The Visit, part II

There is another.

It is tomorrow.

I am not looking forward to this. I had a dream about it last night. It’s been “off” (well, almost) my mind due to the visit to the far-off country and then holidays. But tomorrow is the day. The worrying makes it worse. My dream was much worse. It’s one of my “nightmare scenarios” from way back.

My hands are already quite sweaty and I’m finding it hard to concentrate on things.

I’m TRYING to concentrate on other things because I know that my fears are unfounded.

Or, at least, I really hope they are.

Oh, well, I will either survive or I won’t, so to speak.

These last few weeks are turning into a bit of a roller-coaster, aren’t they? Or, rather, they are, in my twisted, screwed-up mind.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’m just a little crazy, you know?

What is a camp hotel anyway? The best birthday present.

It wasn’t on purpose; I swear I had no idea but I managed to book us into the campest hotel I’ve ever been to in my life!

I should have had the idea when looking at the rooms over the Internet. They were, shall we say, Gothic, elaborate and immensely over-the-top. That was in the pictures. In real life, more so.

They did “dark”. The walls were black, the lighting subdued and yet, in the bedrooms, the lights by the side of the bed seemed to have come straight from Liberace’s house. Still, comfortable rooms, once you got used to the darkness of everything.

They offered us a drink, on the house, whilst we waited for the receptionist. We sat outside in the “garden” at the rear. The waiter was ever-so-slightly “gay”. The next table had a couple of ever-so-slightly gay people. And, of course, when I say “ever-so-slightly”, I mean really camp. It seemed like the whole place was heaving with gay people or that I had booked into an exclusively gay hotel!

And, as many of you who read my blog know, that’s not really my “cup of tea”.

However, the hotel was nice, the breakfasts (for me), reasonable, the bed comfortable and the position was good.

I say “good” except for one thing. It was under the flight path from the airport and they didn’t have double glazing and so at dark o’clock the next morning, I was woken up by aircraft accelerating out of the country. More or less, where I wanted to be.

But this particular morning was my birthday. And I wasn’t at home.

Of course, F texted me and then texted me later to tell me that we have got the flat! So that was nice. Well, nice and slightly terrifying too, as you know.

So, now, lots of things will have to be done and organised. I don’t mind that but, still, unlike other moves I’ve made, many more things must be sorted and many things thrown away or got rid of. I guess the next couple of months will be really, really busy!

And, then, of course, there will be the “living together”. But, I’m sure it will all be OK, more or less.

Won’t it?

Notes from a far-off country

Monday, 28th April.

It is very dark o’clock. The alarm goes off and I know that I must get up. I have only left myself 20 minutes before the taxi expects me to be downstairs. I’m hoping it will be enough.

The dogs stay with me, hopefully, for about 5 minutes until they lose hope and realise that I won’t be taking them out after all.

I leave the house at about a minute to 4. It is tipping it down. Miserable, bloody weather. Still, I will be out of it for a few days. Not that I want to be, you understand. I’m off the that far-off country. One that everyone agrees is “lovely” and I hate, almost without measure.

I get to the station for the train to the airport. It is still dark and still raining. I realise that this thing we have, with airlines leaving before about 10 or 11 in the morning – not before 9, anyway.

The sooner I am out of this effing rat-race, the better.

I have a cigarette – only my second so far – but I know this train – there is no warning it will leave so, even if there is 5 minutes to go, I get on.

Lots of people are on the train but it is silent. Some people seem to be sleeping and I wish I could. A woman gets on at the second or third stop. There’s lots of goodbyes to one or more people at the station and then she spends the rest of the journey on the telephone. I wonder who the hell she can be speaking to before 5 in the morning?

We arrive at the airport and, as expected for the far-off country, the check-in is “special” and requires the longest walks.

I go out for several cigarettes and then in through the security control with its massive queues and, again, I wonder at this need (real need) to fly everywhere so early.

I get through there and up to the gate area and head for the café for my shot of caffeine. And then a final cigarette.

On the plane, I stupidly offer the window seat to one of my colleagues, one of whom takes it up and then proceeds to sleep through most of the flight. Still, it’s not so important as I have a book. A new book; one of those supposedly for summer at the beach.

I read over half on the four-hour journey. This is not good. Obviously, I still have the problem of reading too fast. More books will need to be bought!

As we’re on the plane, I realise that I just don’t like people. In fact, I loathe them, especially in a crowded place. I’m talking people in general, making no discrimination between races, young or old, male or female. People are just bloody horrible.

We arrive. We go through passport control which is more special here. Don’t they realise that I really don’t want to be here?

“Why are you here?”

“Because I have to come and subject myself to this bloody horrible country with you bloody horrible people”

“Who are you coming to see?”

“Some of the most vile people I have ever had to deal with”

“Was it at their invitation?”

“Invitation?! If only it were so simple as something I could refuse? Believe me, I would have gratefully declined.”

Of course, the questions were real, my responses less so. A lot less so. In fact, nothing like what I have written.

I collect my case, I go straight out to have a cigarette. I go back in to get cash. I am told, by my colleague that the little fucker who is our agent here, has come to pick us up. Surprisingly, as he had indicated he wouldn’t.

Apparently, we weren’t grateful enough for this “sacrifice” but since he is a shit-stirrer, I couldn’t care less. I remember the last trip here. The trip just before Christmas when it was ‘too much trouble’ to take us anywhere!

Whilst driving to the customer, I made the mistake of asking how he was. We get the “holocaust story”. I really wish I hadn’t asked.

I spend the afternoon, sitting, bored to fuck while the engineers talk about dimensions and stuff.
I’ve already had enough!

Update and Easter

Well, obviously, it’s not all cut and dried …. yet!

It seems that the building expenses weren’t quite right and, in fact, are higher. What I still fail to understand is why they weren’t right from day 1 as the people involved MUST have known the correct figure!

So, last night we went through the options and I suggested offering something with the option to go a little bit higher, if necessary.

F decided to make the offer as suggested and not go higher. And, he’s kind of right. So, we’ll see what happens.

I’m still hopeful though.

Apparently, the agency phoned him yesterday (they’d given us the correct figures just before Easter and were closed on Saturday and, of course, Monday) – so they’re obviously keen to let it to us.

If it doesn’t work out then it isn’t meant to be, so I am calm and relaxed about it. And, anyway, I’ve got the work visit to another country (where I dislike both the country and the people), so the flat, at the moment, is not at the forefront of my mind.

In the meantime, the weather at Easter was fairly crap – apart from Easter Sunday which was nice and when we went out for a meal with friends to a little place called Il Fontanone. It’s basically a small fishing lake with a wooden hut. The wooden hut is like a slightly bigger version of a garden shed and probably seats about 30 people and they serve a set menu. The lunch is served at 12.30 sharp! The food isn’t “wow” but it’s good and wholesome (one might say “rustic”). We had an antipasto, some pasta (and three of us had second helpings), some grilled and roasted meat (including lamb chops – there is a tradition of eating lamb here for Easter) and roasted potatoes, a colombo (a type of cake they have at Easter) with cream and coffee. We also had about 4 bottles of wine and coffees. The total cost was €20 per head! Which, given the amount of food and wine we had was a real bargain.

The day itself was quite warm and sunny. We sat outside for a bit, walked around the lake and, generally had a lovely time.

On the other hand, it was raining nearly all day on Saturday and the same on the Monday, when we were on holiday. Also, Monday was bloody cold.

Now, of course, when we’re back at work, it’s beautiful and warm outside. Typical!

Still, this week is a short week (Friday being a public holiday) and the following week we have the Thursday and Friday off. And, in between this work visit, the only bonus of which is the thought of the Tapas restaurant we went to last time we were there!

Breaking News ……..

Sorry for this post being so close to the last one but I’ve just heard …….. it seems as if we shall be moving. The offer has been accepted and so, in about 2 months or so, we shall be living together, in a new (old) flat.

How exciting!

How frightening!

So now, things to do.

1. Get my clocks repaired.
2. Get the sofas and chair recovered.
3. Sort out movers.
4. Throw away lots and lots of rubbish.
5. Get rugs cleaned professionally.
6. Get new kitchen.
7. Allow F to take over my life and the way I live and not complain about it.

OK, so I might fight the last one but I am concerned that it’s what will happen. Oh well, I’m sure it will be fine. And the timing for this couldn’t be better. I have the money to do all this (or will have in the next few days), so it’s just a matter of buckling down to it all. Fun days ahead then. Wish me luck!

Awry!

You know how sometimes, everything seems to go a bit awry?

Well that’s how it is. I mean, it’s nothing major or really important, just little things that are annoying and involve trips to shops and buying some stuff.

So, it started last night. I got home from work and had to take the dogs out quickly and I noticed that my ultra-cheap shoes seemed a bit funny. Sure enough, the sole was coming apart. Of course, these are ultra-cheap and, so, don’t last. But, my thinking is that, if they last even 6 months, it’s still worth it. This is because I wear them to work and, somehow, all the shoes I wear to work quickly become tatty looking. Rather than spend a fortune on decent shoes, it seems better to spend next to nothing and throw them away once something goes wrong. In fact, even when a lace breaks, I’m almost inclined to bin them :-)

Anyway, this means going to buy new ultra-cheap shoes.

Then, I noticed my watch had stopped working. It needs a new battery is all – but that means I’ve got to find somewhere to get it done. Last time, the jewellers I went to wouldn’t do it and I ended up getting it done in Hereford Butter Market – so now I have to find a different jewellers here, in Milan.

Obviously, I checked my other watches and found about half of them needed new batteries.

See, I told you they were little things. It means Saturday will be busy. And, as my next post will show, there are a million and one other things to do too!

Quite nice is not VERY nice, is it?

“That’s quite nice.”

Here, the most important word is “quite” – as in almost something worth looking at. Not nice enough to buy or have in the house but, sort of nice. In the way that, compared to everything else that was on show, it was better but without any “WOW!” factor.

I probably said it a few times. And that, kind of, summed it up.

Amongst the dross there were a few things that were OK enough to look at.

Saturday, bless him, even if he was tired, he knew I wanted to go and see some things with him. So, off we went, with his friend, Fi, from Austria, walking not far from my flat. We were going to Wallpaper. There we did see some lovely things. Last year, we then continued to Brera. This year, Fi wanted to go to Lambrate. So we got a taxi and went.

I’ve never been to the “famous” Lambrate area during Design Week, so I was quite looking forward to it. It’s the other side of the railway that circles Milan – a place I would never normally have gone to. It’s quite a nice area in that it has a “village” feel. It was packed with people. Lots of ex-factories have become workshops and places to exhibit. This is the Fringe Show of the Furniture Fair. We traipsed through some but after two of them I mostly stayed outside. Not only was there really nothing worth seeing (in my opinion) but the crowds were just too much. Still, the sun was out and it was warm, so quite nice. The whole area felt quite bohemian (what, nowadays, is called Hipster, I believe) – full of young designers and artistic types doing the rounds.

There were a few things that I found “quite nice” – but most of it was crap or seemed to have been done before.

By about 2, we were leaving. Fi was going somewhere else, we were going home.

The next day, there were a couple of “exhibitions” by friends or friends of friends. So, yesterday, early evening, we went. the first was a photographer (who, apparently, used to do sculptures which were very good) but he should have stuck to the sculptures because the photographs were, quite frankly, nothing much. Housed in a tiny, tiny room, there was hardly room for the three of us (this time, with F’s colleague, Ma).

Then on to a “utensil” exhibition in a studio. Again, a couple of tiny rooms, only one of which had anything – on a large table in the centre of the room were things created from everyday utensils. What was created was neither decorative nor useful. It looked like the sort of thing you’d get kids to make in primary school!

Afterwards, when we having a beer, F (who was of the same opinion as me) said that, next year, he would set up an exhibition with his photos of Ma in various disguises (which are very good). Now THAT would be worth seeing. So, next year might be more interesting than this year :-)

An update

Well, as we suspected, the offer was rejected. But not exactly outright.

The comment that came back was – “we were expecting something closer to our asking price.”

Apparently, they were happy to have us – it was just lower than they wanted.

So, last night, we were back to the estate agents and we made our 2nd offer – actually half way between the two (our offer and their price). We explained that we didn’t want to keep coming back and forth. We asked if they would be likely to accept it. Eventually, with a few more Euro, the next offer was made.

Now we wait and see but we may even know today!

Plastic People

I am way, way over my head here.

And how different this was from the previous night!

I am introduced to various people, only one of whom I will remember – and that’s because we’re going to his wife’s shop (or, rather ex-shop) soon.

Eventually Si and I go to get a glass of prosecco and I manage to grab a small chocolate sweet from one of the waiters passing by who, until now have passed close to me but not close enough for me to grab anything and, anyway, seem to be moving through the room at something close to the speed of light. Most of the time, the ones that get close enough are carrying empty plates back.

The people around me speak mostly Italian and far too fast for me to understand. The men are dressed in suits with ties (no jeans) and the women have on their finest designer outfits and are all “beautiful” and “thin”.

This may be Design Week but one could be excused for confusing this with Fashion Week.

Si had only texted me when she had arrived at the shop (or, as we should now call them, Flagship Store.) Initially, I thought I’d say “no”. I was already tired from the night before but then I thought that I never really do these things and that I really should. What’s the point in living here if I don’t experience the “high life” once in a while. So I had rushed to change and to get there and I was now hot and bothered. She is dressed with a pink theme but doesn’t look out of place. I feel out of place since I have jeans, a casual white shirt (a little unusual – as is my wont) and a “suit-type” jacket.

After a little while we go to our next place. Si’s colleague, M’s wife used to own one of the most famous jewellers in Milan (apparently since I had never heard of them). We walk to the shop. On the way, in Via Montenapoleone (one of the main fashion streets in Milan), we pass their other shop. M goes over to say hello to someone there and then beckons us over. Apparently we should be going to this shop and not the other one. This shop, though, is not their historical main store but, rather, one that is exclusively for Rolex watches. In fact, I learn, this was the very first Rolex Flagship store in the world.

The party is in full swing. As for most places, there are people on the door checking if you are “on the list”. If you’re not “on the list” or know someone inside, you won’t get in. Of course, we are with the husband of the ex-owner (her cousin now owns it but she goes because it’s expected as she can meet and greet some of the long-term clients that will be there), so we get in.

Si seems very pleased with all this. She works in Marketing for a Luxury Brand (but not fashion) so there could be a tie-in.

Here the clientèle at the party are richer than the previous party. The men are not all in suites but, then, the crowd is older. I say older and that’s not entirely true. The men are older, some of the women are older but some are there because they’re not. However, there is so much plastic in the room – most women seem to have been under the knife, some with disastrous results (in my opinion.) There was fur; there were jewels; there was plastic – everywhere.

The shop is not that big but opulent would be a good word to use. The carpet thick, the wood special and lots of it and, of course, the watches. Now, personally, I really don’t like Rolex as a watch. Too much – I prefer simple watches – simple faces, preferably white or blue – even if mine are quite expensive (not as much as a Rolex though.)

The food was fantastic. They did little burgers that were so tasty (and, obviously NOT McDonald’s) and some proper Risotto Milanese. Si knew the chef (I’m not sure how she found that out) who is quite famous here, apparently and has a restaurant near Bergamo. Anyway, she mentioned something to one of the waiters and the next thing was that the chef came out to say hello to her – and me – and bearing another tray of the delightful mini burgers (just a mouthful each time – I had about 5!)

The shop had a “vertical” garden at the back, a roof terrace on the top floor and, on the same floor, a very large balcony that overlooked via Montenapoleone. Quite stunning.

It was all very nice but, to be honest, I preferred the previous night. There weren’t any real “designers” at these parties, just people who were to be “seen”.

I wasn’t way over my head because of the people so much as the fact that I don’t have the “culture” knowledge that they do. I mean, I know stuff but when people mention this designer or that artist, quite often I don’t have a clue who they are. Mostly I say I don’t know them. Sometimes, just because otherwise it gets boring, I say “Oh really?” – thank God they don’t ask too many questions.

Although, obviously, these people, especially at the Rolex shop, do move in a different world from me.

Still, it was all very nice and I’m glad I went but I did prefer the previous night where I got to meet “real” people rather than “plastic” people.