Best anniversary ever?!

{WARNING: THIS BLOG POST IS LENGTHY!!}

There... you have been warned, so go and get a cup of tea and make yourself comfortable, because this one's a biggie.

It was the 6th of the 6th yesterday: our second wedding anniversary already. We've been so busy over the last few years, what with planning the wedding, planning (and doing) the big bike ride, then planning and preparing for the move over here, that we have no idea where the time has gone.

We agreed last week that buying each other anniversary cards and presents would be silly this year - we have one car and we spend almost every waking minute together, so being able to covertly acquire such a simple thing as a card was not going to happen. Instead, we agreed that we would treat ourselves to a day off together and spend some quality time with each other.

Of course, that could only happen AFTER we had been to the notary and finally completed the purchase of the house! The meeting with the notary was set for 11:30am.

We later learned that the notary (who deals only with house sale/purchases and rentals) is so busy that it had taken two weeks for us to get our appointment. Notaries are appointed for a local area - the one we went to see was in Borgo a Buggiano, about 5km from Pescia. We also learned that being a notary is a very lucrative way to spend your time and that it's a position for life that is fought over fiercely when any such position becomes vacant (strange being a 'state' job).

But, as always, I'm getting sidetracked, and this blog post is going to be long enough already, so let's get back on track.

With the day being a 'non-work' day, we slept in until around 8am. Helen headed straight out with her kettlebells and exercise mat, and I decided I would finally build my turbo trainer (a Christmas present from Helen last year). This took a while longer than I had anticipated, and I soon realised that my exercise window had firmly shut by the time I'd finished, so instead, I fitted my new speed and cadence sensor to my bike - nothing like a new toy for added motivation, can't wait to get back out on my bike Monday!

Not quite my usual cycling gear.

Helen, meanwhile, had finished with her kettlebells and moved onto taking the lawnmower for a test drive. The verdict was a big thumbs up, and we now had a very neatly trimmed lawn.

It works!

Just look at that neat and tidy lawn...

Time was ticking on by this point - we'd arranged to meet Richard at Andrea's (the geometra's) office at 11am to give us time to go for a coffee before the meeting, so we packed up and headed indoors for showers and to gather our paperwork together.

We headed out into a baking hot morning, and found Richard in Andrea's office along with Michelle (a Liverpudlian lady who lives in Vellano, who had been left with power of attorney for the previous owners). After brief 'hello's, we all piled into Andrea's car for the short trip to Borgo a Buggiano, halfway between Pescia and Monticatini Terme.

Andrea dropped us off in the square and went to park the car while the rest of us headed for a coffee shop. A quick cappuccino later, we headed across the street to the notaio's office where we met Andrea. We handed over our Codice Fiscales (these are basically cards, the size and shape of a credit card, that carry a unique code, not dissimilar to the tax reference you have in the UK - you can't buy much of any significance here without one) and our passports (everyone needs copies of passports here - even when you check into a hotel or buy a car), and after only a short wait, we headed into the notaio's office, pretty much on time.

So there we were: two Italians, a Brummie, a Bristolian, a Liverpudlian and a Yorkshireman.

The notaio introduced himself (Alberto Carapelle), and immediately seemed to live up to his billing as a very nice man - a warm smile can say a lot about a person, and we immediately felt at ease.

The plan was for the notaio to read out the contract of sale from his PC screen while Andrea followed along with his own notes, interjecting to correct the notaio when needed. After that, the mortgage agreement would be read out in the same manner.

So off the notaio went at a right canter - Richard had told us he was a fast reader and he was not wrong! We soon realised that trying to follow along was futile. I remember thinking that even with Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, Mary Poppins had NOTHING on Alberto, whose speed of reading made it seem as if he was saying one enormously long word, with barely a breath taken. Our ears pricked up after a while when we heard our names and places of birth (I was apparently born in 'Beeeer-mingham', although I'm sure it doesn't say that on my birth certificate).

From time to time, Richard was brought into proceedings to translate things. We had imagined every word having to translated, verbatim, so it turned out to be much less tedious than we had been expecting.

The whole affair was quite jovial and good fun, and even when the woman from the bank arrived with the piles of mortgage paperwork (evening up the Italian to Brit ratio), it was still an informal affair with much joking and laughing at various points.

I was amused by the Italians' struggle with British bank details. Since we were purchasing the house from a British couple, we had made both the deposit payment and the second payment to them in sterling, with the final balance (which the mortgage covers) going to them in euros. This in itself caused much confusion, but not as much confusion as the fact that the deposit and the second payment had been made from two different bank accounts and to two different bank accounts. They needed to record full details of each of the bank payments, including the bank addresses, so the fact that postcodes looked so different from Italian ones, and that nobody (except the Brits of course) had heard of 'Coventry' meant that there was much head scratching... it amused me greatly how simple things can become difficult, and that for the briefest of moments, the tables had been turned.

And so it went, for two hours solid - not that it felt that long to us, although Helen later told me she had spent the whole time worrying that Alberto had all that reading to do and didn't even have a glass of water.

Anyway, suffice to say that we now officially own the house, and the whole morning's proceedings were very much pain-free, bar a dose of writer's cramp from all the signatures that were required! As an added bonus, we ended up saving a not inconsiderable sum on what we had been expecting to pay in terms of taxes, fees, etc. - this was largely thanks to Alberto and the way he represented the house/land value (too complicated to explain here - and I think I'm already in danger of losing your attention...).

We got back to Pescia a little before 2pm, and after popping into Andrea's office to pay his fees and discuss the transfer of utilities to our name, the four of us decided that lunch was in order. Mimmo (Michelle's husband) had just arrived, so the five of us headed out of town to one of the many roadside restaurants offering 'pranzo di lavoro' (workers' lunch).

A pranzo di lavoro is a set menu affair that is usually very reasonably priced and consists of two courses with a small selection of dishes to choose from for each (the options are read out in front of you, there's no menu to read). In this case there were around 4-5 pasta dishes to choose from, followed by 4-5 main courses. Helen opted for a vegetable pasta, while I had pasta with ragu, then we both had scallopine with a Gorgonzola sauce and a side salad. Delicious.

The whole lunch experience was very enjoyable - conversation flowed in a combination of Italian and English (Mimmo is Italian), which was great for us. Mimmo spoke nice and slowly to aid our comprehension, and we learnt quite a lot more about the area, people, wine, and beaches to head for, amongst other things (as well as being given some tips and pointers on managing our land from Michelle).

Mimmo, by the way, owns and runs a food wagon from which he mainly sells porchetta (roast pulled pork) and spicy Calabrian sausage sandwiches (he comes from Calabria in the south of Italy). I was lucky enough to sample some of his delicious food when I was over here doing a week's plastering with Richard in March. Helen still has that treat to look forward to!

Mimmo IS the boss of panini!

As lunch drew to a close, Helen and I decided to pick up the tab to show our appreciation of the help and warm reception we'd received from our new friends - Michelle had given up her morning for our cause (not at our request, of course, but still, she'd been left holding the baby so to speak), Richard was there in a paid translator capacity, but with his help and contacts we'd saved thousands.

So we stumped up the €65 euros for lunch... YES, €65 euros for a two-course lunch for FIVE people including several bottles of mineral water, two bottles of beer and five coffees. Amazing value. Nothing fancy, you understand, but very delicious, very good cooking with good local, seasonal ingredients.

As we said our goodbyes to Michelle and Mimmo, I found myself in the midst of my first man kiss (Mimmo was on me before I knew what was happening) - I guess I have to start getting used to that!! We managed to offload the pile of 'stuff' that the previous house owners had left behind for Michelle - we couldn't quite read her expression, but I think she was as bemused as we were by the random selection of items they had set aside for her (which included half-used jars of spices, some half-used cleaning products, some tea bags, a dusty and greasy halogen cooker, and a few items they wanted her to store for them).

We dropped Richard back to his car where he refused to take any money from us for his services (he'll be getting some whether he likes it or not) and then headed out to tick off two more jobs before we could go HOME!

Our first stop was MercaTutto, the Albanians' second-hand furniture shop. It turns out it's a bit of a treasure trove inside - while there's a fair bit of tat in there, there are some really nice pieces of solid furniture and some interesting items including old gramophone players and even a selection of vintage wines, complete with dust. Flamur (the guy in charge) needed my passport details to enter me onto the computer system, as well as a couple of signatures on a contract confirming what he will pay us for each item. If/when he sells the furniture we have given him, he will split the proceeds 50/50 with us. I was a little nervous about handing over my passport (although we're kind of getting used to having to do that), but we'd been assured by Michelle that they were nice guys. Seems we could be in line for €100 euros next month - which would cover what we gave them to dispose of our enormous pile of rubbish, so all good on that score.

Finally, it was back to the car dealer in Porcari. After realising that acquiring residency was going to take a little while longer than planned, we had contacted the car dealer to ask whether it would be possible for us to reserve the car with a deposit. They were happy to do so for a €500 payment, so off we went in the baking heat to do just that. More passport photocopies and half a dozen more signatures later, we left with a copy of the contract and promised to return in the next few weeks with our Italian I.D. cards (when we get them) to finish the paperwork, pay the balance and take ownership of the methane-powered 'bus'/'postman pat van'.

We FINALLY headed for home sometime after 5pm. I've no idea what happened to our anniversary, but it was certainly memorable, and one we won't forget in a hurry - and for all the right reasons too!

We sat on the patio for a couple of hours or so, feeling unexpectedly excited about the fact that we now own the house. Neither of us had anticipated feeling so excited - after all, we have been living in the house for nearly a month - but there was obviously some part of each of us, on a subconscious level, that was holding back, knowing all along that the house wasn't really ours. There was also always the niggling worry that if the previous owners had for some reason pulled out, we'd need to explain where their furniture was, and with every day's hard graft improving the place, I was wondering for whose benefit I was doing it! Now all of those niggles and concerns have been put to rest and we can happily throw ourselves full pelt into improving and enjoying our property (well, ours and the bank's).

So, we ended our anniversary day with a couple of bottles of fairly low ABV bubbly in the very warm evening air. What an amazing day, and what a lucky guy I am!

A buzzard enjoying the evening's sunshine with us.