Life in Puglia seems like a whirlwind, which is ridiculous as we came here for the ‘La Vita Bella’ but in fact it seems to be ‘la Vita Caotica’, we seem to be victims of our own success, only in the sense of being constantly busy and on the go. Ironically Puglia is celebrated for its simple, relaxed way of life, warm personal relationships and time for others, lack of violent crime (excluding gang warfare and the fact that our friend Maurizio says every time we need advise’ Have you got A gun?’), good manners and spontaneity – Our friends are never slow to break into song or dance when the mood strikes them. For sheer vitality and passion for life, Italians have few equals and, whatever Italy can be accused of, it’s never plain or boring living here, just somewhat exhausting and some days the Villa is like Piccadilly Circus or Capo D’Anno Napolitano. Anyway this year Michael smashed the house to bits (again) to create our third apartment (Apartment Sogni Da Favola) and he also separated our house off, which took a few walls being hacked away and others being put up, hidden doors and new bathrooms and new kitchens not a small task and no mean feat but for super builder Michael just a weekends work, Not.
During April and May we all worked like Trojans Or Romans, I suppose would be more appropriate, (definitely not Puglian’s) and with the help off all our local friends, (who are among the most convivial, generous and hospitable in the world but constantly told us how to do everything every five minutes. Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrr) We are surrounded by undisciplined, tardy, temperamental, independent but colourful, passionate and spontaneous friends who are plumbers, builders, plasterers, stone masons, electricians, tilers, gardeners, cleaners and the most important for me, Isabella’s young Nanni, Silvia. But we never expected them as workmen to arrive on time (or at all) – when they did finally turn up, they mainly didn’t have the right tools or spares anyway – or jobs to be finished on schedule, ho-hum. Still at least there wages were always negotiable, particularly if you argue loud and long enough,
With the help off these irritating, charming, aggressive, self-important but generous local friends, we have created a lovely new larger apartment and downsized our house, which actually was simply to massive anyway, it was just to much work to clean all the time, (well not that I actually cleaned it, I’m kind of allergic to that type of wifely work, it brings me out in a nasty rash, however I had to lift my hand to my wallet enough times and that was reasonably exhausting I can tell you. Well we hadn’t really stopped until recently, now we only need to maintain things, thank goodness, particularly as Michael works non stop all week with two Italian colleagues who are constantly screaming and yelling at each other every five minutes, there’s more hand signals, than a scuba diver whose just seen a great white, least I’m proficient enough to be able to yell back, as you’ve really got to give as good as you get, otherwise not only do you not get heard over the general volume, but you seem to get more respect if you speak to them in the same way. No British stiff upper lip and politeness here.
However the fact that we allow Michael’s two partners to run a percentage of our business, is our own fault, as Italians are generally totally disorganized (summed up by the word ‘Casino’, which roughly translates as a shambles but also means a brothel!) and the only predictable thing about them is their unpredictability. They seldom plan anything (if they do, the plans will be changed or abandoned at the last moment), as one of the unwritten ‘rules’ of Italian life is spontaneity, So this can lead to even more yelling and hand signaling, Marvelous!, Never a dull day.
Luckily Michaels business is fairly steady and his two partners like him a lot, everything is geared toward ‘The Man’ though, they think they are god’s gift and being an English woman I find this Superiority incredibly patronizing and they think they have a reputation as great lovers, which is why they’re constantly swooning and drooling all over you, yuk and all our female friends are beautiful (at least until they marry), although what they see in greasy, crooning, smooth-talking, mummy’s boys, who only come up to their knees is anyone’s guess.
So Michael just works and works and Then on the weekend he works some more on his own private jobs (which normally involves no Italian clients and doesn’t’ involve shouting screaming and arm waving.
But that Means some weeks we don’t see him at all, only a few hours in the evening before Isabella goes to bed and even then he’s normally running around fixing something at the villa, as this seems to be a year where Everything breaks, I’m not exaggerating by saying that every gadget or machine, that we own, has gone wrong or broken in someway, troppo Costosa!
Its ever so difficult not to whine because 1, I’m a woman and 2 its my specialty and 3 I enjoy it and 4 and most Importantly, it just comes sooooooo naturally and because we are cut off from the world that amplifies the problems.
Some times we’d kill for a good English chat and that Marvelous sense of humour and possibly a bit of Common Decency and politeness wouldn’t go a miss.I don’t think I’ll ever be able to deal with every person I meet telling me how to run my life and how to do the washing, cooking, cleaning. Blah blah blah, I still have serious problems with little village mentality, not sure I will get around that, Also the hilarious way they are Jealous has been brought to our attention recently, I always joked with Michael that I wanted a cute pool boy. Well we’ve been searching for a new gardener recently and my friend Rosanna recommended a local chap, and when he arrived I exclaimed to Michael Che Bello! Boy did I get a telling off from all the women at just saying another man was good looking. Anyway we have been invited out, included and gone to many Festa’s this year, our friends, like all Italians, have a passion for food, which consists largely of pasta, pasta and pasta, with lashings of Pizza and then more Pasta. They’re committed carnivores and eat anything that walks, runs, crawls, swims or flies, (um need I remind you of Maurizio catch Phrase ‘Have you got a Gun”) we’ve tried a few things like Horse but we had to say ‘No’ to Dog, the other day, when we were offered it, Michael is quite happy to swill down Offal and other horrible things but I always insist that I am full, well who wouldn’t be after 8 courses, Our Friends Family celebrations routinely last from dawn to dusk, with a constant stream of food and wine – if eating was an Olympic event, the rest of the world needn’t even bother to turn up! Italians also know a thing or two about drinking, washing down their food with prodigious amounts of wine, and Nicole, Michaels good Mate, makes a nasty Liquor from our local Nut tree, that he always try to force down our necks.
Well despite everything, we are enjoying one of the best lifestyles and quality of life. The foundation of our local society is the family (particularly the mother (oh that’s me) and community; its very obvious to us their close family ties and we’re very privileged to be included in so many families here, their love of children is so obvious with Isabella, who is just treated like a princess everywhere we go and in fact is now starting to act like one too. Ohuh, she is a bonny baby and learning both Languages naturally, we talk in English when were alone and when we’re with company, which is most of the time, we talk in Italian.
Obviously her language is jumping in leaps and bounds with the Nanny who is with us every day; I couldn’t run all these businesses without her and my gang of Donna’s, however bossy they might be.
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