So here I am, sitting in a vacant apartment located above the family’s own. It belongs to them, but it remains empty until family and friends – in search of sun and free accommodation – come to visit. In fact, I have no internet connection. When I turned on my laptop for the first time today, I mechanically clicked on the shining blue internet explorer sign, in anticipation of Google and Facebook. However, I was met with nothing. After the initial second of shock, I pulled myself out of my internet withdrawal induced daze and decided to go back to basics, open a word document and write, so that when the family by a dongle thing I can update my blog.
So I will start from the beginning: the airport. It seems that when you have expectations of excess baggage fines, delayed flights and lost passports, everything goes smoothly. In fact, it’s when you’re certain that your suitcase is way under the weight limit and when you confidently thrust your passport into the triple-zipped-extra-secure pocket of your side bag, that you have to worry. Fortunately, seeing as I was so certain that a catastrophe would befall me, nothing happened, and I breezed through customs and onto my plane without a hitch.
As the plane descended into Ciampino and the runway edged closer and closer towards me, the realisation hit: this is my home for the next two months. Italy. The place I’ve dreamt about and yearned for ever since I first set eyes on her is going to be my home. Excitement, nervousness but most importantly anticipation took over my body and despite the Italian humidity that struck me as I made my way towards customs, none of it felt real.
After collecting my suitcase, I walked nervously through to departures and there waiting for me, was Sergio. He told me that he had left the children at his uncles, because in their excitement about seeing me they had fallen asleep, unable to be woken. So our first stop was Sergio’s uncles where we would pick up Mabel, Sofia, Daniel and Nicholas, before heading towards Circeo and home.
Sergio told me “watch out for Roman drivers, they’re crazy. I’m not joking, they really are” and he was right. The Italian roads are enough to make you want to grip onto your seatbelt and never let go. Coupled with Sergio’s uncle’s consistent pleas for me to ring my mamma and tell her I’m okay, I experienced my first taste of Italian life: bad drivers and hospitality.
Meeting the children again was wonderful. Although they were shy at first and refused to speak English, after enthusiastically reading them a story book they would not leave me alone. Daniel seems to have an unexplained fascination with my hands, and throughout the drive to Circeo, he examined them and stroked them and refused to let go. He is so excitable that sometimes he forgets to speak English and talks incomprehensibly fast in Spanish or Italian, and despite my best efforts I cannot understand him. Sofia on the other hand is calmer, although not by much. In fact, the only time I can get them to sit and be quiet is by reading them a story, in which case they will sit through any number of books and listen intently. Last night, when they refused to go to bed Mabel threatened them by saying “if you don’t do as you’re told Alice will go away”, to which they replied “no, no, no…por favor mama”. And I can’t even tell you how nice that felt – to know that they really do want me with them.
Today we went to the beach. Only in the morning though, in the afternoon it gets so hot that we return home and the kids have a siesta while I’m free to do what I like. The sea was gorgeous and seeing the children swim like fish was amazing; splashing and diving, there really was no stopping them.
So sitting here, on the silent balcony overlooking the garden full of fruit trees, Italy seems good. I know that looking after two children will be tough and living without family and friends will be tougher, however I really do think that I am going to make it, but most importantly, that I am going to enjoy every second of it.
To The Table 