Tag Archives: People we like

And, the winner is…………..

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It’s not all done and dusted yet but it’s getting there.

Last night it was the revisit to the flat-with-the-terrace with FfI. She had already decided that this was the flat I should have

First, we met in our mutual friend’s shop. She’s from London and has a clothes shop – but not just any old clothes, specific designer clothes from the UK and Japan She is lovely and beautiful – tall, black and just stunning. Her shop is in Isola.

We walked to the flat-with-the-terrace. On the way, FfI saw a couple of guys (who looked a little like Beppe Grillo) and we spoke to them for a bit. They are jazz musicians who live in Isola and play, regularly, at the Blue Note Café which is also there. Nice guys. When FfI explained what we were doing one of them said we should go to his friends agency round the corner – but the problem is agencies. They always want between 10-20% commission (based on the annual rent). This equates to thousands of Euro which, given that I have to put down a deposit, pay three months rent in advance AND move furniture, etc. is just money down the drain, as far as I am concerned.

Obviously, when we first came here, we had no choice as we didn’t know the “rules” of renting in Italy – but oh how I wish we had known. It would have meant a much nicer flat for less money than we actually got in the end. Still, as I say, we didn’t know squat then and had no one to help us with the translation or anything, so it had to be.

The guy was there to show us round. When my friend had phoned originally, she had asked if it was an agency and had been told that “no, it wasn’t really and there would only be a very small charge as he was doing this as a favour for someone”.

The flat was great. Empty, the balcony on the front, overlooking the church was big enough for a small table and several chairs; the terrace at the back was, really, another room, only overlooked by the flats above. The kitchen seemed bigger than I remembered. Nearly all our furniture would fit if V chose not to take anything.

It was going to be such a difficult decision.

Then my friend asked about the rent (which was very reasonable) and the “spese” (this is the annual charge for the upkeep of the building, the cost of the doorman/woman, etc. She was shocked at how much it was. But again, the guy said that we could make an offer and he was sure that the total payable per month would fit my budget. It was looking good. The owner wanted the 3 months deposit and 3 months rent in advance, of course. This was going to make things a bit tight but it was do-able.

But then, my friend asked about the fee. It was to be 20% of the annual rent! It now became impossible. My friend suggested that, maybe, it could be paid over a period of time. “Oh yes”, he replied, “it wouldn’t have to be paid until the contracts were signed”! As my friend said – that means a couple of weeks from now!

Well, on the plus side, it took away the need for choice. It was now down to the perfect-flat-on-the-perfect-street.

Off we trundled into the centre of Milan to meet with the owner of the perfect-flat-on-the-perfect-street, as had been planned.

We arrived at a fabulous old building, just off Via Torino, one of the main shopping streets of Milan. The offices were on the first floor. We went up to see a typical Milanese older lady (probably in her 60s), smartly dressed, with money, jewellery, style, etc. She seemed nice.

On the internet, whilst searching for a flat, you can, usually, select those flats that are being offered privately (rather than through an agency). For this one it was in the private section and the woman living in the flat explained that she had put it on because otherwise she would lose 6 months rent. There was no agency involved.

However, whilst, maybe, not saying that we would have to speak to the owner (although I’m sure she did), she certainly implied it. In fact, this woman we were in front of was the Administrator of the building and not the owner (apparently the owner is 99 and I would get first dibs on the flat, to buy, when she dies!).

Now, here’s the thing, if you get a flat through the Administrator, it is similar to the agency thing. They want their “cut” She wanted 1 months rent as her fee! This was considerably less than the agency fee but, still, with 3 months deposit and 3 months rent in advance it was extra expense that I could do without.

So, I started to get my coat, explaining that the woman in the flat had said/implied that this was with the owner directly and a private deal not through someone wanting their cut.

The Administrator reduced her fee and then reduced it some more. My friend suggested that I pay the three months in advance and one months deposit, over time, building that up to three months deposit.

The woman asked someone else who said absolutely not but – I could pay three months deposit and then pay the rent monthly!

Perfect!

I filled in some details and paid her the ‘fee’. Of course, as it was so much less, although I had a receipt for the fee, once the contract was signed we would tear up the receipt so that the fee would be ‘in nero’ (in the black/under the table). Anyway, the result is that I pay less than I thought in advance even with her fee!

So, it was done! Obviously the contracts have to be drawn up and signed and the woman will try to get the current tenant out by the beginning of April. As soon as she’s out I can move in – and, as a bonus, the contract will start from 1st May so whatever I get, in terms of time in the flat, in April, will be free!

I was very, very happy.

As we were close to Peck and, as I have never been, FfI took me in. It is wonderful. Similar, for those of you who have been, to Harrod’s Food Hall. The displays of food were amazing. And, for future reference – they have Stilton. Immediately, I thought of Stilton and a good glass of Port. The Stilton looked wonderful. I’m sure that heaven, should I get there, is one big food hall, just like Peck!

In celebration we called in at Princi which is really a chain of bakeries – that do apero as well – the food, freshly baked on the premises is great and the cost of the apero, including a plate of food was only €5. For those of you coming to Milan it is one of the best places to go.

Then we made our way back to Isola as our friend-with-the-shop would be closing up and we could go for a drink. We had a lovely time and several drinks.

I still can’t quite believe it and have to keep saying to myself “I’m going to live on the perfect street” just to make it true!

How friends are helping me decide; V & I make an appointment to see each other.

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Last night, one of my friends picked me up and we went to Blender Bar. On the way we passed the perfect-flat-on-the-perfect-street. I described that flat and also the flat-with-the-terrace. My friend lives closer to my current flat and so it will come as no surprise that he prefers the perfect-flat-on-the-perfect-street, since it means we can still go for a drink from time to time as he is on his way back from work..

This afternoon, whilst it is still light, I go with FfI to see the flat-with-the-terrace before, supposedly, going to see the owner of the perfect-flat-on-the-perfect-street. Unsurprisingly, she (my friend from Isola) would prefer me to take the flat-with-the-terrace. Especially since said terrace will allow for bbqs and sunbathing – she likes to be tanned in the summer. After all, it looks much better with white clothes, doesn’t it?.

So, now, the choice is much easier, isn’t it? Or perhaps not.

So my friend, last night, was saying that as the flat-with-the-terrace didn’t have a kitchen, it would be too expensive to fit one. My Isola-friend says, of course, it will not be expensive and it will be quite easy to do. She said, this morning, after informing me of the appointment to see the flat-with-the-terrace that, after viewing, we should just cancel the appointment with the owner of the perfect-flat-on-the-perfect-street!

Still, it is nice to feel wanted, particularly right now.

Meanwhile, V & I have ‘made an appointment’ for Sunday to discuss the dividing of the ‘stuff’. We have to make the appointment because we have, more or less since the end of December, been leading entirely separate lives – sometimes, not even seeing each other for days at a time! It’s a strange period indeed.

The flat-on-the-perfect-street seems to be the perfect-flat-on-the-perfect-street!

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I found three other possibles for a place to live, on the internet. One was an agency (sort of) as I phoned it myself.

FfI came round just after 6. She phoned the other two. One was an agency but would take no commission and the other was an agency. Also we phoned the flat-in-the-building-we-both-like but there was no answer as it must be an office or something.

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The problem with bloody foreigners is that they want more than one room to live in!

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The problem with bloody foreigners is that they want more than one room to live in!

“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.

Saying yes and deciding no; sharing – perhaps not

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Saying yes and deciding no sharing perhaps not

I’m an internet person. Italy is not, really, an internet country. I like a lot of what Italy has to offer but there are some things that Italy does not do so well, such as getting things done without a ton of paperwork; roast beef; lamb; sticking to the rules; not sticking to the rules; personal space; etc.

FfI is being so kind and helping me a lot.

She arrives at my home and we look on the internet. We make calls. We call the nice flat and the flat-on-the-perfect-street and some others.

We go for something to eat. We visit flats. We visit the nice flat. There is someone else interested. What seemed quite a big flat is suddenly quite a small flat but I don’t want to lose out and my friend really likes it (she hasn’t seen the flat-on-the-perfect-street yet).

We (I) agree to take it. I have to meet the woman on Monday night to start the contract thing. I suddenly don’t want it at all. It’s too small; it’s too far out of town; it has no character; I can’t picture my furniture in it. In fact, it’s only really redeeming feature is that it is available now (almost) and every fitting is new. But, I question, what if the flat-on-the-perfect-street (which is a bit smaller) is actually not good when I next see it? FfI and I are going on Monday night, just before I meet this woman.

After: FfI thinks it was much smaller and devoid of character as well.

We go to see another flat. In an area I don’t really know so well. The pictures make it look like some sort of penthouse. And, it has a terrace!

It’s tiny and wood everywhere. Although it has large windows the wood everywhere makes it seem dark. It’s awkwardly laid out. The terrace is huge but, obviously not used by the current tenant. There is no oven but he’s going to get a combi-oven. Hmm. I don’t really like him.

The clincher is the dogs. In answer to the question there is no doubt. No. My mind has already removed it from my list, in spite of the terrace, but now it is erased completely.

We decide to go for a pizza but end up at the Mexican. We like the Mexican. The food is superb. It’s Piedra del Sol, near Repubblica. They do great tequila cocktails. Without V being there and wanting more than 1 (or 4 or 5) the meal turned out to be so reasonably priced! We did share a main course as, normally, it is far too much for one and most of it taken home in a doggy bag. It was just right.

Today we went to a very nice flat just off Corso Buenos Aries. Like the one I had agreed to take but much more central and for the same price, more or less. Then to another near to the one I had agreed to take. It’s a definite. It’s too far out. I will call her tomorrow to say I’ve changed my mind.

So now CBA has taken over as the one that is up against the flat-on-the-perfect-street. Tomorrow night we go to see (together) flat-on-the-perfect-street and then another which is on three floors. Personally, I think it’s either CBA or flat-on-the-perfect-street.

Decisions have to be made.

Then, as we’re walking back from the other too-far-out-flat to the American Donut Café (we planned brunch) we pass a block that we both said that we would like to live in, very close to where I live now. There was one for rent. More or less the size of the one I live in now but one less bedroom. So FfI suggested living together >I’m not sure that would be perfect. I think she would get fed up with the dust from the dogs pretty damn quick. Plus she has some habits that, as a lover, I could probably cope with – as just a friend would probably have me killing her within a couple of weeks (or, even, days), even if I do love her to bits!

If it was the right price, it would be nice but…..

We shall see. Enough of looking at flats. I just want to be in somewhere and start getting back to normal even if it is the new normal (whatever that may be).

The Florist makes Pizza and other slightly crazy things

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We’re deciding where to go for a pizza. We will be driving.

He said, ‘I know a great pizza place in a flower shop’.

I say, incredulously, ‘in a flower shop?’

‘Well,’ he responds, ‘it’s a very big flower shop’.

‘So, more like a garden centre?’ I ask.

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The weekend goes according to plan; the weekend does not go according to plan

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Depending, of course, on the way that you look at it and your frame of mind.

The weather was good, on Sunday. Saturday night was lovely – a meal with friends – maybe a tad too much to drink but, hey, why not?

The rest of the time was looking for flats and recovering. The looking for flats made me both happy and unhappy. Happy because I can get something I can afford that is well big enough; unhappy because it will be just me and the boys.

And, at one point we (and I say ‘we’ as it was me and FfI) went from a beautifully furnished compact but nice place in not-such-a-good area to something that can only be described as a vacated drug den in a place that looked like one of the American Projects – and both for the same price.

The nice flat also had a ‘half lift’. Obviously the building was built without a lift and they managed to fit one in but it was very narrow and you could not get more than 2 people in it- so I did wonder about me and both dogs – it would be a squeeze. However, I could move in there tomorrow and, if nothing else happens this week, I might just do that.

Of course, I would prefer to be hunting with V. However, that is not to be. But, do I get something that is big enough, just in case, like before, after several months apart we just end up back together? I wonder if he thinks of that?

Of course, this time it is different and there is part of me that says that, even if we wanted to be back together, there’s no way we can be. And there’s no way that I should let it happen anyway!

But, another part of me would have it back tomorrow – no, even this moment – even knowing that so many things remain unresolved.

We did manage to communicate over the weekend, which was more than we had for about a month and a half! We spoke about the car; the furniture; flats (our current experiences, what we were looking for, etc.) – but not about the dogs; or us; or our feelings of hurt or anger or passion or, in fact, anything that really matters.

The future’s bright, the future’s what colour?; It’s life, Jim, but not as we know it.

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The future. Unless you have kids and are thinking of their future, the future must, inevitably, include you. And this makes it a very fragile thing that only exists in your own head.

For, if we are not in the future, then the future that you thought in your head doesn’t and will not exist.

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Eating month-old panettone will protect your throat; More snow

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Today is the Saint’s Day for Saint Biagio. I learnt about this because, apparently, in order to protect yourself from problems with your throat, one should eat some panettone from Christmas.

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Candle burning at both ends; Rituals

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I am far too old for this. Since Wednesday, out every night and not back until 1 or 2 in the morning, or, even later. What am I thinking of? As I normally get up at 5.45, I find that I cannot really sleep in past about 7 whatever time I arrive back home the night before.

Dinners with friends; dinners at friends; parties at friends; just out with friends. And, come about 11 I get so tired. I mention that I shall go home and I get the response of – “Really?” or “Stay a little longer”.

It has to stop but not for tonight or Tuesday night and, probably not Monday night either since I need to ask someone for help.

The idea of coming home after work and just sitting down with a glass of wine and watching a film is such a pleasurable thought, almost like paradise. Not that I don’t enjoy being out with friends, of course. It is impossible to say “no” even though I should. I don’t want to disappoint friends and I enjoy their company – it is fun. And life is too short to miss out on “life”. And friends are what makes life worth living, in my opinion. The joy of being in the company of like-minded people or people who are fun and talking or laughing is what is so good.

And now the boys are pressing to be taken out. They do not see the snow that is falling (enough of winter!) nor would Dino care. So, whilst they wait, they play or, rather, Dino winds Rufus up by walking round him with the occasional lick or nudge or, worse, trying to mount him. As they are now separated when we are not here and at night (because of the barking problem) it’s the ritual they go through each morning and evening. After Dino has brought out, one by one, his toys for me to throw or, again, to try and wind Rufus up.

Then, for a short while, one of them lies on his back whilst the other attacks at the throat and, if it’s Rufus doing the “attacking”, the way that he kneels down, his paws tucked underneath him, to stop Dino going for the feet – until one of them barks or yelps too loudly and they get shouted at.

The ritual of checking who’s boss, of course. I think it’s still Rufus but Dino gets stronger and bolder and more clever every day.

So now it is a shower and out for the long walk we always have at the weekend even if we are not able to have that during the week (depending upon time).