When I visited Italy to buy a property, the official at the Lisbon customs check in asked me several questions, "How long are you staying?...Where is your return ticket?.....Where are you staying?" Here I was, carrying a truck load of papers to prove that I had a home and means, etc., and there was not a word. Just a smile and a stamp. ???? I nearly laughed out loud. That was way too easy.
The connecting flight was slightly late, but not too bad and took another three hours.
Also in my favor, DaVinci airport was relatively quiet. The bags came out on the carousel, all three together.....and since there was hardly anyone around, I was able to wrest them off the carousel and onto a cart. Two airport workers noticed and came to help. They quickly arranged the bags on the cart so it was easy to push. That was too easy, too. It was amazing.
The taxi driver was there with my name card. Off we went in a Mercedes van. I could even put my feet up. I was so tired, but I wanted to see the countryside, so I willed my eyes to stay open.
The only snafu occurred in Penne. The driver would not listen to me. He listened to his GPS and got stuck on Allesandrini, which narrows at a corner turn. He could not fit. He backed up, pulled up where there was a little cul de sac and then backed through the corner turn. I was calling a gentleman here whom we met when we bought the place, I will call him "Banks." Banks showed up and scolded the driver, I tipped him and he managed to wiggle down and out to wider streets. Banks and I hauled the luggage to the house.
I don't know how many hours I had been up at that point, but I was fading fast. The boiler in the house, which we knew was on its' last legs, decided to give up just before I arrived. That means no heat and no hot water. My dream of having a nice shower in my own bathroom vanished.
Banks was good enough to bring over an electric space heater, which actually works quite well, but the cold shower was dreadful. Really dreadful.
Being British, I'm not sure that Banks understands what an ordeal it is to get here from the U.S. He kept asking me if I wanted to go out and meet some other Americans who are planning to move here. I nearly was in tears and continued to beg off. We settled on coffee in the morning. Va bene.
The next day we met at a café for cappuccino. I met a lovely couple from Ohio and we compared notes and I related some aspects of our year long ordeal. I picked up some items at the supermarket. And then I waited for Harry Spotter.
The people at Airborne Animals and Bliss Pets in Italy were absolutely wonderful and timed everything to the minute!! I was kept informed of his progress all along the way and was even sent a picture of him, out of his kennel, after landing in Roma.
I was standing at the corner up the block (again because the streets are too narrow for vans or trucks) and saw no sign of him. Then the text said, "She is coming up another way." Just as I read that, I heard a dog bark. It sounded like my boy. I turned around, and there they were!! Then Harry went slightly nuts, a couple of more huge, loud barks and once I got to him all whimpers and wiggles and the strangest "hah...hah...hah" sound. But his happy meter was in full gear!! Then this tiny woman, Cecilia, carried his gigantic kennel right into our courtyard! I couldn't thank her enough.
Harry inspected every room, even the bathroom, which is very unusual for him. And he was happy to find one of his old beds waiting for him.
We did it Harry. It was rough, and took a very long time, but we did it. Bravo ragazzo!
