Before the Dawn, the Dark
Upon my arrival in Tuscany, I was greeted by Doris, bearing rolls of toilet paper, a bottle of Prosecco and flowers. A most pleasant sorpressa this was! - but it was followed by some bad news. Despite having been told the contrary before returning to the States, all utilities had been disconnected. Contracts are required for utilities before service is turned on (unlike in the U.S. where only a call to change the billing name is required). The contracts require a fee, not a refundable deposit; for the electricity this was 150 euros. I was assured that within 24 hours of receiving proof that the previous owner had cleared any utstanding bills, the electricity would be connected. The previous owner claimed not to be able to find the paid bill; only when the attorney went to his house was it located and faxed to the electric company - but still it took five days to be reconnected.

The apartment was also still full of the vendor's things. Dino, one of the three sellers, promised to remove his contents right away. I finally agreed to keep a few things he had offered me, and after a call to his attorney, his belongings finally departed. 

In addition, the apartment was sporco, filthy, from being unoccupied for two and a half years. The cleaners I had booked professed to have spent 18 hours on the cleaning, but it was hard to find where and what they had done. 

Next job was to arrange for the gas to be connected; however, because the gas had been disconnected, the company, Gasem, was now insisting that the gas meter be moved from the apartment to the ground This meant getting an official estimate from Gasem - so two weeks for the official to turn up and another ten days for the actual estimate. This was to install the meter - additional piping was a separate issue. Things, to put it mildly, were becoming quite an ordeal. 

Once the apartment was finally emptied, the painters could resume their work. Since I had been told that Italian painters could match any color, I arrived with color samples - only to learn that they work from a formula - and that the formulas don't always match their own paint chips. When the first paint, a sort of yellowish-green, went on the wall, the color was much too dark. Although we lightened a little, the final result was darker than I wanted, but I decided to live with it anyway to save time. I had to spend many additional hours though, cleaning paint splashes off furniture, fixtures and fittings. 

Having quoted 3,000 euros for the job, the painter asked for more money since, as he said, "it was been more work than I anticipated." - because he had pulled the old paper off, rather than steaming it, large lumps of plaster had fallen away too, and he ended up re-plastering. Not only that, I found some of my personal things missing; on investigation it turned out that the painter had sub-contracted to other workers who had been left unsupervised in my apartment. When I demanded the return of my things and threatened to call the police, an international incident nearly developed. 

I was still awaiting estimates from heating contractors. Dino had promised to produce an estimate from one idraulico, plumber, the type of company that provides hot water heating systems. After mild weather, the temperature suddenly turned to freezing. An electric space heater that I bought only reduced the chill slightly. The inadequacy of the windows - thin glass and space around the frames, coupled with the lack of any insulation of the brick structure, also became all too obvious. New glass and insulating material were thus added to the shopping list. Finally after two weeks, Dino produced an estimate of 5,800 euros for the heating, nearly twice his original quote, and simply a total - no itemization of parts. A gas-heated system would be another 2,600 euros to include moving the gas meter - so a total cost of 8,400 euros, nearly three times what Dino had claimed before the sale. Staying calma, calm, was impossible. I felt angry at having been had and frustrated by the seemingly never-ending problems and escalating cost for simply putting the basics in place. This project was more like a nightmare than a dream. 

Doris eventually found Tecnopiu´, which turned out to be a competent, although expensive, company. They installed insulation on the north wall, a new electric stove top for 500 euros (since the improvements necessary to obtain gas service were too expensive), and a radiant electric heating system that creates a reasonably warm environment, all for 7,000 euros, including the wall insulation. I had to change my contract with the electric company, however, to enable me to increase my available energy to 6,000 KW from the 3,000 KW of electricity - which cost another 250 euros. I saved of course the 2600 euros that it would have cost to obtain gas, a difference of 2,000 euros. Technopiu´ was more responsive than any of the other firms I contacted, most of whom did not bother to quote. Although even Tecnopiu´ sometimes failed to tun up at agreed times (a common Italian practice), so I wasted time waiting for people. 

The biggest sorpressa, and one much more difficult to overcome, was the neighborhood. I realized quite soon that San Vito did not fit my picture of a neighborhood with the lively street life. The street is pretty empty most times, except for 10:30 am caffe, coffee -time, though there is an all day bar patronized by a group of men exhibiting fairly advanced stages of inebriation. San Vito is rather featureless, with buildings, surrounded by gravel, erected in the 1960s, some trash on the streets (unlike the constantly-cleaned streets of Lucca center) and only a few plants and flowers. The trees along the street were attractive – until Commune workers arrived with their chain saw and chopped off most of the branches. 

Additionally, I felt rather isolated. I had hoped to continue to live without a car, as I had the past seven years. Lucca Centro, center, is only a short bike ride, and, although many people do ride bikes here, the narrow street without pavements and with many fast cars feels too risky. Buses go to Lucca center every ten minutes or so but stop operating about 8:20 pm and on Sunday mornings and holidays. Outside bus - operating times, taxis are available, but expensive. I had also expected more expatriates, but they are largely in Lucca and the surrounding communities. In San Vito, few if any people speak English and although I have started to study the language, I am not nearly ready for even a normal conversation in Italian. No amount of visualizing is likely to change the neighborhood to fit my desires. 

On the plus side, my apartment is now quite pleasant and comfortable. The building itself is well maintained, the location extremely quiet. With a car, anywhere in the area can be accessed easily; and there is plenty of off-street parking. 

Being honest, the neighborhood is not completely lacking but has shops for buying meat, fish, bread and pastry, fresh produce and other groceries, magazines, clothing, fabric, both a pharmacy and an herb store for health and beauty supplies, and gelato (a must), and also laundries, leather repair, TV repair and dressmaking services, and a post office, as well as the aforementioned bars and pizzeria. Within a five-minute bike ride or ten-minute walk is a huge supermarket/discount department store. Besides, if a person is looking for a real Italian neighborhood, not an American or British one in Italy, this is such a neighborhood. 'Eliminating the negative and exaggerating the positive' is not very useful when buying property - but then, neither is the opposite. The best approach is to be realistic - learn as much as possible in advance about the community and neighborhood, both what you like and what you don't like, and seek the best match. 

A Crack of Dawn
Obtaining the shipment held a few surprises. Before leaving the States, I had told the shipping company contact that I wouldn't have email right away and to please call me. However, once in Italy when I finally found an internet point, I had an urgent message from the Italian delivery company, Cittadina, saying my shipment was in and ready for delivery but that they needed additional documentation (a Residence Certificate for one thing). I mailed the documents (because they don’t accept faxes, as do such offices in every other country). Then I was told that if I didn't accept the shipment on the Wednesday, I would be charged 50 euros a day. When the delivery came, though, the movers were extremely proficient, careful and polite - a bright light among the dim. I hastened to write the company to commend them. 

Immediately came the fun of putting things, many of which I hadn't seen in years, in their proper places. My biggest mistake was not realizing that American TV is not compatible with European standards and that the electricity voltage is 220volts not 110 as in the Sates ...so most of my electrical goods were useless in Italy. 

Of course I had read everywhere and been told by many people - "do not bring a lot of stuff; sell it, give it away; get rid of it and buy new when you reach your destination." However, I was reluctant to part with many things, especially those that held emotional value for me and also, buying new things promised to be expensive. In Italy, people have an aversion to buying used things so selling things here is not as easy as in the US and other places. 

About two weeks after Doris arranged by phone for the telephone contract (for a cost of 150 euros), Telecom, the monopoly telephone company sent someone to install both the telephone and the high-speed internet because all internet systems used the telephone wires. The modem was delivered by courier and then installed by one man, the telephone by another. The internet worked beautifully – for two days. After buying and plugging in a new working telephone, the modem failed to work at all. When the telephone company was reached (by Roberto because I could not understand the sequential recorded messages – in Italian) the respondent said they could fix it at some remote location but if it didn't work tomorrow to call again. They said the same thing every day for eight days, with no result. Finally, on the ninth day, a technician showed up at the door - and discovered that my modem was malfunctioning. He couldn't fix it of course - nor even return it to the office. Rather, I must take it to a shop five kilometers away and exchange it. Then, having a technician install the new one would cost 50 to 100 euros. At Media World nearby I bought a good, wireless modem that enables me to access the web anywhere in the apartment, and hired an English computer expert to install it. All together I spent about 200 euros extra for the service I was supposed to have for 39 euros a month.

The internet infrastructure is actually (amazingly to me) worse in Italy than in Armenia and Albania, which have had only a few years to develop. I really missed having internet at home. Not yet knowing anyone and not yet having a tv or radio, either, I felt isolated. While waiting for the connection, I used internet services, which I found inside the Lucca walls for a charge of five to ten euros per hour. The service was good, with well-functioning, high-speed equipment. Some of them also have very inexpensive and popular long distance calling services, plus faxing and copying. I was thrilled to finally have good internet at home, though. It changed my life for the better. Being able to talk with my daughter, Becky, and friends via Skype, spending only pennies for clear voice communication, was great. Contracts for water and sewer and trash pickup are also necessary in Italy. Fortunately, Roberto was able to assist me with this. Since I had lived abroad in countries where I was not fluent in the languages, I had expected I could manage on my own. I had failed to consider quite how few people spoke English here and so how difficult it would be to communicate. There are some 'for fee' services available and I do recommend taking advantage of one, rather than trying to do it yourself if you don't know the language and/or the way things work. 

When I found the Grapevine, a monthly English language newsletter for expatriates in Lucca and a wonderful resource, life became easier still. There I found a listing for Gary, a handyman, whom I hired to make small repairs. When I saw that Gary's work was excellent, I hired him to cover the horrible dark brown patterned tile in the kitchen with lovely antique white tile. The result was stunning. The suddenly-modern and light kitchen lightened my mood as well. I think that each region or sufficiently large town has a newsletter or other resource such as the Grapevine. The local Visitors' Bureau should be able to tell you. 

Unbelievably, by the time of the Christmas break, my apartment was relatively pleasant and comfortable. Although achieving this had seemed at times an impossible process, I was amazed to see how much had been accomplished in two months. 

Following the holiday break, I was rejuvenated and ready for the next phase. The tiny bathroom badly needed renovating. Gary gave me a reasonable estimate for remodeling, so I decided to go ahead with that. For his usual hourly rate, Gary also went with me to buy the fixtures and tiles.

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