Big Trip Blog 7

Its not an adventure till something goes wrong… Remember that.

Today is/was moving day. I’m posting a photo. We grew in 6 weeks’ time to include, in addition to our luggage, which was way more than our usual, a bag of dirty clothes, a few purchases, and an entire set of food, gizmos, and other accouterment from the kitchen that was to be taken to the kitchen that will be. That was the original plan, too.

So, Lew walked his 10,000 steps to go over to the ghost-Hertz — he seems to be the only person who has found the agency in the last several years. (The office space is closed/chiuso/empty, and there seems to be no business) and I finished packing the last suitcase. We don’t usually travel heavy, but we’d bought pillows, a sweater or two, some pictures, maybe a pair of pants, etc, and then there is the kitchen stuff, technology support equipment, and empty plastic bottles to refill. Not so much, really, but it all grows unchecked, like moss, until 6 weeks later, one has to move it.

When Lew pulled up on time, all was well. We’d cleaned the air BNB, laundered the towels, washed and dried everything – taken out all the trashes (so many different kinds!). We moved the traveling circus to the hallway, staging it so we could then take it in bits to the elevator, go back, take more, repeat until it is all down to the ground floor – repeat to get it all out past the building. At the same time, Lew returned for the final walk-through, with the stuff arranged one piece or two at a time with me again outside near the curb; then, Lew would bring the car around and play Tetris with the little rental car and our stuff. That is plan one.

When he picked up the kitchen bag with the heaviest stuff in it (of course), the floor was wet. He dug out the paper towels to clean, I ran down the hall to help by removing the bag, and to look for the culprit. Nope, not the dreaded olive oil spill, vinegar, or honey. No – it was the maple syrup, small and turned on its side, and from there spread its little nasty sticky self everywhere it could ooze. We now had two hall spots, a stuck bag, several towels involved, and floors to wash and back into the apartment to clean the towels and try to cover the stickiness of the big bag so we could transport it and hope not to mess up the next place. Plastic may be in my brain cells, but I am delighted to have a big bag ready for the trash bin, large enough to cover glue-doom for transport. We did get to our place, and all was well. almost.

The new place was two steps from the parking spot, he said. I will help you move your things, he said. He is the owner, probably, a youngish man who works at a local restaurant. Pleasant guy.

Ummm – the street is no parking, no driving, and a block in from the street when you can find parking, and we now had to restage each phase of getting stuff out, stay with it, bring out more, stay within the doorway, bring over the next bunch of heavy things, then move to the next spot, which was up a flight of stairs with all the circus. Fortunately, directly in the street across from the entrance to our apartment door is a homeless woman with two good teeth, who serenaded us from her bench along with everyone else at her morning spot. She is here mornings. She seems quite nice.

The owner offered to give us a hand bringing our stuff from the car to the new apartment and help us up the stairs, but in a quite Lew-like fashion, Lew declined, saying, “Nope, thanks, I’ll get it.” And he did.

I admire his willingness a lot, and I admire his stubborn insistence to inconvenience no one by accepting help, really, I do. There are times, though, when I think it is no wonder the Israelites spent 40 years wandering in the desert – they probably had no males who would ask for help or directions. Egypt at the time was not a country known for encouraging women’s speech, so, 40 years…

The place is ideally located in a very busy spot in the old medieval center. The price for this fixation of mine on very old buildings is that we have to pay a lot for very little. Chiavari is expensive and a very desirable place for many. This little place is a riot. The silverware is in the hallway next to the kitchen, and the laundry line is broken, so we are now the proud owners of an expandable “stendibiancheria” for drying our clothes inside; when we figure out where we might put it – there is serious little available space. One has to laugh, right? It’s all okay – it’s all of it, nothing to whine about, and it is quite amusing too.

We have a larger refrigerator with a real freezer at this place, although we have no cabinets where we can put food. We’re adopting/adapting/ rearranging and having fun. We are quite modern here in this old building. The oven works, and there is a washer, a dishwasher, and many drawers in the bedroom, which is fortunate because the space available goes to the 10 ft. ceiling and requires a hook to reach the hangers. That, too, is pretty common. There is much to be said for those high ceilings and doors, but… maybe one might also say too much.

I know I’m complaining with a loaf of fabulous Italian bread under each arm, because really all is well, all is wonderful, and we are warm and toasty, having everything we need – and it looks like the internet is solid… Oh YAY!

…sending happy post-valentine’s love to each of you.

Judy and Moses