Italian Adventures Part l - how I ended up with a 15th century (fixer-upper) apartment in the mountains in northern Tuscany...

The romance, the expectation, the shock, the drama, the overhaul. The whole story (well most of it anyway).

Fivizzano, Tuscany

I am still in Italy as I’m writing this (I am staying in our place in Northern Tuscany, and will finish it in a place we’re renting for a week in Southern Tuscany). We usually come to Italy for most of/the whole of August. Tom works in education (he doesn't get the whole summer off like teachers, but it’s always his quietest time), and I make the compromise of coming away for longer, but accepting that I will work approximately two days a week, plus some evenings. I have tried various combinations to make this work (coming for less time, working less when I’m here…), and although none are ideal, I have come to the conclusion that I am incredibly lucky to be able to take such a long summer holiday, so if the compromise it having to work while I’m here with my family, then that’s ok. I also usually fly out a week later than Tom and the kids, to bank as much work as possible while the house is quiet and I only have to look after myself (it never ceases to amaze me how productive I can be when I’m living alone, and eating cereal for dinner). Then Tom and the kids get to go feral for a week, without me nagging them to make beds, pick up clothes off the floor, wear factor 50 at all times, and no crop tops with teeny-tiny shorts (Tom).
So I am here, at the table, next to a huge window (with brand new green shutters, slowly rotting frames, with peeling white paint, which don’t bother me one bit - they just add to the charm), with a gentle breeze, and the reassuring hum of the weekly market as my (background) soundtrack. It’s 100% authentic Italian, and I love it. It quietens the noise in my head. From the two front bedrooms, the windows directly overlook the town square (complete with 17th century fountain, church (with VERY loud bells tolling on the hour and half hour - you never need a watch here), café/gelateria, restaurant (with the slowest service in the world - the record I think was two hours for our food, but we still go), a bar, and various other little local shops. All in faded colours. And a view of the (Apennine) mountains behind. All pretty idyllic it has to be said. It feels like time just slows right down here, in all the best ways.

Anyway, where was I? I’ve lost my train of thought… I now have series three of The O.C as my background soundtrack (courtesy of my daughter, Tabitha). Less authentic. Oh yes, so we come here every summer (for obvious reasons, and of course one being the fact that we can afford to have a long holiday because we don’t have accommodation to pay for). I get SO many messages on Insta when I’m here, asking for more details about where we’re staying, and all the things we do while we’re here. It’s certainly not for everyone, but it’s definitely a pretty unique, lo-fi holiday. I try and answer as many as I can, but (the one-size-fits-all model) on Insta isn’t really ideal for deep dive sharing (I’m also not that comfortable sharing a lot of detail about my life over there) - this feels like the perfect place. And one question I get asked the most (and from people outside of Insta too) is how we came to own a property here in the first place. Good question.