Our break in Bergamo

Planning our recent journey home from Lazio we booked a couple of nights in the small city of Bergamo not so far from Milan. It was not the relaxed tourist trip we’d imagined as my eye was so troublesome but it really is a beautiful place and well worth a visit.

We spent a sunny Saturday wandering up to the Citta Alta the higher walled city which was quite busy.  Lovely old buildings, a maze of narrow streets and beautiful views.

In the afternoon we walked back down to the lower city hoping to get lunch at a restaurant MrFF had spotted.  Sadly, because it was beautifully located in an old building with charming staff, they were fully booked.  However we found a sandwich place with an even higher rating than the restaurant and equally nice staff, we were well fed.

The lower town is also charming, more beautiful buildings, big squares, fountains everything you’d expect including elegantly dressed people.  There was an array of individual little shops,  a flea market and a street of upmarket names.  I did mention that looking in the Max Mara store was taking away some of my pain, I’m sure buying a beautiful coat would have made me feel even better.

It’s a pity I had to spend most of the day with my head down because the sun hurt my eye. MrFF took the photographs which hopefully reflect what a nice place Bergamo is.

My eye

We are back in ilkley after an eventful journey home. Last,Thursday, the day before we left MrFF lit the bonfire in the orchard to burn all our pruning.  We sat out in the balcony for breakfast and my right eye started to feel sore, it  became more and more painful and watery. I tried washing it but that was too stingy.

Next morning with no improvement as we headed to the autostrada we stopped at the pharmacy and the chemist sold me cream which turned out to be anti biotic and steroid. I had to use it 3 times a day, it blurred my vision and made my eye sensitive to the light which according to the instructions was to be expected. So the journey wasn’t pleasant.

We had booked to break the journey with two nights in Bergamo so we could be tourists.  Bergamo is a beautiful little city with a walled medieval centre, I’ll post about it later. Sadly I spent most of my time with my head down avoiding the sun wearing my comfy top and baggy trousers amidst the beautifully dressed Bergamaschi.

In France I emailed my optician asking for an examination as soon as i got back.  They weren’t registered to deal with minor eye conditions but recommended Boots or Specsavers.  Back home I phoned Specsavers early morning, they did a full triage over the phone and gave me an appointment for 2 o clock.  I had extensive tests and a full examination after which the optician said I needed to go immediately to eye emergency at Bradford hospital as I had a deep abrasion on my eye.  Then I felt sick, they made me sweet tea and reassured me. However the optician was unable to get me an emergency appointment, she tried 5 times, got through to the department, heard a recorded message then the line went dead.

So she said I’d have to pitch up and wait, she gave me a referral letter with various reports on my eye and asked me to let her know how I got on.

At the hospital the eye department said I couldn’t be see without an appointment, I politely explained the phone line was cutting out so it was impossible to make one and she said she’d get the triage nurse.  I was offered an appointment for the next day.

Yesterday we went back to Bradford.  Despite the appointment system there was a permanent notice to say it could take 2 hours or more to see the doctor and it did. I could ask why the system isn’t made more efficient if they know it doesn’t work.  Eventually I was called in and given a through examination, the doctor said there was a foreign body embedded in my eye which he would remove with small tweezers.  Actually they were about twice the size of my eyebrow tweezers, I put on a brave face and wished I could close my eyes. The item removed was tiny, just a spec that could have been a piece of eyelash, a tiny seed from the garden or something blown up from the bonfire.   I was given anti biotic cream to use 4 times a day for a week but it’s much kinder than the Italian stuff and it’s clear so it doesn’t blind me for very long.  The doctor said I’d feel sore as the anaesthetic wore off but should be better in a couple of days and start to heal. This morning I feel fine, no pain at all and greatly relieved.

I am so grateful for the swift medical care and kindness I’ve received and overjoyed to be back in the UK.  Hopefully soon I can read my book again, I manage the iPad fine, I can knit and I’m in Ilkley. 

More trouble

Before we left ilkley many weeks ago Mario contacted us as he had signed for two registered letters sent to us by the Comune.  Briefly the 4 pages said there was a planning violation at our house, the original owner and a date of 1985 were mentioned and more importantly a fine totalling over 3,300 euros and various documents were required to regularise things.  It said we had 60 days to respond though later we were told it was really 90, whichever time is almost up.

Obviously the letter didn’t state what exactly the violation was, our minds ran riot, was it the terrace we made in the lower garden, surely we didn’t need permission for that, what if all of the house was built without permission.  Eventually we discovered it was the recently restored balcony and the room below it that were added not long after the house was built.

I’ll try to précis the activities that have occupied most of our time over the last couple of months.  

We wrote 4 times to the Comune trying to clarify things, finally asking for a meeting, there was no response at all.  We tried to arrange a meeting on line, the booking programme didn’t work.  Finally MrFF went to the Comune to be told that although the letter came from them, was signed by Stephano who we know and gave the email address at the Comune that we’d used, they were not dealing with the matter. It was another organisation mentioned in the small print to whom we then sent everything the Comune had already received. No reply to date.

We appointed the Italian lawyer in Scotland who we used to buy the house.  She has basically told us everything we already know and nothing more, we had hoped she’d on be on the phone to Italy all guns blazing particularly as she charges £300 per hour.  This week she wrote to say because she is in Scotland she cannot help us after all and suggested we find a local lawyer, we are wondering if we will get a bill for her non assistance so far.

We tried to appoint the local geometra who worked for the two previous vendors to provide all the plans and technical certificates requested to accompany the fine. MrFF could easily produce these himself but his engineering qualifications are not recognised here.  We have so far waited six weeks for a price for this work, the fees could double the fine we have to pay, it’s beyond a joke.

From our own research we’ve discovered the original owner did apply to regularise the extension in 1985, he paid the comune about 1,000 euros but for some reason left around 750 euros outstanding. This sum plus about 40 years interest and admin fees gives the 3,300 now due.

I am furious.  The Comune have known since 1985 they this situation existed, the property has been sold twice since, 3 times if you count when our vendor bought out his estranged wife.  Each time 2 geometras one for each party and a notary have been paid to check the deeds and documents are in order, yet we are the ones who end up with the fine. 

We’ve contacted our vendor, he said the original owner sorted everything years ago but research shows that days before we bought documents were submitted to the Comune about the extension by our vendor, it seems no money was paid.

The galling thing is that the extension is shown on the documents at the tax office.  We pay tax relative to the size of our property, we pay tax on the illegal extension. How can they recognise and benefit from illegal works and sit back letting the fine mount up.

It’s a complete mess, professionals are at fault but it will cost more than we owe to untangle this, besides why would we employ more of them having been so let down.  We are leaving at the weekend and after almost two months of trying to make progress we are no further forward.  

Here is the offending structure, maybe it will have been demolished by the Comune before we return though on past results that will take another 40 years to organise and we will be long gone

Trouble at Mill once more

Saturday morning MrFF opened the bedroom shutters and announced we would start our olive harvest.  Quick cup of Yorkshire tea with a bowl of muesli and we were picking by 8.30 am.  We stopped mid morning for cappuccini and croissant then worked on till 6.30 pm,  we had more than 80 kilos with 10 more trees still to pick so that was great.  Sunday we had the same early start with rather less enthusiasm as we were quite tired from the previous days efforts.

We finished early afternoon, tidied up, had some lunch then MrFF packed the crates of olives into the car and went off to the mill.  Unfortunately so did many others and he was queued for a good two hours before he could unload.  He phoned to let me know he was waiting then started shouting and sounding the car horn as an Italian with a trailer full of olives had jumped the queue when MrFF was slow to move.  Then I heard an Italian voice and suggested he phone me back when he’d sorted the situation.  He got his place back, it was fine. Tranquillo.

 

He weighed in 119 kilos of olives, not a bad result and the mill would phone us when the oil was ready.

Late Monday afternoon we got the call collect our oil at 7.30 pm.  We were there on time and waited until 8.50.  We received 15.3 litres of oil which we were told by other customers was very good quality, it was clean without the foamy scum and dark green. But last year we picked around 80 kg and received 15 litres, it doesn’t make sense to produce so much more and receive the same amount of oil. Even the taste of our delicious new oil didn’t take away our disappointment and confusion.  

Of course 15 litres of oil is more than enough for our needs, if we had more we’d give it away or use it for cooking as it got older, it doesn’t matter that we don’t have more. But we had expectations that we’d done well, we’d worked hard and spent a lot of hours waiting at mill.  Tomorrow it’s my birthday and I’ll be 75, I could say I’m getting too old for this oil business but our lovely 92 year old neighbour Giovanni is here picking so I guess I have no excuse but to keep on and since he’s working on his own and has 200 trees, we have 30, we will probably offer his some help if he doesn’t think we might jinx his harvest too.

My kind of autumn

Until a few days ago temperatures were still in the mid 20s and skies were blue.  Then we had a much needed day of rain.  Now we are in the mid teens, it’s still lovely sunny flip flop weather but a short sleeved t shirt is required rather than a strapy vest.  I’ve worked a lot in the garden, I am happy with how it looks after being neglected all summer.

It’s almost olive time, mills in the valley have opened for business but so far we haven’t heard any pickers around us.  As the fruit turns black it becomes much more apparent what sort of crop we have, I’d say not great but not too bad this year, time will tell.

Happy days of calm, filthy feet and knitting, yes I am going to wash them now.

An orange is the only fruit

When we bought this house 20 years ago the garden wasn’t great and of course I had no idea what plants there were.  I’ve nurtured them all with compost from the heap we started, occasionally organic fertiliser and no chemicals at all.  

In particular outside the kitchen door, in an area where I now grow herbs, there was a stick about 12” high with few leaves, I initially thought it might be a bay.  Over the years as it improved I realised it was a citrus, I assumed a lemon.  It grew tall, it’s now about 8 feet high, healthy if not well shaped and I’ve never seen it flower.  I often empty the teapot onto its roots, Yorkshire tea must work wonders because when we returned this time I spotted a small fruit and it’s an orange.  Makes we so happy even though I won’t be here to see it ripen.

Amazingly two courgette plants survived our summer absence and are flowering and cropping.   We have our own (limited) fruit and veg once again.

My cat nurturing abilities however have failed, after 2 weeks there is still no sign of Enrico.  Giovanni said the day before we arrived Enrico was at his house, I wish he’d come home.   

An uphill race that was all down hill

When I first saw this poster for a cycling time trial to the top of our mountain I was so excited thinking one of my favourite riders Vincenzo Nibali, an excellent climber,  was going to be present. Closer examination clarified that the route of the race was one of his training routes.  Since Vincenzo is Sicilian and also has a home in Lugano I imagine he hasn’t climbed Monte Scalambra that often though his wife is from a village not so far from here,  maybe he does wizz to the top when visiting the in laws, I’ll keep my eyes open.

Here is the race profile for anyone who is as enthusiastic about these things as me 

Monte Scalambra from La Forma is a climb in the region Lazio. It is 11.2km long and bridges 893 vertical meters with an average gradient of 7.9%, resulting in a difficulty score of 795. The top of the ascent is located at 1374 meters above sea level

We decided to support the event even without celebrities and Saturday afternoon wandered down to the village to be in place for the 2 pm start.  Oddly there was no one else in the street, we chose a position where the road forked between the village centre and the climb out and up.  After a while the first motorbike arrived, actually a scooter, with a red flag attached to the rear.  The driver stopped to ask us which way to go.  

The riders as in the major tours were set off at intervals, some with a scooter accompanying them some not.   Most of them asked us for directions, clearly the A4 size direction posters were not apparent or well located. We decided to take charge, MrFF who deserved a high viz jacket stood blocking the route into the village centre and pointing the right way while I provided the applause with shouts of bravo and allez allez allez.  The riders were so appreciative, I didn’t want them to waste their breath shouting grazie but they did.

The roads weren’t closed for the race, it was worrying when an elderly couple drove up and started manoeuvring their car into a parking space outside the minimarket, again MrFF took control.  It was even more worrying when the race director, he had an A4 sheet of paper stuck in the back window of his car confirming who he was and was wearing a suitably sporty t shirt.  We assumed he knew the route, it was a choice of two and he was supposedly the man in charge. First he tried to drive into the village centre then came back to ask us the way.  I felt real despair.  He decided to park outside the minimarket then to reverse out again just as a rider was passing, I think he understood our shouts of stop and I hope he realised from our scowls that we thought he was useless.

Another spectator arrived, increasing the crowd by 50% but only to tell us all the riders had passed, so that was it.  I am sure the guys got a good ride out but really it was a disgrace of the usual standard. 

There was very little reporting, just a few badly taken photographs on the village Facebook page, mostly of local dignitaries and the village beauty queen.  I have no idea who won or in what time, I expect because of the staggered start the man with the watch is having difficulty with the calculations.  It was all so very Italian.