Buying a car in Italy

It is done.  We now have a car.  It is as convoluted as a Medici story of intrigue and sleight of hand.  I will not bore you with the details, but after waiting 2 weeks for a car we thought we had already bought, the car is now in our possession. Notice I have not said that we own the car.  It's complicated.  In order to buy a used car in Italy, you must indeed be a resident of Italy, which we are not. To buy a new car, the requirements are different and there are many opinions as to whether or not you need to be a resident to buy a new one. You do not need to be a a resident to buy a house, or open a bank account.  Why do you have to be a resident to buy a car?  It's another one of those Italian "why" questions that only gets a shrug of the shoulders.  If pushed the Italians will always say it is a law to keep the mafia under control.  But gangsters only buy cars not houses?  Being American, and not an EU citizen further complicates things. The Stoic One is great in these situations, he is focused on the ultimate goal and does not get side-tracked by all of the discussions of various methods...mainly because he doesn't understand the conversations.  Whatever.  He is persistent and focused while I get indignant and impatient.  It is a good combination for stressing everyone out and then they need to go for coffee and a cigarette to calm things down.    


About the car.  It is, as the Italians say, bello ma grande.  Beautiful but large.  It is a Nissan Pathfinder big enough for a small regiment to fit into.  The Stoic one thought we needed space for luggage and visitors.  He did not want to squish us all into a Fiat Panda which is the car of choice here.  I am sure all of our future guests, mainly my sister, will be happy to learn they no longer have to come with carry on luggage only.  This is big enough even for Sarah's shoes!

The Beast

We had a huge thunder and lightening storm the other night and it woke us all up.  I thought the lightening hit the ground somewhere.  It actually hit the spire of the church and knocked off a few roof tiles.  Mani got called by the commune to see if the steeple were safe for people to walk around.  He climbed up on top of the roof, and said yes it was safe, but the lightening went down the iron into the steeple and pulverized the stone next to it.  I was telling my Italian teacher, who is from Ravenna, this story and she said this was ridiculous that the town did not have a lightening rod tower outside of town for lightening.  She said, "What are you living in a town from the Middle Ages ?"  I said, "Hello.  Where do you think I live?"  Quite frankly that time period  had some pretty good things going, except for the bathroom issues which are too disgusting to write about.

 I do love this slower pace. It is maddening at first, but as my body and mind are adjusting,  and I feel a deep sense of calm that usually comes after meditation.  Welcome to my town and to the Middle Ages.

Our new river walkway

The river is on the left