Cheque mate

It was a bit of a late start today, we were both so tired from the last couple of days that we slept until 8am - Helen even switched off her alarm, which she never does, although it didn't stop her going out into a damp morning to exercise again. (We had more rain overnight - not sure if we'll ever be able to sleep through rain with the noise it makes on our roof window! - and it was still showery this morning.)

 

After breakfast - which included a very welcome coffee from the machine that we've missed so much over the last few weeks - I set about more unpacking whilst Helen went to test drive the new office chair. And that's how the morning went, with nothing worthy of note except that by lunchtime the rain had stopped and it was dry enough and just about warm enough for us to eat outside... Again.

Still in chaos, but we're getting there - SLOWLY!

 

It was a quick lunch though, as Richard had called earlier to say that, following the meeting with Andrea (the geometra) yesterday evening, we needed to go to see Marco, the bank manager, to sign yet another form - and that it had to be done today. Since the bank is only open from 14:50 until 15:50 in the afternoon, we had a small window in which to get this done.

 

After a quick stop off at the communal bins to dump some of our unpacking detritus, we drove into Pescia square and headed for the bank's fingerprint airlock cubicle once more. Once inside, the smiley cashier whose name we've yet to learn gave us a warm 'Ciao!' from behind the counter while he was serving someone - it was very nice to be recognised! We noticed that the entrance to the corridor leading to Marco's office was roped off, so there was nothing else for it than to get into the queue and hope that whoever we spoke to knew something about the paperwork and we wouldn't be left floundering at the desk while everyone overheard our failure to get what we needed.

 

We ended up being served by the same girl as sorted out our Bancomat cards last week, she seemed to recognise us too (guess Brits stand out a little more than the indigenous folk). After delivering my carefully constructed sentence about needing to see Marco to sign some papers, she informed us that Marco wasn't here this week and wouldn't be back until next Tuesday... Result!! No confusion, no squinting from her as she stained her ears and brain to hear and understand us (why do people squint when finding it difficult to hear or understand?). We were very pleased that we'd made ourselves understood and that we'd understood the response - it was a shame we'd failed to sign the document but that was out of our hands and we decided we would email Andrea later to explain that Marco had been unavailable.

 

After mentally chalking that as a victory, I thought I'd attempt to ask for cheque books for our accounts while we were on a roll. Again, there was no confusion, no squinting, we handed over our account details and the bank teller set about getting some crisp new cheque books out of her stash and rubber stamping each page of each one, twice. There is none of the palaver you have back in the UK where you have to order a new cheque book - they simply have a stamp with adjustable digits and they stamp your account number onto each cheque (there are only about a dozen in each book so it wasn't too protracted). While we were waiting for all the stamping to happen, smiley man had to dash across to the stationery cupboard, and as he came past us he told us to go and see Fredo in the office about our paperwork - so it seems like we were going to get our paperwork sorted after all!

 

So after a brief meeting with aforementioned Fredo to sign the paperwork (which took less than 5 minutes) we left, chequebooks in hands, floating on our toes and returning a warm smiley 'ciao' to smiley man on the way out - we had to control the level of flounce somewhat though, as with the glass tube to contend with we couldn't just coolly breeze out of there.

 

 

Rubber-stamped cheque books.

 

Our next stop was a second-hand car garage in Porcari, close to Lucca. I've been emailing this car dealer intermittently for a few days about a car I'd spotted on the internet.

 

For many months before arriving, we thought we might get a pick-up truck as the work horse for our new life: we need something with a minimum of four seats for airport transfers (plus enough space for suitcases), but which can also be used to carry tools and building materials around, and a pick-up truck seemed like a good solution. However, even before arriving in Italy, were already doubting the feasibility of running such a vehicle after speaking to our friend Ben about the running costs of his pick-up.

 

The cost of running a pick-up was going to be an albatross for us, and while surfing the internet I stumbled across another option: while searching for pick-ups I inevitably came across vans ('furgoni') and noticed that there were more than a few cars in amongst them - well, car-derived vans, but also their car equivalents. It seems that, regardless of whether you have a version of the vehicle with windows in the side or not, they are sold as vans purely based on their load capacity. So it was here that I stumbled across dozens of Fiat Doblos. The van form is no good to us as we need more than two front seats, but the car forms have 5 seats and they seem to often be used as working vehicles with the back seats folded down. An ugly vehicle, but a perfectly practicable solution!

 

So having narrowed down our options to two cars, both of which are duel fuel and run primarily on methane (which is about half the price of petrol), we arranged to go and see the nearest to us. We arrived on time and were met by the owner and his colleague who he'd dragged with him to translate as he spoke no English. 

 

We had a good look around the car and it seemed a perfect size, even with a little bit of space taken up in the boot for the methane storage. So the next step was to take it for a test drive - this time with without the translator... GULP!! It wasn't so bad, and I managed to follow the garage owner's directions in Italian, and while at it discuss both the weather (it was pouring with rain by this point) and his upcoming trip to Chicago, all whilst driving a strange car on the wrong side of the road (who said men can't multitask?!).

 

On our return to the office, we discussed road tax and insurance costs and, having decided we like the vehicle enough, asked for their best price. There was no movement on that front - it's one thing making yourself understood, but playing hardball with an Italian used car salesman is a step too far for me. However, he did offer to fully valet the car and throw in a set of summer tyres as a 'present' (the car is currently sporting winter tyres, which are a legal requirement in our area between November and April, but no good in summer), so it was a sweet enough deal for us to declare our interest and we've agreed to be in touch as soon as we have our residency application letter so that they can start the paperwork (did we explain that you  have to have Italian residency - which we can't apply for until we've completed the purchase of the house - before you can buy a car over here?). So, as long as we're not beaten to it, we have secured our new car. We just need to get the old one back to the UK before the end of July now!

 

 

Ugly, but practical - and we're in no position to be picky!

 

After all of that excitement, our evening consisted of a quick trip to the supermarket (once again via the communal bins to dump some more of our unpacking detritus), followed by a pea and mint risotto for dinner with some TV courtesy of iPlayer and our new satellite.

 

Tomorrow we plan to go to the commune office to make an initial enquiry about acquiring residency. From what we've heard (Sue had some tales to tell yesterday), it can be a very long and drawn out process with lots of paperwork and rubber-stamping, so the sooner we can get the ball rolling and find out what documents we need to gather together, the better.