Author Archives: Andy

Officialdom in Italy – erm, this is NOT how it works!

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You may remember I was dreading going to get some official documentation thing done.

Well, today was the day.

The office opened at 8.30. Being Italy, I knew my best chance to spend as little time as possible, the first visit, was to get there about 8 a.m.

I failed. It wasn’t entirely my fault. Last night we were at some friends for dinner and F did his back in during the day so, when we got home about 12.30, I had to take the dogs out.

I set the alarm for 7 a.m., knowing I would have to take the dogs out. An hour would be enough, wouldn’t it? Even as I was setting the alarm at about 1 a.m. I knew that it wouldn’t be. F said that he would get up with me as he wanted to go and have his injection at 8 as he was going to Greece for the week.

The alarm went off. It was so nice being in bed that I set it to snooze for 5 minutes. Of course, as it was only an hour to get my act together, even 5 minutes was a no-no – and I knew that, it was just that I really, really didn’t want to get up.

I got up when it went off again. I didn’t wash or anything but took the dogs out straight away. We got back about 20 to 8 (it had to be a shorter walk this morning). Of course, F only actually got up the moment I got back. And he made for the bathroom. So, that was that. I made coffee. Just before 8 he came out of the bathroom but I was having coffee and, much like every morning, my head takes a while to catch up with being awake. In fact, I always say that I’m at my best from about 11 a.m.

Of course, it doesn’t mean that I can stay up late. Normally, I would say, my best period finishes about 2 p.m. – after that it’s all downhill to bed!

Anyway, back to the story. I did try to rush but it was like swimming through treacle. I made it out of the house before 8.30, which I thought was quite an achievement, to be honest.

I realised, just before I left the house, that I had not taken a copy of my passport or my codice fiscale sheet (I never got the card). I went to the tobacconists under my flat and got copies.

I knew I wouldn’t have everything that was needed but I’d done my best.

I catch the bus but get off too early. I walk to the place and arrive there about 9 something. I go to the office which is on the 4th floor. I really do hate doing this thing in Italy. I dread it. I thought, on the way there about turning back but steeled myself to continue. After all, this had to be done sooner or later.

I get the lift to the 4th floor and go into the waiting room. I see the machine to get a ticket. The ticket says B52. They are currently calling out B21! Shit, I think, I really should have been here earlier.

I sit down and wait. And wait. However, by about 10, we’re nearing my number. All these people only seem to spend a few minutes in the offices. I see many of them clutching folders with documentation. All my documentation is contained in my passport which is in my pocket. My heart sinks with every second of waiting. I toy with the idea of NOT doing this. After all, I maybe don’t have the need of it any more?

But, having already arranged to be late for work to get it, I have to continue.

My number comes up – it’s about 10.15.

I go into Office number 8. The guy is sat at a desk behind a computer. I explain what I want. He asks if this is my first time. I say yes. He asks if I’m resident. I explain that no, I’m not really. He asks where I am from. I tell him.

He needs my codice fiscale. I give him the original paper. He asks if I have a payslip. As luck would have it, in my bag is the last payslip from October. I tell him I have a letter from my employers but he says a payslip is better.

I hand it over. He doesn’t look at my passport.

He types some stuff in on the computer. Whilst he’s doing that, I tell him who I have selected because she is close to my flat. He nods and agrees. He continues typing.

He finishes typing and says, in English, “OK, that’s finished.”

He can see I look shocked. I say, “Finished in what way? What happens now? And my card?”

He prints out two pieces of paper. He says that one of the pieces of paper is the proof that I am “on the system” and until I receive the card I can use this. The other piece of paper gives the time she will be available.

He is smiling. He can still see I am in shock. I explain that this sort of thing has simply NEVER happened in Italy. I explain that, normally, I expect to go two or three times. He assures me that this is all done. He asks to take a copy of the codice fiscale document. I explain I have a copy. He would also need to take a copy of my passport. I say I have one of those too! This thing, of them making copies, has never happened before in Italy – for anything! Normally you must bring your own copies. He takes a copy of my payslip.

And that was that. 15 minutes! I am still in shock. I still can’t quite believe it. This, I would probably not even expect in the UK. This is stunning. This is wonderful. Oh, were it all like this in Italy.

So, anyway, now I am officially able to obtain the free health service. I have a doctor. I can go to hospital. I can be treated – and almost all for free. Like in the UK.

So, my first taste of the Health Service here is pleasant and comes across as efficient.

I like it :-)

In which I almost lose my power of speech …..

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It was the shock.

We’re out for a drink with An, a friend who lives up the road from me. We’re in Polpetta and I’ve arrived a little later than them.

And I forget how it all happened because, to be honest, everything else beforehand became a little blurred.

F is talking about his house near Carrara. He’s talking about doing it up (as I may have mentioned before). During this talking previously, it has been mentioned that it would be done so that, in due course, we could retire there. Of course, “retiring” is something that I’m not sure I’ll get to but, no matter, it’s not for a few years yet. And, of course, the idea of doing it up is not only for that but also to go down there more often. F hates Milan (whereas I love it) and dreams of being somewhere else.

If the house was done up, we could, for example (he says), go down for Christmas, Easter and other times. We would have computers and TV and DVD players and so on. We would have nice (new) furniture and it would really be a home away from home. The dogs would have the garden and it would be totally “ours” (well, his really, but you know what I mean).

I’m happy with this. It would be nice. We’d have his family and friends nearby; we’d have the beach for the summer; the dogs love it – so everything would be good.

Then, last night, he’s talking about it with An and comes out with …..

“Once I’ve got the money to do it and it’s done, we’ll move down there to live.”

My face must have registered the shock of this statement. He adds, to me, “I didn’t tell you before but it means we get out of Milan.”

We had always suggested that, once the house was done, should we lose our jobs or something else happen that we could, if we wanted, move there permanently. But this was a slightly different twist. This was more like once it’s done, we move immediately!

“It’s OK,” he adds, “you can do teaching and editing and I’ll get a job.”

Well, that’s OK except, the pay for teaching down there would be less than here – and here it’s not so fantastic. Plus, teaching means no pay for December/January and mid July to mid September. I don’t know if he understands that.

Not that we would need so much, of course. But, still …….

Then, as we’re talking, he qualifies his shocking statement to “maybe we move down in 1, 2 or 3 years.”

But it was the feeling I had when he first said it. It was a little frightening, to be honest. Now, that seems stupid, even to me. But there you go. I was frightened by the thought.

On the one hand, he obviously sees the future with me in it, which is good. On the other hand …. well, I don’t know, really. I’m not sure why I feel a bit frightened by the thought that we could be there by this time next year. I almost feel “not ready”. It’s not a feeling I have, generally. I’m much more of a “take things as they come” kinda guy. So, in theory, it shouldn’t pose a problem for me.

And, yet, the unease remains. When I first met him I would have moved in with him the next day. Now, I’m more “it’s OK as it is”.

“We’ll buy all new furniture,” he says. “But what about my furniture?” I ask. “We’ll sell it,” he replies.

I pull a face. I’m really not so happy about that. I mean to say, I’m not that bothered about “things” but ….. they are my things and, in some way define a little who I am. I don’t want to get rid of them. I would if, say, we were moving to the other side of the world but, still, getting rid of all my furniture would mean giving up nearly everything I own. Then I really would, almost, have nothing, plus some things are irreplaceable. The grandfather clock and the bookcase are what I bought with the money my dear Grandfather left me. To part with these two things would be difficult.

And, yet, they are only things, so in reality less important.

They aren’t the reason for me feeling so unsettled about the possible move. Part of it but not really that much.

No, I don’t know why I feel like this. It’s not normal for me. Well, it’s not the “new normal” that came with the move to Italy anyway.

But after he said it, I was unable to speak at all for a few minutes.

And there’s still an element of shock that remains.

So, I guess we’ll see what happens. After all, F does tend to say things that don’t necessarily happen. So, let’s not panic just yet, eh?

In the case of the disappearing train station.

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I like the Italian rail service.

I don’t use it much but I like to travel on Italian trains. I find them punctual and a good service. Of course, I don’t normally travel on the regional trains but, rather, the inter-city trains. And, always first class :-)

I usually buy tickets from their website, in advance. It always works fine for me.

So, my colleague asked me to look up trains for her daughter who will be travelling on Saturday from Diano Marina (on the Ligurian coast) to Milan.

Yesterday, I did it. However, today the timing had changed. So I went to the site and typed in the station name. Unlike yesterday, the drop-down menu of the stations did not appear, which was strange.

I told her that the station did not seem to exist. She explained that it was precisely this problem she had yesterday. Of course, yesterday, I thought she was just having a “blonde moment”. It seems not.

In my hunt for the elusive station, I changed the site to English. It sent me back to the front page. I typed in the station name again and, this time, the name appeared in the drop-down menu and suddenly the station existed! It would seem that yesterday I was using the English version of the site.

I tried it in Italian again – no such station. English again – the station exists!!

I feel sorry for the Italians using the Trenitalia website – it seems it’s much more difficult to buy train tickets in Italy if you don’t read English.

Who’d have thought it?

There are many advantages to being English in Milan and this is another :-)

Why I was in the UK – NOT ignoring friends, exactly.

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It isn’t that I meant to snub all my friends but this is inevitable when you go “back home”.

I mean, I was going back for Best Mate’s 40th birthday. She hasn’t been so well over the last few years and, although I intended to stay for the weekend, I didn’t know how she would be and whether I would a) be with her the whole time or b) if she was up for “nights out with friends”.

So, I couldn’t take the risk and chose not to tell anyone I was going back. If I had, I would have had people trying to make arrangements to see me – which, in other circumstances I would have loved, but, in this case, would have just been hassle, particularly, possibly, for her.

In the end, I spent the whole weekend with her (also her kids and her Mum and Dad). We met one mutual friend in passing in Hay-on-Wye and sat and had a drink with her and chatted for a bit, which was lovely but, it was Best Mate’s birthday weekend so, for me, anything she wanted was what we did.

And it was really lovely. She seems much better now and it was so good to spend some quality time with her.

As we discussed (and have discussed many, many times before), there would appear, on the surface, to be no good reason why we are best friends. Nobody ever really understood why we were and since we don’t really understand either, it’s difficult to explain. And yet, within about half a day of our first meeting all those years ago, we had a “connection” and, even if we don’t speak or see each other so often, the moment we are together again it’s like we’ve never been apart from each other.

It’s all so easy and we can just relax in each others company.

And I like that. A lot.

I’m hoping she is on the first steps to a full recovery and that, maybe, I can see a bit more of her in the future.

In any event, to me she has always been and will remain a star.

Some English words. Well, not really but, as they say, you learn something every day.

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You see, being in a foreign country, I’m actually learning more English than I would if I were still in the UK.

Take one of those words.

Lacksidaisical. Great word, isn’t it. Meaning lazy/not paying attention.

Except it’s not. I’ve used this word so many times over the years. Pronouncing it lack – see – daisy – ical. No one has ever said, “no, you’ve got it wrong.” Of course, I’ve never actually written it down as I’ve never had to use it when writing but, if I had, I would have spelt it as I did above.

Today (courtesy of Lola) I find that after 40-odd years of using it, I would have spelt it wrong if I had written it and, worse, I’ve been pronouncing it wrong all this time! It is, of course, lackadaisical. There is no “see” in it at all! In fact, neither in the spelling nor the pronunciation is there an “s” after the “lack”!

And then there is the word “cutch”. We used it in my family a lot. “Give me a cutch,” we’d say, meaning give me a cuddle or a hug. Or, “cutch up to me” – cuddle up to me.

Of course, we lived on the Welsh border and so, I suppose, it was inevitable that we would “borrow” some Welsh words. And, previously unbeknown to me, this is a Welsh word and, in fact, the word is cwtch (the “w” sounding like an English “u”).

So, all this time, I knew some Welsh words (I think there were others that we used but don’t remember them now).

Do you have any words like this?

I am excited.

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I’m quite excited.

This weekend I am going to buy an external hard disk for my computer which is now completely full with music, pictures and films.

I have picked the one I want and can get it from FNAC near the centre of Milan.

We have a holiday on Friday (!st of November) so I’m going to go then (if it’s open) or Saturday.

It will also mean that I will be able to “tidy up” my computer and, so, make it run faster.

Actually, I’m very excited. Just thought you should know :-)

Neither here nor there?

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I wrote a post just over a month back about the feeling of not belonging in Italy..

Last Thursday, I went back to the UK.

Well, I say the UK. It actually felt like I had stepped into some sort of theme park – and not in a good way. I would call it the “Daily Mail Land”.

Of course, there’s nothing I could put my finger on, exactly. I mean, the countryside was as wonderful as ever. The beer was great. Some of the food was wonderful and I miss that. It was all much “tidier” than Italy, which was nice. But I think it was the people. As if all joy had been squeezed out and it left a miserableness that couldn’t be hidden by the falseness of the shop assistants over-friendliness, the bar staff trying to make you feel that you were the most important customer in the world, etc.

It was like everyone had just come off a Customer Care course but it just felt like “let’s pretend”. None of it felt “real”.

I don’t belong there either. So, if I don’t belong there and I don’t belong there, where do I belong?

And I missed Italy. Not just for F and the dogs. I missed the food, the life, the enjoying of life. And, more than ever, coming back felt like coming home.

I bought lost of things. Too much to fit in my suitcase and so Best Mate will be posting it to me.

And the time I spent with Best Mate – just hanging out – was fantastic.

But,in spite of that, it get’s harder to go back each time I do it. Next time, it’s for a wedding party and I go with F. So let’s see if that is any better.

Here we go, here we go, here we go!

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Well, I suppose it had to happen sooner or later and sooner rather than later was more likely.

I asked my colleague if she thought it was possible to do this by telephone or online. She did her best to not laugh. Obviously, siamo in Italia (we are in Italy) and there is no hope on this earth that something as simple as a phone call or online thing is possible. TBH, I knew that to be the case but one should always live in hope.

So, once again I am stepping into the dark, foreboding abyss that is Italian Bureaucracy. And, let me tell you, I’m not looking forward to it. No, not a bit.

It will take time (my golden rule being that, in order to do anything here, you need to visit an office a minimum of two times) and it will be hassle.

Also, in my case, it could mean obtaining some other documentation first, so doubling or quadrupling the amount of visits (and time).

Can I just say …….. shit, shit, shit and bloody shit!

ACT/OR – Will it become reality or not?

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Having “successfully” backed 2 films and one book on Kickstarter, I thought I would like to try again with another one.

But, which one? For me, it would have to be another film or a book but there are so many and to try and to read all the blurb and watch all the videos on each one, I’d need about 2 weeks, by which time, there would be a load more available.

But, then, in the Guardian I saw a link to some program that was created that works out the likely success/failure for each project.

The website is called Sidekick.

This, supposedly, lists all the currently live projects on Kickstarter and gives the probability of it being a success along with other information such as how much time is left, how much is required, how much is pledged, etc.

And, by clicking on the headings at the top of the list, you can order the list in almost any way you want. And you can select a particular category.

Amongst the things that I found amazing/strange/weird was the fact that there an awful lot of projects for the category “Board and card games”. I mean to say, in this digitally-frenzied age, who’d have thought that people would still be making up card games, let alone board games?

Anyway, I found something to pledge for and it’s a short film that goes by the name of ACT/OR.

According to Sidekick it has a 97% chance of reaching its target – but with only 11% of the required target in and only a couple of weeks or so to go, I find that a little difficult to believe. So, let’s see. Visit the site and see if you like the idea of it? Maybe you’ll even pledge something?

Spam Poetry?

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I don’t normally look at the spam comments these days. There are just too many of them so they just get deleted.

However, as I go to delete the spam comments that have built up this morning, the first one caught my eye.

It looks like a poem.

So I thought I would share it with you, even if it’s not that easy to read :-)

Apρrеcіаte Youг Cat By Fοllowing Τhese Stablе Recοmmеndations.

Cats are exсeptіonal dοmeѕtic pets.
If you may probаblу’t be at your hοme all
tіme of time of day timе, cats can ԁωell
on theіг νeгy perѕonаl.
The subѕequent guіdе will pегmit уοu to to analyze all about cats.

Inside еѵеnt thе hοlіdаy sеason rollѕ rounԁ, safeguаrd youг Xmas trеe from сurіοus κittіеs.
Ιt сould sеe thаt tгee anԁ
climb іt. That іs typically an huge ԁіlеmma.
Commonly tеnd not tο pеrmіt your ԁοg to
prowl rоughly уour treе.
You mау have tо alsο be confident that
уou maу fіnd out no loose garlands, оrnaments or tinsel thаt maу ωell extremеly
vеry ωell be eaten employing the сat.

Actually gеnerallу tenԁ not to haνe youг cat opt for
οn а med if they’гe not suffering by way of the proρerly-stayіng ԁіlemmа it acquirеd beеn mаnufactured tο hanԁlе.
A good deal of of indiviԁuals flea mеԁicineѕ yοu
gо well wіth іn youг οwn very own
cat alsο сoрe ωith for parasites, mites alsο to other diseaѕes ωhich the cat ωill nοt have
аnd are nοt аblе to contraсt.
Deѕpite the incrеdіbly ѕimple faсt thаt thesе
mediсіnes are poweгful on hіghway catѕ, they is likely to be not important foг іndoor cats.

Τhе region inѕide litter ѕelf-disciρlіne is important.
Youг at 1st

Great, isn’t it :-D