Get it sorted

18th August 2024

The first day of the holidays got off to a flying start as Stephen finished shifting the wood. There wasn’t a lot left to move; it was mainly tidying up the bits of kindling and sweeping up. Unfortunately, it was a bit downhill after that, but what can you expect when dealing with Italian bureaucracy?

All dogs in Italy have to be registered with the local health authorities, and Stephen did this with the help of Sauro, not long after we arrived, at the relevant office in the hospital at Montegiorgio, fifteen minutes or so away. When we were at the vet’s last week, he printed off and signed the required notification to say that you no longer have the dog, for whatever reason. He said we had ten days in which to notify the authorities and Monday seemed a good day to make the necessary visit to the Sanità Animale office at the hospital.

Stephen checked the website on Sunday, where it said the office was open every day from 11.00 to 13.00, and so off we went. We found the hospital easily enough, but Stephen having slept not a little since his last visit couldn’t remember where precisely to go, and as the porter’s office at the entrance was closed we acted creatively and asked at the finance desk where a very helpful young man explained where to find it, but added doubtfully that he wasn’t sure if it was open.

We followed his directions (go back outside, turn right, go down the hill and it’s the big door on the right near the bottom), and yes, he was right. It wasn’t open – nor likely to be in the foreseeable future. The printed sheet on the door, effective ostensibly from the 12/02/24, a date that had been scribble out and 15/07/24 written beside it as one of the day’s opening times, all of which were different from the website, had been altered. Given all this, all hope might not have been lost as Monday said 12.00 – 12.30, which would have meant hanging around for half an hour or so if this notice hadn’t been superseded by the one below it.

This, dated 01/07/24 (so where the scribbled amendment fitted in is anyone’s guess) said that all activity for the public had been suspended and referred you to their kennels outside Fermo, giving the address and telephone number. There was no point hanging around so we headed back home, with Stephen saying he would get in touch with Maddalena to see if she could help – not that we were averse to going to the kennels, but a 25-minute trip each way was a bit of an ask if it turned out that we were chasing after that wild goose.

The upshot of all this is that following a bit of checking and research, Maddalena said that we could scan and send the documents with a covering email giving various pieces of information and this should be acceptable. We followed her instructions and sent everything on Tuesday. As yet we have had no response, but why would we? Stephen is going to contact them again this coming week just to check so cross your fingers.

Tuesday Harry showed how good his eyesight was when he suddenly jumped off my lap after our evening merenda and started barking in his own mad, inimitable way through the terrazzo railings at something. We were at a bit of a loss to know what it was, which is usually the case as often it is nothing, but then through the trees in the middle of the field on the other side of the road Stephen spied one of Mario and Luigi’s turkeys on walkabout.

It must have enjoyed the exercise as two days later, when while we were taking our morning constitutional, Harry suddenly sped up as he had spotted his friend ahead of him, in the road this time. We didn’t catch up with it, which was just as well, as it took a detour into the field and rocked its way back up to the brothers’ house. I’m not sure how they advertise their turkeys when that time comes to sell them, but if any bird can be classed as free range, theirs surely can.

It may have been holiday time but we were up bright and early on Wednesday as it was the morning set aside for a trip to Ikea. When I asked Stephen what we needed, it seemed like the only things on the list were a couple of new pillows so I’m not sure where all the other things that filled up our trolley came from. I guess that is the way - you never know what you need till you see it.

The major addition to the scant shopping list was some pine shelving, which Stephen thought would be a good addition to the lumber room. This was sorely in need of some sorting out before they come to start work on the house. I actually helped put this together, holding the odd strut steady while Stephen made with the Allen key, and it now houses Harry’s food as well as the stock of cleaning items and tinned goods that were stacked on the overflow fridge (invaluable at this time of the year).

After this minor but promising start on Wednesday afternoon, Thursday morning witnessed a concerted effort, which continued on Friday afternoon. A lot of stuff, such as gardening equipment, was moved to the other downstairs room that opens onto the back of the house, other stuff was organised and sorted more accessibly, and still more was piled up at the front of the house for taking to the Ecocentro Comunale. This latter pile somehow managed to include three printers, three DVD recorders (remember them?) a Sky box (why was that brought from Ramsbottom?) and two hoovers. Strange I know, but we finally decided we didn’t need to hold on to them any longer.

That may seem an odd way to spend Ferragosto, Italy’s other main holiday after Christmas Day, but (a) a sunny morning turned into a rainy afternoon as the weather pattern changed into that familiar trope for the next few days, and (b) we had booked for dinner at CarloCarla in the evening, avoiding the madness of lunch in a sultry chalet at the beach which seems di rigueur for this particular feast day. Fortunately, the afternoon rain was short-lived so we were able to eat outside in the relative coolness of the late evening, enjoying a limoncello spritz as the sun set. A just reward for all our efforts – especially Stephen’s.

Yesterday turned into an out and about sort of day, starting in the morning when we took a car full of stuff (seats down to increase the Jeep’s capacity) to the Ecocentro where a phlegmatic supervisor indicated where to deposit everything amongst the bewildering selection of receptacles – and judging by how full they all were it seems that we aren’t the only ones having a good summer clear out. After that it was on to the Chinese store in Monte Urano for a couple of essentials, and as it was only a few minutes from there to Totò (which contrary to our assumption about holidays last week was open), it seemed rude not to continue on for cappuccino and crostata.

That would, after a prolonged absence, have been Stephen’s second visit in eight days if we hadn’t found ourselves there for an Aperol spritz some hours later. After last week’s abortive attempt to give Harry an outing, we thought we would try again. Checking the sign last week, Chupito is allegedly open Wednesday to Saturday from 17.00. Allegedly. I’d checked its Instagram page several times during the afternoon and there was no indication of anything amiss, but at six o’clock everything was closed up with no sign of life. At least this time we were fairly certain Totò would be open, and it was. Harry had a fine time sitting gazing out at the road and the view to Fermo, so he was more than happy.

We managed to reinstate our beach walk this morning, and a pretty quiet one it was. With a less than promising forecast for the afternoon, a lot of people had obviously decided on other plans for the day, meaning there were just the hardier souls out walking and the parents with young children, because why would a bit of cloud deter them? The promised rain did arrive in the afternoon and set in, on and off, for most of the rest of the day, coming down fairly hard at times. What better thing to do, then, than to book a holiday, and so we will be heading to Paphos in October for a week of lying by the pool, taking the odd stroll and eating good food. Harry will be being made a fuss of in the kennels we used last year, and finding lots of things to bark at (see above).

And that should be that, except for a bit of a surprise when we opened the post box on Friday morning and found, addressed to Stephen, a card regarding his postal vote in the upcoming election – the one that happened seven weeks ago. It was notifying him that they were going to send the postal vote around 19th June, and he did indeed receive it, but a little time after I got mine and with only a week to get it back to be counted. Let’s hope it was quicker returning, because his vote could have made all the difference in such a knife-edge ballot.