Over the past few days, we put a contract hold on a house (more on that later) - rather an apartment anywho, and we are hopeful that it will stick. We visited our friends Jackie (you may remember, the one who rescued us from the airport), and his wife T, in Martina Franca. And we moved over to a beach town into temporary housing not affiliated with the US Government. So life is tutto bene for the momento.
Here is a pic of the pool at the new place...
And the beer festival & concert that is about to gear up down the street...
And the mouth watering market we passed on the way to dinner...
Where we bought a bottle of wine for 2 euro.
And pizza from tonight's dinner...
Ok, so... here are the details of "how we upgraded".
When last we met, the Major and I were debating Vomero v.s. Pozzuoli. I think that was on Thursday. We headed out that night, to walk around Vomero, get something to eat, get a feel for the area...
Two small but significant wrong turns later (and we were using a GPS mind you), we arrived in Vomero much later than anticipated, and it was pure unbridled chaos. A maze of confounding one way streets, traffic zooming, pedestrians jumping out into traffic, strollers rolling, skyscraping apartment buildings - and the motos!... I was getting majorly claustrophobic. Not what I imagined life in Italy to be.
I reached for the ejection lever - can't we just 'ahem' scoot over to Pozzuoli perhaps? Would that be more manageable?
In fact, yes, we can mosey over to Pozzuoli, where we indeed find a parking spot, and manage to get the stroller out of the car without being swiped by a moped - even though the cobblestone streets are barely under shaken baby syndrome level (mental pat on the back for leaving most of my cutest heels back in storage). We push on (literally) to a marina area, circle a couple of times (as couples do when they debate the merits of a tourist-trappy looking eaterie v.s. somthing "a bit more authentic").
We finally find a little family joint with a price-fixed menu. Excellent seafood dishes, even though the meal lasted through at least a couple of the Smalls' naps. She was an amazing trouper (insert sigh of relief and mental high five with Major D for what *must* be excellent parenting).
Pozzuoli is... well... it's an old city next to (and connected to) a very urban city. There is sand and sea, and a whole lot of history (lots of ruins) mixed with enough shops and markets to make one think you can get almost anything you want - perhaps. It's neat, and kinda mysterious. We have an appointment with a realtor who will take us to Pozzuoli Friday morning - so we drag ourselves back to the Support Site (ironically SS for short) for the night - where Major gets surprised breathalized before we can enter the gates. Joy.
Friday we see several villas in the Pozzuoli area - each of them lovely and individually charming, but our goal is immersion in the Italian culture, so a large lovely home in the middle of a parco where I can stay isolated with Smalls is probably not the best choice. Something closer to a walking area might be more desirable.
We really like Pozzuoli, and the apartment we are shown is pretty dang nice (will share details if it becomes more of a reality). There are a million ways this may get screwed up, so we try not to get too excited. We will have to wait approximately sixty days to take hold of this property. That is if the owner feels like going through the myriad inspections, details, demands, and contractual obligations we will require to satisfy the US government. Apparently we will be paying enough... they want to do it. We start the hurry-up-waiting process.
Meanwhile, our realtor shares with us temporary lodging in her town that another family is just moving out of, where there is beach access, a private pool, and no breathalyzer militia hanging around.
But first - a sojourn to Martina Franca where our friends have lived for the past year. I have my first official heavenly espresso on the road...
Jackie and T have a smalls too - he is more Italian than ours - he was born in this country - and they regularly call him Piccolo. He shows our Smalls what an additional two months can activate on a baby, and we look forward to many adventures in tandem parenthood.
In a whir of 36 hours we devour many of T's fantastic culinary gestures (her butcher is Slow Food Certified!?). We venture out for one lunch and gelato (twice) - but are otherwise completely satiated with the home cooked goodness bestowed upon us. It is exactly the charge we require before traversing back to the stoic base, where we pack our things as fast as we can and depart for Castel Volturno - our new temporary quarters. It's like we finally just arrived.
