Small Moments

One night I was walking home from somewhere (probably from Piazza Napoleone where I had eaten a cheeky late afternoon gelato) and I heard the most delicious laughing and squealing behind me. When I turned around it was a husband and wife and their young daughter on a bicycle behind me. The husband with his giant mop of hair and caramel skin was trying to pedal while his cute Italian wife was on the seat with their gorgeous daughter in front of her. The bike was wobbling, careening off in all kinds of directions and they were all just genuinely giggling and laughing so hard that it made me just laugh and smile with them. It was a rare moment, of true unadulterated simple delight, a family just having the time of their lives together. It was so touching, like the most beautiful scene from a movie and it honestly almost brought a tear to my eye, that’s how divine it was.

We need to notice those divine moments like that in our lives, personally I’d love to see more of them, because even in a most beautiful place like Lucca, where I was never under the illusion that it would all be sunshine, rainbows and gelato, you’ve of course got to deal with your run of the mill everyday unglamorous stuff and this blog is telling you like it is, so strap yourselves in to hear the good, the bad and the ugly.

Since I’ve been here I have been having some health issues, namely an allergic reaction to the trees and pollen, something I’ve never dealt with before so I have absolute sympathy for all the hayfever sufferers out there. It actually first started in Australia this past summer, whenever I went outside, an itch on the outside of my throat followed by wheezing and coughing. It has taken on another dimension here, to the point where I had to use an asthma inhaler on several occasions because I was wheezing so badly and coughing all night, getting no sleep that I was starting to resemble a raccoon. As we are still waiting until the end of June on getting our official permesso paperwork I don’t have a healthcard as yet, and have not been assigned a doctor, so being sick is a complicated affair. Luckily “The Friendly People in Lucca” Facebook group the font of very useful information shared by others, mentioned something called Doctors In Italy a site you could book an online video appointment, and in the blink of an eye the next day I was talking to lovely Dr Pucchetti in Rome an allergy and immune system specialist. He quickly ascertained from my descriptions that I was likely allergic, especially when he learned I was living in Lucca, (his hometown as it turned out), “so beautiful, so many trees, it is no wonder.” “Have you tried the famous Lucchese pastries?”, (the ones with the sweet, aniseedy rice inside) I told him, indeed I had sampled one of those and it was absolutely delicious and such a surprising flavour, especially as I thought I had bought an apple pastry! (I didn’t tell him that bit).

The wheezing died down but the morning cough persisted and so I was sent for a chest Xray just to be sure there wasn’t something more sinister going on. The Xray place was a short bus ride outside the walls where to my delight I discovered the German supermarket Lidl that I used to visit back when I lived in Scotland. I got held up at a train level crossing for a while but made it with a bit of time to spare to the XRay appointment. I had barely set foot in the waiting room and realised there was nowhere to sit when a gentleman promptly within seconds insisted on offering me his seat (chivalry is not dead here). I was listening out earnestly for my number to be called“centosette” (107) but the man called out uno, zero, sette and after he waited and then disappeared I suddenly realised oh that was me and I had to enlist the help of the kind receptionist to go chasing after him for me, the stranieri imbecile who can’t even count!

I was led to a little cubicle to get changed but the cubicle door that led into the Xray room did not close properly so I essentially got undressed in front of the Xray tech. Luckily us girls know how to yank our bras out from under a t-shirt without exposing ourselves. Then trying to follow the instructions in Italian being given to me( by I must say) the very handsome Xray technician I embarrassingly stood there in my undies and a t-shirt, no gown, thinking I should have shaved my legs, perhaps worn nicer underpants as he moved and positioned my arms here, there and everywhere!! But why would you need to shave your legs and wear nicer underpants for a chest Xray I ask you? Anyway, despite all my embarrassment, the medical facility was immaculate, like something out of a sci-fi movie, the staff were efficient, sweet, kind, and very helpful. Riding back on the bus I was thinking how lucky I was when a swarm of bus inspectors got onto the bus. I wasn’t worried at all, but the next minute I, along with pretty much everyone on the bus was being fined, me because my 70 minute bus ticket was apparently over time by about 4 minutes. I tried to explain that I got on the bus about 10 minutes ago when it was still within time, but they were having none of it and probably couldn’t understand. my convoluted explanation, and so my bus ride ended up costing the same amount of money as my Xray!!

Less than 24 hours later the results we're in my hand with an all clear, so that was a relief, but the cough persisted even though some of the symptoms had died down thanks to the medicines Dr. Pucchetti had prescribed. Four weeks of coughing takes its toll on you and one day while visiting our apartment we stopped for coffee at our favourite patisserie Sandras, and while waiting I decided to just pop into the medical centre that was next door just to find out about any possible English speaking doctors or if they would even see someone without an Italian health card at some point in the future. I made my long speech in Italian and apologised for my poor Italian and the receptionist replied in English “You speak Italian very well and come with me its quiet right now you can see a doctor”. The next minute I was sitting with a doctor having an appointment who listened to my chest, said I was having a severe allergy -induced asthmatic episode and prescribed some new medications. The appointment was hilarious because he spoke no English, I tried to explain my symptoms in Italian, with charades and my handy little Italian/English app on my phone. He was doing the same on his computer. but we got there and when I asked him who and how I should pay as I didn’t have a healthcard yet he said “no pay.” I was so shocked and he said no pay, you are unwell of course you needed a doctor. I have heard good things about the Italian health system, which ranks as one of the top 3 in the world and both doctors I dealt with were very compassionate and caring, not just typing away on their computer and shoving you out the door in under two minutes like I was used to in Melbourne. When I came out of his office the waiting room was getting full of people and I thought to myself wow, some universal force was truly looking out for me today. The steroid he prescribed worked very well and within days the cough dramatically improved and I have actually had a few good nights sleep finally!! I was so grateful to whatever it was that caused me to make that spur of the moment decision to pop into that medical centre, because being sick when you are far away from home, or certainly a place that was your home for a long time is scary, especially when you still don’t speak the language fluently, still don’t have your own doctor and are still traversing the immigration process. It is definitely daunting.

Our little rare as hens teeth “pet-friendly” Airbnb I have to say has provided us with moments of sheer frustration and moments of utter hilarity usually due to the build-up of said frustration that you have to laugh otherwise you’d cry. On the surface its adequate, couple of bedrooms, a couch,small kitchen, bathroom, but it definitely has some quirks. The fridge is a small bar fridge that fits under the counter and is in such a spot under the “TV set” and right by the dining table that you have to be a contortionist to actually get anything out if it, and when you do contort your body into a pretzel it is nigh on impossible to find anything in it despite its minuscule size. The freezer section really does not work at all and just seems to leak water on to whatever is on the top shelf of the fridge. “I was sure I bought a bag of salad leaves, where’s the butter, what the heck happened to that zucchini?” and other such utterances are heard on a daily basis usually with a few other choice swear words thrown in, when random items seem to jettison themselves out on to the floor for no good reason, probably trying to make a run for it from that damn fridge!. My mum reckons I’m developing Tourettes, she said she’s never ever heard me swear so much in her life, and that’s just at the fridge. The dishwasher is another story. When you open the door the whole machine tilts forward and the bottom shelf full of dishes flies out onto the floor or lands on your foot. which is usually what I stick out in order to not break all the dishes. So you have to be sure you are applying pressure on the top half of the dishwasher when you open the door and. keep it there while trying to stack dishes into it. Then sometimes for no reason the racks won’t slide out, they worked perfectly when you put the dishes on, did a load and now they’re refusing to budge! I have sometimes wondered if there are hidden cameras and I am on Candid Camera or that American TV show Punked!?

The minisucle shower I think I have mentioned in a previous post and every night its whose turn is it to go into the dungeon first where once again the soap dish that we had to buy because there wasn’t one, spontaneously jumps off the back of the toilet of its own accord every time. Shower caddy? What’s that? Everything is balanced precariously on the back of the loo chez nous, don’t you know.

The sink in the kitchen decided not to drain anymore and despite our eco-friendly techniques of going out and buying a plunger, some Bicarbonate of Soda and white vinegar it just wasn’t budging. Any complaints to the Airbnb host have been met with responses like well if you put things down the drain then it is likely to get blocked, like the only thing that has gone down that drain is water and even it doesn’t want to go down there! Giulietta the lovely cleaning lady was sent in to try and see what the problem was, and she tried to fix it by pouring the most toxic smelling chemicals known to man down the sink. We had been out for the day in Pisa for respite and came home to a chemical smell so strong that you could taste it, and my lips felt like they were burning and the sink was still not draining. Eventually after a week of not being able to use the kitchen sink, some guys showed up with a giant hose going out of a truck that eventually did the trick. Giulietta said the pipes are so old, it s no wonder the drain was blocked and she looked horrified as black bilge came up out in the bathroom as well as the kitchen sink.

I think I might send the Airbnb host the bill for a new glasses prescription because the lighting is so bad I am sure I am going to need one by the time I leave here. Of the 10 or so bulbs in the chandeliers only 5 of them work casting a gloomy light. I had to use the stove light in order to actually see what I is I am trying to cook, and now even one half of that has given upon the ghost. The ironing board is essentially a piece of metal with a cloth that does not fit over it, so bad that I had to go out and buy an ironing board! Ahh and the second bed is SO uncomfortable I am sure that sleeping on an anthill would be more comfortable, so we haven’t used it at all, opting instead for the couch in the living room. Lastly, not a night goes by when some kamikaze zanzare (mosquito) on the warpath bites one of us to death, so I plaster myself with some Aussie Walkabout hardcore insect repellent in the hopes of emitting a very unattractive scent, but they persist and every morning we come out of our rooms showing off our mosquito bites and bragging when we didn't get bit. Aah the glamorous life!

Did I mention that I just found out that our ship has been delayed? It will sit in Genoa for 3 weeks for no good reason at all at the beginning of July then take only one day to sail to Livorno where our shipping container will disembark. I called the shipping guy to ask if there is any chance the container could just get off in Genoa. He told me its not like a bus where you can hop on or off and said he had to go as he was at Milan train station trying to buy a panini and he would call me later! God forbid that anyone should interrupt panini-buying!! Ahem, still waiting on that call back by the way!

I have been writing this post while afflicted with the dreaded Covid, which finally caught up with me and then my poor mum, just to make things worse, and it has taken me ages to write because my eyes would not focus properly and my head was pounding. When I informed the Airbnb host that I got Covid and then my mum got it too because unfortunately it was very difficult to isolate from one another because of the bed and the mosquitoes have made things very uncomfortable, I was met with a response that was just plain shocking in its lack of any empathy. “Well weren’t you wearing masks, and no one has ever complained about the bed ever or the mosquitoes before. We live next door and we don’t have mosquitoes because we have these electric things you plug in which emit a horrible chemical scent, and no-one has screens on their windows and in any case since you’ve been here all kinds of things have gone wrong, and perhaps you should leave if you are so unhappy and I will give you a refund!”

I have come to the conclusion that she must think we are a pair of ingrates from “downunder” who have never seen washing machines, sinks, ironing boards and beds when in fact the opposite is true ours actually function properly! She is not willing to admit that she needs to actually listen to her guests and do something about her apartment which is clearly not suited for any kind of longer stay. I was too exhausted to mention that the mosquito repellent plug-in that was in the apartment did not work at all, and perhaps she’d like me to go out to the shops in my Covid-Positive state and buy one of those to add to the list of things we have needed to buy in order to make the place liveable! Aye Carumbah! Now I have truly digressed and this post has turned into a bit of a tirade so I do apologise.

One night when walking along Via del Fosso which is a street with. a canal in it, the sun was setting, the sky had a beautiful peachy glow, there was a youth music festival happening behind the walls of an old villa, and there was a band on stage with a female vocalist who sounded amazing as the music echoed down the street as we walked. There is just something truly magical about the sound of an outdoor concert. Further up the street next to the canal was a father with his little daughter pretending to dance in slow motion as he twirled her around, and she smiled with delight, and up on a balcony of an apartment overlooking the street was an old “nonna” looking down on them wearing an apron over her dress, just beaming at them, and I thought once again it was one of the most beautiful moments I had ever experienced like something out of a movie with a perfect soundtrack. I love those small blissful moments, which can make all the suffering we all experience from time to time just vanish in the wind.