“He’s going to live there on his own?”
The old man was incredulous. You could see him thinking how strange these foreigners are.
“Yes”, FfI replied. “He needs a studio”.
Obviously, this exchange was in Italian. I could do this but it would take me much longer and things do get lost in translation (especially when I try Italian).
He seemed unsure. We walked in to the flat. Built around 1920 or 1930, it had not really been updated much since then. The ‘cucina abitale’ (living kitchen) did have a table in it. At a squeeze you could fit four people round it, as long as the oven wasn’t still on, otherwise the person sitting with their back to it would be in hospital with 2nd degree burns.
The hallway was pokey. The bathroom had a half-bath with an (old) shower fitment over it. There was no room for a full size bath in any event.
“Why don’t Italians like baths?” FfI asked to me.
Room 1 was a bedroom. 2 single beds and a mismatch of furniture (wardrobes, chest of drawers). Some of the furniture was newish. But none of it was bought at the same time or bought from the same store. Room 2 was another bedroom with one single bed and a wall unit that would not look out of place on a bonfire. In fact, that is where it should be.
All the furniture would be staying. He was adamant. The girl living there obviously was not trying to sell the place. The washed clothes were drying on a rack in the hallway.
The girl explained that she didn’t live there on her own. In fact, as FfI put it (she is American but has, obviously, lived here too long) – they are in three – a literal translation of the Italian “sono in tre” – properly translated as “there are three of us”.
That’s how they could afford the rent. Which went up €100 Euro when my friend asked how much the rent was – at least compared to the internet price.
We didn’t ask about the dogs. And neither of us bothered to question the other about it. This was, excepting for the furniture, only marginally more salubrious than the “crack den” down on the Navigli.
As FfI put it later, you wouldn’t want to go home to that. I could only whole heartedly agree
We discussed the fact that, only as a student could one live in one bedroom. Later, over lunch and coffee, we discussed the fact that, given the cramped conditions in which Italians live, it is no surprise that they spend most of their spare time out, walking, eating, meeting friends, etc. And, why they never really seem to do dinner parties – at least, not like we do.
