Epic...

Apologies to anyone who was looking forward to our blog post yesterday - but better late than never, as they say. As the title suggests, this is going to be one of epic length.

After a thoroughly enjoyable weekend, we woke on Monday morning to face our appointment at the anagrafe (the immigration office). On our first attempt to enquire about acquiring residency many (many) weeks ago, we were given very short shrift by the grumpiest of fast-talking Italians we had yet met, but we did manage to acquire a list of requirements that we would need to have in place in order to acquire our residency.

The list covered an A4 page, and there subsequently followed hours and HOURS of translating with Google, as well as internet searches and trawling through expat forums before we finally compiled a comprehensive list of what we understood was required for us to get our residency. The more we looked into it, the more vague the comune's list seemed to become (we eventually realised that the list is, after all, a catch-all for all nationalities). For instance, it didn't mention that, as British citizens with fully paid up-to-date National Insurance contributions, we are entitled (with an 'S1' form) to full health care in Italy. We therefore concluded that we didn't, in fact, need a private medical insurance policy covering us each for a minimum of €30,000 (which was one of the requirements on the comune's list). However, this still left a very wide gap for any grumpy pedant in the comune office to cause us all sorts of issues if he/she insisted that we followed the list to the letter.

Several weeks ago we spent €30 mailing a set of signed forms back to the UK while Helen's parents went to the effort and expense of ordering a new copy of her birth certificate in Bristol, and then sending the certificate, with the forms, off to be legally verified ('apostilled'). The process was completed surprisingly quickly, but was not without expense, and still delayed us by a week or so. I then spent a good few hours translating Helen's birth certificate, my birth certificate and Helen's freelance contract (with the help of the internet) into Italian and printing out copies of all of them.

So, with all of this done, and photocopies of everything - work contracts, passports, driving licences, car documents, codice fiscali, Helen's work invoices, registrations for Italian income tax and social security, marriage certificate (the list goes on...), we felt sufficiently well prepared to give the process a go and see what happened.

We booked our appointment a few weeks ago - shortly after sending off our application for our S1 forms - and I had emailed Richard immediately after making the appointment to ask if he would be able to come along with us to act as a translator. We knew we would be way out of our depth as far as our Italian went, and if we were unlucky enough to have the grumpy guy deal with us we would likely be dead in the water before we'd even opened our groaning foolscap folder.

As yesterday dawned, we still had no S1 forms from the UK, but we met Richard for coffee in the square at 9am, then headed over to the anagrafe at 9.30. I had butterflies in the pit of my stomach - it's the first thing that has caused me real concern since getting here. We have put so much time and effort into sorting this out, and so much depends on it (access to medical care, much cheaper utility bills, having car insurance and being able to legally own the car to mention a few) that if this were to go horribly wrong in the next hour it would leave in its wake days and days of stress and paperwork, not to mention more expense.

It was empty in the comune office again, and the only guy behind the glass screen was Mr Grumpy from our first experience here. My heart sank, but when he saw Richard and seemed to recognise him, he almost managed something resembling a smile After acknowledging our appointment, he spent the next 10 or 15 minutes ignoring us while doing an excellent impression of someone rushed off his feet - answering phones, ignoring phones, using the photocopier, his PC and generally giving the impression of being an Italian Basil Fawlty.

We were eventually called through into the offices behind the glass screen for our appointment with a lady by the name of Gioia, not Mr Grumpy at all! This seemed like a good start - we didn't know this lady at all, but she would have be pretty unpleasant to be worse than Mr Grumpy.

We sat down and got straight into it. It was all a bit chaotic, with Richard and Gioia talking back and forth and Richard asking us occasionally for bits and pieces of paperwork. Helen understood much more of what was being said than me, as is the way. I felt like a bit of a rabbit in the headlights for a few minutes, but my ears pricked up when I heard the mention of €30,000: that could only mean that she was asking for the private medical insurance policy that we hadn't got (and believed we didn't need).

A lot more discussion ensued, and the issue of the medical policy seemed to be parked for now, while I was asked to produce our marriage certificate. Gioia seemed very pleased to see that the marriage certificate was a bona fide Italian certificate, issued in Siena. This seemed to stand us in good stead and I'm sure it improved her mood a little. Things continued like this for about half an hour, with me slowly emptying my folder of documents and photocopies onto her desk at her request. She spread them haphazardly around and mixed them up, took copies of bits, returned bits, misplaced bits, punched at her computer, shuffled everything and intermittently talked at us. Then it seemed she needed the contract from the purchase of our house. There had been absolutely no mention of this on the list of requirements, and of course we still haven't received it from the geometra - who is on holiday until next week. This was our first stumbling block, but we knew that we should be able to fix it soon - we would go and see Andrea next week and ask him for the contract - so while it meant we wouldn't be able to leave today with our application receipt, we could come back next week. We then heard the compremesso being mentioned - the contract we signed in January when we paid the deposit for the house - Gioia said that would be fine instead of the full contract. Of course, that was virtually the only piece of paperwork left in our filing cabinet at home that we hadn't taken out to bring with us to the meeting, but would could at least go and get it and bring it to her sooner than we would be able to produce the full contract. Next, she turned her attention to Helen's bank statement from Banca di Pescia, which was from the end of June (the most recent one we had). She said she would need a more up-to-date one to prove that there was a certain amount of money in the bank to cover us. With the bank only five doors away from the comune office, though, it would be a simple and quick fix for us to pop in and ask for a printout that we could then bring back.

Gioia then turned back to the issue of the private medical policy. The chat went back and forth a bit until Richard asked if we had our EHIC cards (formerly the E111 forms), which are provided in the UK for people travelling to Europe to cover British citizens in case of emergency. (If you present this card, the local authorities can effectively send a bill back to the UK government for any emergency medical costs incurred.) However, these cards live in a document wallet at the house. They were another of the few pieces of documentation that I hadn't brought with me. All my internet research had suggested that these cards are for emergency cover only, and that what we needed for general healthcare were our S1 forms, which we hadn't received yet, so I had seen no point in bringing the EHIC cards. Anyway, despite knowing exactly where these cards were, I desperately rifled through my wallet - only to find that I had mine with me! It was like some magic trick where someone had put something into my pocket without me knowing! (I later realised that I had put it in my wallet a few weeks ago when I had gone out on my hunt for Thyroxine tablets).

I handed the card to Gioia and she said 'PERFETTO' (she didn't shout, of course, but it sounded as if it was in capitals to me)!! We didn't have Helen's card with us - that one really was back at the house - but we could pick it up together with the compromesso, so it was no big deal. In that instant, it seemed we had got around this complicated and potentially costly healthcare obstacle, as well as avoided being turned away for not having our S1 forms to show. Gioia spun back around to her computer for more keyboard bashing. Richard gave us a look as if to stay 'that was too easy but it seems we've sorted it'.

A few minutes later, Gioia retrieved some pages from the printer, which formed a declaration for Helen to sign that said Helen was head of the household (tell me something I didn't know), and that should anything happen I was her responsibility and not the state's. Basically, there are two ways of registering as a resident: you can register as an employed person, for which you need to show proof of employment or proof of being registered for tax and national insurance, or you can register as someone who is not working, in which case you have to register as unemployed with the job centre (l'impiego) and be available for work and interviews etc. Since Helen could show her work contract, as well as her tax and national insurance registrations, she was all set to be registered as an employed person. And since she was thus able to demonstrate an income of more that €5,800 per annum, and we had the required amount of money in the bank to prove we wouldn't immediately be a burden on the state, she was able to sign the form meaning that the Italian state didn't need to worry about me...

Declaration signed, Gioia gave us a scribbled note saying that all she needed was the compromesso, Helen's EHIC card and an up-to-date bank statement, and that once she had those she would approve our application! We could hardly believe it, we were only a short step from having our application approved. I think we both felt quite giddy.

We went for another coffee with Richard before parting company. We then dashed into the bank, got a printout of Helen's bank statement and sped home - we wanted to get everything back to Gioia before she had time to change her mind or realise she had forgotten something. Once home, we pulled out the documents and did an about turn straight back into town. So, compremesso, bank statement and EHIC card in hand, we went back to the anagrafe. We waited in a small queue to speak to Mr. Grumpy and asked him if we could speak to Gioia. I don't know whether his icy exterior had cracked because I made a plausible effort at Italian, or whether it was because he knew we knew Richard, or whether he was just having a good day, but either way, he cracked a small joke at our English expense and managed a small smile, then waved us through to the offices.

Gioia took copies of the EHIC card and bank statement, and thumbed through the compremesso trying to identify which parcel of land we had bought and on what land registry map it was, before smiling and telling us that was it! She handed us our receipt to say that our application was in process and it would take a maximum of 45 days! The next part of the process will be a visit at our house from the police (roughly in the next 15 days) to ensure that we live where we said we live, then the police will notify the comune that all is in order, the comune will post us a letter, and once we have received that letter, we can go back to the anagrafe (with three passport photos each) to collect our ID cards! I couldn't quite believe that it had gone so smoothly, and the butterflies and knot in my stomach knot instantly disappeared,. To Helen's horror though, rather than get up to leave, I started to ask Gioia if she wanted to see our birth certificates - I was quite put out that she hadn't asked to see them after all the effort on Helen's parents' part in acquiring hers, not to mention the cost and delay in waiting for it and the hours I'd spent translating the flippin' things. So she looked expectantly at the folder while I clumsily thumbed through the papers. When I couldn't instantly find them I looked up at her and she had already got bored and told me not to bother and waved us out.

So that's it! Over all bar the shouting, Helen won't count her chickens until we have the ID cards, but I know the rest is a formality.

It was now nearly noon, so we went home for lunch and I decided it was an altogether appropriate action to open a bottle of prosecco to celebrate, so we had a pleasant hour on the patio sitting in the sun - with the morning's oppression long behind us we could look ahead to more exciting tasks.

First of which of course, is geese!

So after coffee, we cleared up and headed out to (any guesses?) Montecatini Terme. While we were waiting to be seen at the comune office, we had mentioned our plan for geese to Richard, who had suggested a place where we could buy cheap, unmachined chestnut fence posts. We headed there, and found the place straight away but it was closed (of course!). There was a sign on the door saying 'back soon', so I decided in the meantime to try and find a car spares shop not far away. 

The chances of us finding said car spares shop were stacked against us - I had only seen its location on Google Maps, was working from memory and... it was in Montecatini Terme, which is a location we don't have the best of records with when it comes to finding places! I was thrilled, therefore to find the shop, AND it was open. It was a real Aladdin's cave for the car enthusiast, and were soon greeted by the owner, Erico, who has now taken the medal for the friendliest and smiliest Italian we have met.

I wanted to buy the whole shop from him, he was brilliant. However, we started with a roof rack. While we have acres and acres of boot space in the no. 182 bus, we are wasting a whole load of useful space on the roof - not that we have needed it yet, but I'm sure a time will come when we do. I dragged Erico out to see the car and he offered us two options. I then asked him for some form of emergency starting device - like the one we had in the boot that belongs to Chris and Sue. I figured that with only one vehicle and being alone on our hill, if the battery issue caused a problem again, we could at least get the the car started and make it to a mechanic.

He offered me a smaller battery pack type that you keep charged that also has an air compressor for inflating tyres, perfect!

Waiting for Erico to finish fitting the roof bars.

Erico then spent the next 15 minutes fitting the roof rack for us - during which time I found a couple more items to buy, including snow chains (which are a legal requirement around here between mid-November and mid-April). We (I say 'we', but I think enjoyed it much more than Helen) had a thoroughly enjoyable half hour engaging with Erico, and I left in a great mood feeling like the day just couldn't get any better.

We then returned to the wood yard to find the gates open, and spent five minutes with the owner's son trying to decide how many fence posts of what size we needed. The fence posts were 2.5m long, and we needed 25 of them - he tried to fit one into the car, but it was too much even for the 182 bus to cope with. He looked at the roof rack and asked if we could put them on there, but I explained I had nothing to tie them on with (hoping he would offer some rope, but none was forthcoming), so we left saying that I would return tomorrow with straps.

Wood yard.

By this time it was just after 4pm, and Helen had arranged to go for coffee with Sue at half past. I'd planned to deliver Helen to Sue and Chris's, and return their car starter at the same time, then head home to do some jobs until Helen phoned to say when she needed collecting. We arrived at Chris and Sue's, I trundled the car starter up the hill to their house, went in to greet everyone... and then got chatting to Chris.

The girls soon left for town, so Chris and I had a coffee on their patio and talked solar power, chainsaws, strimmers, wood cutting, UV water purifiers, geese, chickens and bees, amongst other stuff. Before we knew it, it was 7pm and the girls were walking back up the path! It wasn't long before coffee cups were swapped for glasses of wine, and the four of us sat on the patio as the light faded.

What a perfect day! We would have loved to have stayed longer, but as darkness was falling we decided we ought to go home to get the cats safely inside. We couldn't quite believe that when we walked in the house was after 9pm. We cooked up a quick plate of pasta with pesto, and rather than start what was going to be this EPIC blog post, we slumped in front of the TV to watch an episode of Inspector Montalbano and work on our Italian.