Category Archives: Work

A Subheading only, really

We have successes and setbacks

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So, after yesterday, when he was a model of a puppy for the whole day at the office, we had one slight setback and then this morning a great success – maybe two, depending on how you look at it.

Of course, after yesterday morning, most of the afternoon was spent sleeping.

To be honest, I was wishing I could join him. This getting up at 5.30 a.m. is a killer and, almost, not really necessary at the moment. The getting up so early allows me time to clean up any mess that might be made off the newspaper. In fact, apart from one small pooh on the balcony, everything has been on the newspaper (or pretty damned close). He is an exceptional puppy. Better, even, than Dino was at his age!

But, yesterday, in the office, he did nothing on the newspaper waiting until we went for a short walk to pee and poop. An absolute result! He ate several times during the day and, in the afternoon had to be encouraged to come out with me when I went for a cigarette, so tired as he was.

However, not being completely stupid, he remembered the car.

I think, in his head, it works something like this:

Car = make me feel bad = I throw up = make me feel worse = DO NOT GET IN CAR!

As we are approaching the car he hangs back. When I reach the car, he is some feet away (on the lead, of course) and sits down. When I try to coax him to the car, he is stubborn. When I pull him he fights back. But, I mean fights back with vigour!!!!

Obviously I am a tad stronger than he is. He gets put in the car. I try to drive a little slower, especially round corners. In any event, by the time we reach home I see he has thrown up. Ah well, poverino. He will get used to it, I know – but it’ll mean no food this evening until we’ve arrived in Carrara and we’ll stop at least once to ‘clean up’ I expect.

Dino used to be like this, so I know it will get better.

But my, how happy was he to see Dino last night? The new, improved, sleek, short-haired Dino. Dino almost seemed a little pleased to see him – but, really, how can you tell?

Last night he was playing and generally having fun. Maybe he will forget about the car by this evening? We shall see.

Then this morning, F got up with me (that was the second success) which was a big surprise. In fact, he wanted to make sure he could handle them both together. Bless him, he gets worried that he won’t be able to control them. It was a success in that he handled everything – but at the same time, I could have stayed in bed for an extra hour! Ah well.

But the main success was that, within a few moments of being out, Piero did his first (not counting the ones yesterday) pooh outside. Oh how good is he? Dino didn’t do his first for months.

So, there were mainly successes and the setback with the car journey. It could be very much worse. He is, in a different way from Dino, of course, going to turn out to be a great dog.

Being a mother?

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To be honest, 5.30 a.m. is a time of morning that nobody should see unless they really want to. All sensible people would still be asleep. For that matter, F too.

Except for the last 2 days.

Yesterday, he said he wanted to get up with me. I thought it was strange and stranger still that he came out with us for a walk before going back to his flat.

Last night he told me that he wasn’t sure if he was going to get up with me but I should wake him and he would let me know.

He came out with us again. I said that he didn’t have to get up. He replied that he didn’t want to miss the walk with the new bimbo. So NOW I get it.

However, I think this may be the last time. We shall see.

He is also acting a little bit like a typical Italian mother (when I say say typical I mean stereotypical, of course. I’m sure not all Italian mums are like this) in that he is a little over protective of Piero.

“Do you think he’s OK out on the balcony?” Yes, I assure him. Even if, I too worry a bit that he’ll fall through the railings (dogs, generally, not being so clever, especially at this age).
“I am a bit worried about taking him out on my own” was a comment made more than once.
“I think it’s a bit dangerous for him” – made on more than one occasion for different reasons.

And, when he’s not at home, he wants to know what he’s doing. Is he sleeping? Is he playing? Is he lying with Dino? How many poohs has he done? Has he eaten? Etc., etc.

Yes, just like a mother, really :-)

Tomorrow, at the suggestion of a colleague and agreement with the boss, Piero will be coming with me to work.

It will be an experience (for everyone!)

Relaxing/preparing

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Sorry for not posting. This week has been so incredibly busy and I am very much looking forward to the weekend a relaxing a bit on the beach.

Of course, this is before the BIG DAY on Monday, for it is on Monday morning that we shall go and collect Piero and bring him to his new home.

And, in celebration (and also ‘cos he did a Guardian interview), you have to check out this blog from a dog!

A little uncertainty

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I’ve got more to say about Vienna – but no time right now.

In the meantime, since we’ve been back, there’s a touch of uncertainty in the air. It seems F is looking for a change.

However, I have learnt that, just like V, he tends to say things that aren’t always followed through. I learnt, too, whilst in Vienna, that the problem with Brazil was that it was just too far away. Apparently. Obviously, for me it wasn’t a problem.

Now we are considering Vienna. And doing a B&B. He’s looking for a sponsor. He’s fed up with work. I’ve now heard this for three nights in a row, so maybe it’s true. We shall see. For me, it’s not a problem. I liked Vienna very much. Especially as they are a) more dog friendly; b) permit smoking in bars and restaurants (although, to be honest, I’ve got used to going outside); c) it’s cleaner than Italy (I mean no rubbish on the streets, etc.) and d) I can always teach English and do copy-editing.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve kind of ‘done’ Italy now – in that I’ve been here 7 years, more or less, and survived. Of course, I would be very happy to stay here but I’m equally happy to move now, even to the other side of the world and even at my advanced age. After all, new challenges might be fun.

But, as I said earlier, F can be a little like V sometimes. What he says will happen won’t always happen, so I won’t be holding my breath.

But, you know, Vienna might just be a nice place to live?

Just like a film?

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Well, I can’t explain it at all. So this isn’t really going to be a post that makes sense.

Sometimes this happens and it happened this morning. Actually, more or less ALL morning so far.

I feel there’s something wrong. It’s almost as if I am watching a film of myself, as if I’m not really experiencing this. Make sense to you? No, probably not.

So there’s this feeling that something is wrong but there is no pointer as to what may be wrong. It’s more like when you walk into a room and something is out of place but you can’t see what is out of place but it makes the room look different and ‘not quite right’.

Or if you walk into a crowded room and everyone immediately stops talking and looks at you.

It’s just a feeling. There’s nothing of any substance that you can put your finger on. Everything appears to be normal but it’s not. I mean to say, it is normal but, behind it all, something is abnormal.

It doesn’t really cause any ‘pain’ but it’s a little uncomfortable. As If I should do something to stave off this impending wrongness by fixing something but since I don’t know what IS wrong, it’s difficult to fix.

This morning I felt like I was going to work after a few weeks off. How strange is that? Worse still, it felt like I hadn’t driven my car for weeks when, in fact, I had driven to the airport to collect F only yesterday!

It made me feel like I shouldn’t be going to work – or, at least, not this work in this place. That goes with a growing feeling that I should really get off my arse and do something about finding something a little more personally rewarding (as well as financially rewarding, I suppose) – but it doesn’t explain how wrong it all felt. How wrong it all feels.

So, there you go. There’s no point to this post other than to tell you how strange I feel.

Hotel Castelbarco; Bergamo – Città Alta; Crespi d’Adda – a night away

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Sorry. Been busy. Still am.

But taking a break for a moment.

Saturday night we spent in a hotel not far from Milan, the Hotel Castelbarco, near Vaprio d’Adda.

Vaprio is a small town just outside Milan, on the river Adda, hence its name.

It was a Groupon voucher thing that I got about 6 months ago and, so, as normal, we were running out of time!

It was for one night’s B&B.

The hotel was formerly the stables, etc. of a rather grand house, now used for functions (such as weddings). The grounds are spread along the river Adda. To the left of the great house are the stables and so on (now the hotel) and to the right are some other buildings (maybe new) that are now a restaurant, bar and night club complex (more on that later).

To be honest, I wouldn’t say the hotel was WOW! but it was quite nice and very, very clean. The breakfast was ample. As normal with Italian hotels that have been converted, the walls are paper thin and the woman with her stilettos that she continued to wear as (it seemed) she danced for an hour round the room next door, didn’t help. But, that aside, it was fine.

We arrived at something like 3 p.m. on the Saturday afternoon. It had been raining on and off. Fine rain or drizzle, not the normal Italian downpour, thank goodness.

We got in our room and dumped everything and left for Bergamo.

I’ve always wanted to visit Bergamo, more famed by the British for it’s airport that receives Ryanair jets from the UK. But there are two Bergamos – Bassa and Alta – and I had heard that Bergamo Alta was really quite a lovely city – being the original city built long before flying started and, as normal in Italy, on a hill.

And, pretty it was. A small medieval town with cobbled, narrow streets opening out, from time to time, on small squares or, in one case, the Piazza Vecchio (Old Square).

The cathedral (although it might just be a church) was wonderful, if not a little strange. There seemed to be a great mix of styles from Medieval to baroque – but it was lovely. We were both hungry so stopped for some lunch at Al Donizetti.

Although there was some very fine rain, it didn’t seem so cold and there was, waht seemed like, an old ‘market place’ under which they had tables. People were there eating without coats and so we chose to eat ‘outside’. that was possibly a mistake as it started to rain heavily and we ended up not taking our coats off at all!

It was also very touristy. But, then, the whole of Bergamo was very touristy – full of restaurants and bars, particularly those advertising their beers.

But the food was good and the service pleasant and, had it been a little warmer, it would have been lovely. We shared a plate of cold meats including lardo and some rather fine boiled and cured hams and then F had some polenta with mushrooms in a sauce and I had tomasino (a flat round cheese) with speck (they said it would be ‘crispy’ but it wasn’t so I wondered if that got lost in translation) on a bed of raddicchio done in a red wine sauce. It was rather lovely. The wine was good.

The only thing that let it down, in my opinion, was the sweets. I’m sure they were home-made but the pear and chocolate tart that I had was neither chocolatey nor pearey enough for me. The ricotta cake that F had was, to me, just stodgy without real taste . However, overall it was good.

We walked around the town for a bit, in, what was now, drizzle and light rain or, occasionally, no rain at all!

It was all very nice.

We had decided that, rather than eat in Bergamo and then have to drive to the hotel afterwards, we would go back to the hotel and eat there.

And so we did.

To get to the restaurant from the hotel, one can walk but, given that it could rain at any time, we drove.

The car park was overflowing. It made us a bit worried that the restaurant would be full. We eventually found the entrance (for it was not well signposted) and it was, in fact, the entrance to the bar and nightclub. When we explained that we wanted to go to the restaurant, he took us through to it.

If I say that it was being in a restaurant of a fairly cheap, 90s hotel, I think you’ll get the idea. If it wasn’t that I really didn’t want to have to drive around (having already have had a little less than half a bottle of wine at lunchtime), I would have suggested going somewhere – anywhere – else.

But it was all too late now. We were in Cubeba, famed, according to its card, for food, drink and dance!

And the food was more like something one would receive at Little Chef! Don’t get me wrong, Little Chefs are great places for food – for a very reasonable price. This was overpriced and the musak far too loud (to drive out the sound of the bar music, I suppose). I mean, it was OK but nothing WOW!

However, next door, it seemed the whole of Vaprio and it’s surrounding villages had come for they were having a ‘Fashion Night’. We went out for a cigarette at one point but, because we had to go through (a little bit) the bar, we had to have our hand stamped to prove we were entitled to go back in without having to pay! Not really what I expect from any decent restaurant.

The waitress, who seemed new, tried her best and, so, for us, we left a good tip. For the food I would have taken some money away! For the ambience, we should have had the whole thing free.

However, F did notice that, on Friday nights, they had their ‘Beautiful People’ night. It made us both laugh.

The next day, after breakfast, I had planned to take F to Crespi d’Adda, where he had never been.

It is a ‘workers village’ built by the Crespi family to house the workers for the factory they built next to the village. They say he was inspired by the model villages he saw in the UK during a trip there and I guess they were right in that it does have quite an ‘English’ feel to it.

I had been worried because of the rain forecast but, in the end, we were lucky with sunshine and warmth and a lovely trip round the village. This time I had looked it up on the net (see link above) and so had a better idea of where to go and what to see. It was a shame we couldn’t really get to see the owner’s ‘castle’ but the rest of it was just as I remembered it. F really enjoyed it.

Then we came home as F had to get ready to go to Germany which is where he is now.

Overall I would give 3 or 4 stars to the hotel, 4 stars to the restaurant in Bergamo and 1 star (for the waitress) for Cubeba. Next time I’ll try and remember to find out about the hotel restaurant first, before we try it!

It’s like a party out there …… and here.

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There are plenty of taxis – just none that are free for hire.

For that matter, there are plenty of cars too.

And there are plenty of people. In fact, in this street, normally fairly dead at this time of night. In spite of the fact that there are some nice hotels on the road, mostly it is shops, and the shops are closed.

And there aren’t any people, normally, since the road doesn’t really lead to anywhere to which people would want to go.

But not tonight. Or, rather, last night. Last night it was ‘buzzing’, in spite of the rain.

It is, of course, the week of the Furniture Fair – Salone Internazionali Del Mobili. Apart from the fashion weeks, one of the most important times for Milan (or maybe bigger than the fashion weeks), showcasing all that is good and great about Italian design.

Now, the main exhibition is at the Rho Fiera (the big, new exhibition centre) outside Milan.

And whilst, when it first moved, Milan became a bit dead, now there are many smaller exhibitions and parties and things around the centre of Milan. And so it was last night, the third (I think) night of the Furniture Fair.

F’s shop had a book launch and so there was a small party, of sorts. Of course, now, I must go. I like to watch him schmoozing the customers – and he is very, very good. Full of charm and jokes.

I know some people, of course, and get introduced to more by F, permitting F to go off and see other people. I chat a bit but I do find it more difficult. I’ve never really been that good at small talk. Still, I do my best and the party is nice.

I step outside sometimes for a cigarette – watching the taxis and cars and people in this unusually crowded street. Feeling kind of odd. I mean, I don’t feel like I really fit in but it seems nice and I want to fit in; to be part of this ‘world’ of art and design and ideas.

But it’s OK. I have a glass of prosecco in my hand and, after several, I’m more relaxed. I meet people that I recognise but can’t place. One is an author; another a buyer or something for Prada; some English woman who is a buyer for some shops out of Milan. But I am crap with names and crap remembering. Somehow I manage to get by, sometimes having to ask F quietly, who it was I have been talking to.

I mention the dog; the new puppy – but they all already know and most have seen the photographs. “Yes, I have seen you in the photographs with the dogs”. Of course they have. I say to one, “I don’t know whether he’s with me because of me or because of the dogs”, laughing as I do. In fact, both are true.

And I am tired. His colleague from Paris has gone (and she is really lovely) and two nights of going out, eating, getting back at half-past midnight have taken their toll. Tonight I would have preferred to go to bed immediately but it can’t be so. It’s part of the deal of a relationship. One does things for the other. And, anyway, F enjoys introducing me as his ‘fidanzato’, especially to people who have never met me. They always think I’m something in fashion or design and he delights in telling them that I’m not. It’s his thing.

We walk home, since there are no taxis. It’s not late but both of us are so tired it feels like it’s midnight anyway.

In the middle of the night, we both stir for some reason and, for no apparent reason at all, as he turns, he lifts himself up on his elbows and kisses my face. He doesn’t really show affection as such but sometimes I feel happy that I know he loves me.

Early morning and a failing diet

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They are closed. I half expected them to be open. Not that it matters to me – I only walk past them on the opposite side of the road anyway.

I do keep meaning to go in and see if they have English papers but I have never done yet. This is an actual newspaper shop! You don’t see many of them in Milan. Usually newsagents are some temporary-looking, wooden affair on street corners or pavements. This is a real walk-in shop.

They are closed and it is cold. It seems like winter again. I have a T-shirt under my shirt and jumper and my winter, all-weather coat done securely up to the neck.

As I walk, I wish I had taken the woollen cap and worn it. I want to take out my gloves …. but don’t. It is April, after all.

It isn’t raining any more, which, I suppose, is some sort of blessing. Later, as I’m driving to work, the sky is blue – but so blue and beautiful. In summer, this would herald an unbelievably hot day.

But it’s definitely NOT summer yet.

I shouldn’t be up this early. I think I woke up because I was cold. Also because I got to bed quite early, maybe. So I woke at 4 something, was up by 4.30 and, now, at 5.10 (a good half an hour before I normally get up), I am out with Dino for our morning walk. When he knew we were going for a walk, he got just as excited as if it were normal time. He doesn’t care about what time it is – a walk is a walk is a walk, after all.

We don’t go to the dog areas. After yesterday’s and last night’s rain, they will be muddy pools, smelling rank, no doubt.

We turn up the street near them. Part of the street is dark, the street lights not working. It’s been like this for days at least. I wonder why they aren’t fixed.

Milan is incredibly quiet at this time in the morning. But not dead. A few vans doing deliveries; the odd person walking to work. If it were summer, it would be lovely.

By the time we get home, whilst it’s not really what you would call ‘light’, it is definitely ‘lighter’, which is good.

I do coffee, take the washing out of the machine, feed Dino and sit and have my coffee. I think to myself ‘Bet you’ll be late to work’.

I was. How did that happen?

I showered and tidied up a bit and then came to work.

I’m driving through the new Porta Nuova where the new buildings are, in fact, looking more interesting now. It’s here that I notice the blue sky. There’s a lot of traffic about for some reason. The sky makes a pattern of blue through the buildings. For Milan, they are very tall.

Later, as I am driving on the last few roads towards work, I see, in the distance, the Alps with the snow. Against the blue sky they look fabulous and I wonder if they’ve had fresh snow (whilst we had the rain). I’m also amazed what a difference it can make, this 40-minute drive. From tall, silver buildings with scraps of sky to the snow-capped mountains beneath the same blue.

I love living here (although I would like it to be a bit warmer).

On a slightly different note, I have, within a couple of days, failed with my ‘no alcohol until I go out’, not being able to resist a glass of red wine last night. :-(

And then, at lunchtime, G, the cook, asked if I wanted three of her meatballs. Well, I couldn’t really say ‘no’, could I? I mean, it would have been rude, wouldn’t it?

No, it’s not really going to plan at all.

I just ain’t lovin it, innit? OK?

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Of course, I explain, English is an evolving language, as are most.

I try to explain that, even if ‘I’m loving your new coat’ can be heard (or something similar) everywhere in the UK, it doesn’t make it grammatically correct. A bit like innit, innit?

I then try to explain that inteligent people often take up these new ‘grammar’ forms in mockery.

But, then, at what point does the whole thing become a mockery as it becomes normal use?

I explain that I do it too (well, not so much with innit unless I’m trying to be clever). I use I’m loving something as if it were proper grammar. In fact, I wonder how many people in the UK would even know that I’m loving something is NOT grammatically correct. And, so, at what point does it pass into a well-known and well-used phrase?

I mean, this form of continuous verb has been used for ages already. When does it stop being bad grammar and just becomes grammar? And who decides anyway?

Like ‘And’ and ‘But’ to start sentences – terrible but justified by use?

Innit?

Of course, if you can’t see the REAL problem(s), what hope is there?

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Italy is going through a period of change, right now. One could say, a period of upheaval. Not unlike most countries,I suppose.

We have what is known as a ‘technical’ government. The Prime Minister and the cabinet members have not been elected. They are here, temporarily, to ‘save’ Italy from the same fate as Greece, Portugal and Ireland. Monti (the PM) has been tasked with introducing reforms. The idea is that he will reduce the amount of government debt and reform the labour market to make Italy more competitive.

At the beginning, like Obama in the USA, he was hailed as the saviour of Italy but it’s now all turning a bit sour – just like it is with Obama.

The latest problem for Monti is his determination to reform the all-important Article 18.

Article 18 is a law that provides for any employee who has been sacked to be reinstated to his old job if judges think he was unfairly sacked.

Apparently, most of the time, the judges tend to side with the ex-employee. This is judged as the reason that Italian companies do not sack workers and why people stay in their jobs for EVER, thus depriving young Italians of a chance to get real, full-time jobs – and youth unemployment is very high here.

In order to ease the situation, some years ago, there was a law introduced making it much easier to hire workers on a contractual basis. It was cheaper for the companies and, of course, was intended that they could ‘try out’ a worker before offering them a full-time job.

But it didn’t really work out. Most employers renewed the contract for a couple of years (the limit) and then let the person go and found someone else just as willing (desperate) to work on a 6-month contract basis for a nice, low salary.

Monti (and many other commentators) seem to believe that, by reforming Article 18 and making it much easier to sack workers (who are bad workers, of course), it will free up the job market, providing employment to the youngsters and getting the Italian economy back on track.

Workers are worried that nasty bosses will just sack workers if their face doesn’t fit. Bosses think that the reforms proposed (enacted?) don’t go far enough.

But, in my opinion, they are all totally wrong.

First, it’s not the problem. And reform is not the solution.

The problem is much more complicated than this. The problem is Italian culture and this won’t be changed by the change in Article 18.

in my experience, certain young people get full-time jobs without a problem. They do this because they are from a wealthy or powerful family and their parents ‘call a favour’. In one case, for one guy to whom I used to teach English, his father simply created an Estate Agency and put him in charge. Making money was not really its major concern. Giving his son something to do, was!

Take the company I work for. Many people who work here are related. Cousins, wives, husbands, etc. It’s the way it works. Jobs are ‘found’ for people’s relatives. People ask if ‘you know anywhere that is looking for a xxx’.

Sure, it can be similar in the UK but here it is more so.

But it’s not just that. My first landlady here decided she wanted to ‘change her life’ a bit. She wanted a different kind of job. She was in the chemical industry. She thought she wanted to move into the Energy industry with a focus on renewable energy. In the UK, to change one’s career drastically, like this, is not really a major problem. Here it is virtually impossible.

She spent a year or more getting the qualifications that she needed. Then she found some work. On a temporary contract. The problem here is that people will look at your previous employment and, if it is not exactly relevant, will, quite often, dismiss it. It is very hard to change career. In the end, because it was just too difficult, she went back to the chemical industry. She didn’t have any other choice. And the only reason she was able to do it in the first place was because she had rich parents to support her. She’s mid-30s, btw.

Changing your career is simply not done here. Any skills you have obtained become almost worthless if you try to move out of your field. Getting another job in the same field is difficult enough – getting one out of your field is nigh-on impossible – unless, of course, you have the right connections!

Then there is the financial incentive given to employers to take on people under short-term contracts. They get to pay less tax and NI (National Insurance). Why take on someone full-time when you save money by taking them on a contract basis?

And, in addition, I don’t entirely believe that employers don’t sack people because of Article 18 and the judges, apparently, favouring the employee. I think there is a deep-seated fear of confrontation. Employers don’t want to confront employees. Everyone here wants an easy life.

Even here, in my company, there are numerous instances where employees appear to ‘take the piss’. Sometimes, something is said. But then everything just goes back to the way it was before.

And, remember, I used to employ many people – so I’m not predisposed to come down on one side or the other.

The worst thing about this whole thing is the belief by Monti and many commentators that changing Article 18 will be the magic wand that a) brings young people into employment and b) gives a kick-start to the Italian economy.

It is my opinion that neither of these things will happen with the reform of Article 18. It is a red herring and will change nothing.

Monti and his gang are a group of economists/bankers, etc. Look where they’ve got us so far! It’s like putting the prisoners in charge of the jail.

One day, people will wake up but with the false promises about the labour reforms that Monti is putting in place, this is likely to turn out the same way as Obama in the States. People will be disillusioned but everything will continue just the same. Except that, maybe, Italy will lose something important along the way.

I don’t see a good outcome, unfortunately.