turned once again to the internet store that became my office for over a year. The techie there said if I could run a network cable less than 80 or 90 meters from a receiver mounted on a pole up the driveway that is in sight of their tower in San Ginesio some 6km away, I might be able to get a signal.

So, in desperation and in cautious hope, I gave it a shot, and after a couple of false starts, lo and behold, it worked! I still get goosebumps when I think of that “Local Area Connection 100 Mbps” message that popped up on my screen, followed by the strangled whoop that I simply couldn’t contain. Not only am I getting a signal from my receiver that j-u-s-t manages to peep over the hill up to San Ginesio, it’s a pretty solid one as well, matching any one of my friends who have a clear view of the tower.

Of course, it hasn’t all gone without incident or issue. First of all, I’ve mounted the receiver on one of the electrical company’s poles. I’ve no doubt that they wouldn’t take too kindly to it if they knew. I could of course ask them for permission, but I’m pretty sure what the answer would be, and even if they were marginally open to the idea, I don’t think I have the stomach for the bureaucracy and paperwork that would ensue. So I do what most Italians would do – I simply go ahead, and if they discover it (improbable given our hidden-away location out in the rustic reaches), I’ll simply plead ignorance, take it down, and erect my own pole.

But it’s not the only hurdle. The second one is a little more concerning. Turns out that the electrical pole is on one of our neighbours’ land – I thought it was on ours, but given the minuscule sketch of a plan that we got with our deed, I’m not in a position of strength to counter his claim. In any event, the difference is marginal.

However, said neighbour, who has been friendliness personified up until now, has said that he doesn’t want the network cable running over his land. Understandable, naturally. One option would be to bury it, but it’s 80 long meters from the house, entailing a lot of digging if I did it myself, or a lot of euros if I get someone else to. So I thought of running it in the air from one electrical pole to another, and thence to the house. He’s not entirely happy with this arrangement either, but it’s better than the cable interfering with his lawnmower (and consequently my work), and so this is the makeshift arrangement as it stands now.

It’s temporary not only for the above reasons, but also because I haven’t managed to find the right bracket or attachment mechanism to mount it on the electrical pole. And so it’s literally held on with wire and string, a rural Italian solution if ever I saw one.

In the meantime, I’m gallivanting all over the web with a carefree abandon, a smile on my face, and a new daily schedule in my life. In quintessential masculine denial, I’ll ignore the looming issues until they knock on my front door. Until then, I’m hoping my neighbour just cuts his grass under my looping network cable, and doesn’t think of suggesting to the electrical company come and check up on their poles in rural Regnano …