Un Giorno Felice!

A very happy day!

The 29th of July has been a day of celebration for us for the last 28 years. Because it’s our youngest son’s birthday. Especially important this year as he got married this month too!
However, this year the 29th takes on even more importance ... because it also happens to mark the first anniversary of us picking up the keys to our ‘kiwi4everhome’.
Yup!

A year ago today, we popped into our ufficio notarile (notary’s office) and scored the keys to our dream home. And such it has turned out to be too: Our safe haven against the outside world; our little corner of this planet that no one can take away from us; in short ... our forever home.
A place that’s proven, time and again, to be more than adequate for a couple of old(er) Kiwis!
Especially now that we’ve got it into a state we’re very happy with. I mean: We’ve replaced all the windows with double-glazed ones; we installed a brand-new kitchen; and, except for a couple of pieces, all of our furniture is brand new too.
Of course, we’d chosen the property initially because we thought its location would be perfect. Being within a few minutes’ walk (no stairs!) from about every retail establishment we’d ever require.
I’m talking supermarkets, chemists, bakeries, butchers, fish shops, etc., here, as well as the equally-important cafes and bars! And we park our car only a few minutes away.
Happy days indeed!

No Place Like It?

We arrived back from our son’s wedding in Mexico recently.
Afterwards, I posted this on Facebook: “Landing in Rome didn’t do it … but landing in Catania did. It felt like arriving HOME…”

And it really was the strangest feeling for me. I mean, I’ve always been a bit of a ‘gypsy’? Someone who likes to move about the place. Someone who, quite frankly, has always found it hard to settle down. Anywhere.
Ask my long-suffering wife!
Look at our shared life over the last 37 years: We’d settle in the UK (Basingstoke, Windsor, Hornchurch) then a few years later would up and move back to NZ (Wellington, Napier, Auckland). Rinse-and-repeat!
Something also reflected in my so-called ‘career’. Since getting my start in IT in 1985, I’ve held over 40 positions in as many different companies, in five different countries!
Was this because my father stayed at the same mind-numbingly boring job for decades until he died? And that wasn’t going to be my fate? Maybe. Maybe not.
F’sure my parents never moved once they’d settled down to raise their family. I cannot say the same, I’m afraid!
When I was in my 40’s, a friend said I’d have to settle down some time. I told him I was too damned old to settle down! And so it proved.
But arriving In Catania felt … different. It felt like I’d arrived. ‘Home’, like I said.
I’ll state here for the record: I ain’t ever moving again.

Had to Happen?

In March 2020, we survived the first UK lockdown.
That over, in July 2020, we managed to travel to Sicily for our successful ‘fact-finding’ trip-come-holiday. Decision made, we landed here in September to begin our new life in Modica. Incidentally, beating by days a travel ban from the UK!

Nasty little buggers...!

Since then, we survived any number of national, island-wide and local lockdowns without incident. We kept to the rules; we kept safe; and we were uber-sensible. As one should be, of course!
Then, in July 2022, it was off to Ensenada in Mexico, to witness our youngest son get married.
A welcome addition to the family, a wonderful country, and new friends (and relatives!) made. In short: An absolute joy, and an experience I wouldn’t change for anything.
Well … except for maybe one little thing.
Y’see, we survived that four-flight journey from Tijuana in Mexico to Catania, arriving home in Modica on the afternoon of Thursday the 14th. Jet-lagged f’sure, but otherwise happy enough.
But then the next day Alice said she felt unwell. Long story short: COVID!
It took her nine days to shake it off. And wouldn’t you know it, after thinking myself somehow ‘immune’, on Friday 22nd of July, I also tested positive.
Luckily, we had (have) only mild symptoms: Sore throat, a cough, tiredness and (in my case) grumpiness! Likely thanks to having three vaccinations, I’m sure, but still very unpleasant.
Update: Tested on Thursday the 28th July … and I’m COVID free!

More Soon...

A Day in the Life

What's a ‘typical’ day like for me then?

As you'd expect, given retirement, it ain't gonna consist of trotting off to an office, I’m afraid.
Sorry. Not sorry!

My favourite early morning view - up to Alta

Anyways, what does a 'standard' day here involve then? Now I'm an early riser, often only managing five to six hours sleep a night so, in order to wake myself up, I go for a brisk walk most mornings.
Once back, I park myself in front of my PC and get on with any correspondence, checking my social media, labelling photos, language learning ... and sometimes even writing a blog!
As Alice is often still asleep, this is my 'me time', and it's also the time when I have my two (large) daily coffees. I'm so a creature of habit now!
Then there’s doing stuff about the house and/or going for a sight-seeing drive out of Modica. Once that’s done, it has to be ‘nanny-nap’ time! Given my lack of sleep, you’ll get no apology from me.
Once up, it’s back on my PC until the ‘grumpy old man’ phase passes then, as so many locals do, we’ll often go out for another walk (la passeggiata).
Here Alice will try and keep me away from any bar we happen to pass, then it’s back home for dinner. Evenings often consist of sitting up on the terrace, and then watching some TV show, movie or YouTube before bed.
Rinse and repeat? Maybe.
But I love my life now!

Un Aperitivo

On the subject of bars, ordering an aperitivo (apéritif) or digestivo (digestif) is so a thing here.

A way of life that I've fully embraced. Need proof? Ask my wife!
For the uneducated, what's the difference then?
An aperitivo's an alcoholic drink one should enjoy before a meal 'to stimulate the appetite', and it's usually more dry than sweet. Now a digestivo is also a dry-ish alcoholic drink, but one taken after a meal 'to aid the digestion', as the name implies.
Please do note: In either case, we're not talking breakfast here! I mean, everyone knows that's the time for a caffè corretto, of course.

Our aperitivi of choice...

Anyways, given how 'late' most Italians dine, a classic Italian aperitivo should be enjoyed sometime between 7pm and 9pm. And one of the most popular here in Modica would be the 'Aperol Spritz', or simply 'Spritz', as it's the most common type.
This is Alice's favourite, while my aperitivo of choice would be the even more bitter 'Campari Spritz'. Either way, such drinks should contain the likes of dry vermouth, Campari, gin, etc., being dry and/or bitter.
In contrast, digestivi often contain more sugar and/or alcohol, thereby offering a somewhat richer flavour. Great examples would be a shot of limoncello or, and my personal favourite, a grappa.
Now there are some who claim a glass of wine can be an aperitivo or digestivo? Even a semi-sweet prosecco. Sacrilege, I say!
But whatever your poison of choice: ‘Cin cin’ (‘Cheers’) or ‘Salute’ (‘Health’).

“Not That One!”

As we’ve now covered when to drink what.
Or should that read what to drink when? Either way, the burning question now becomes: Where to drink it?
Now it’s here I’ve found, over the course of our three-plus decades together, that I’m … somewhat … less discriminating than my lovely wife. At least when it comes to drinking places.
When walking about a less salubrious part of any town or city, a typical conversation runs something like: "What about this bar then?" Alice’s answer here most often being: "Not that one!"
And that, as it should be of course, is that.

One of our favourites: 'Bar del Duomo'

Luckily for me then, there seem to be few of ‘those’ types of establishments here! In fact, we’ve a great choice in Modica, this being a tourist destination and all.
However, such areas can be expensive. And that’s why we always ‘spread the love’ when it comes to which bar and/or café we choose to spend our hard-earned euros in. I say this because we have friends here who religiously stick with one establishment only. Their ‘local’ if you will.
While I for one see nothing wrong with that: It’s just that each and every place has its pros and cons. And we’ve found, during our travels, that not spending all our time in one tends to balance such things out.
Before you ask? F’sure there are some establishments here even I wouldn’t be caught dead in!
Being those tabaccai (tobacconists) with attached bar places mainly...

More Soon...

 

Summertime

When it's 22C at 05:58 in late May, you know Summer's just around the corner!

Meaning, in combination with a humidity reading of only 37%, that the living's suddenly become easy.

Damn hot...!

Someone stated Spring would literally switch to Summer over the course of a single day here. They were right! We were just too busy to notice last year.
Anyways, I adore Summer: The endless sunny days; the azure-blue cloudless skies; the midday stillness and quiet; needing to only wear minimal clothing; and having to drink plenty of liquids.
Although Alice spoils the latter by stating that doesn't include alcohol. But still, it all combines to make this my favourite season of all.
Okay, it can f'sure get hot. Here in SE Sicily, it officially reached 48.8C last August! And, given climate change, it's very likely to reach that (at least) again.
Now is there such a thing as 'too hot'?
The answer is an obvious 'yes', of course, but if'n you're sensible, it's standable. I mentioned that quiet around midday? That's because sensible locals are indoors, with their blinds drawn, staying as cool as they can.
The midday riposo of two to three-plus hours many businesses and offices take here turns from minor annoyance into entirely understandable!
At its most extreme, stepping out into the sun can hit you like a wall of heat. And we experienced just that last year. At least four times over that Summer.
But we’re sensible … and it’s coming up watermelon season!

Growing Season

Spring and early Summer here in Sicily means the growing season.
That and the re-appearance of the uber-fast, acrobatic Swifts from sub-Saharan Africa, of course.
However, along with the many and varied seasonal crops produced here for us to so enjoy dining upon, it's also time for weeds and other unwanted plants. Which, and naturally, also enjoy a revival at this time of year!
They're flowering, which okay can be a feast for the eyes, but they're not welcome in certain 

The wall of a local school

areas: Like in the many crevices of our centuries-old home.
Now we've handled our particular situation by nuking 'em with weed killer. RIP weeds! But others aren't doing the same, and that's a real shame.
I'm not talking 'bout our fellow homeowners here, if'n they want plants growing in, on and about their buildings? Fill ya boots, as they say. That's entirely their prerogative.
No, what I'm talking about here are our local monuments and/or tourist attractions: The many churches; and both civic and privately-owned historic buildings.
The vast majority of which sport weeds. Growing from their roofs, window ledges, and cracks-and-crevices. There doesn’t appear to be a single one here without them!
I mean: There’s nothing more disconcerting than gazing up in wonder at a 300-plus year-old architectural masterpiece … and seeing a 2m fig tree growing from a rain spout 20m above your head … or maybe a cactus sprouting from its guttering or roof.
I know money’s tight, but surely something could be done?

Speaking the Lingo

Alice speaks fluent Italian, and is often praised for it.
Now she'll claim she isn't that fluent: That she still struggles with some concepts and technical terms? But if you can get a local bureaucrat onside; argue with delivery men; and explain exactly what's required to your builder?
Then you're 'fluent enough' yeah?

On the other hand, there's me. Still struggling with stringing sentences together; forgetting words I know I know (if you know what I mean?); and only remembering what I should've said way after the fact...
I have to say, some concepts in Italian drive me crazy!
Take gender now: Italian uses grammatical gender, even for the inanimate. For example, while a candle (candela) or an orange (arancia) are feminine; a chicken (pollo) or umbrella (ombrello) are masculine.
Then a moment (momento) is male; while an hour (ora) is female. At least those ‘a’ and ‘o’ endings help!
Then there are adjectives. Which are usually after the noun they modify, and agree with the nouns in gender and number.
For example, il vestito rosso means 'the red dress', but (literally) is written and said as 'the dress red'. And this becomes i vestiti rossi when it's 'dresses'.
And don't get me started on verbs! In English 'to say' in the present tense uses 'say' or 'says' ... but dire (to say) here is either dico, dici, dice, diciamo, dite or dicono!

On the up side, pronunciation is fairly easy, being phonetic more often than not.

More Soon...

A Sad Fact?

Death, of course, is ‘only’ the final act of living.

And it’s so very common. Literally an everyday occurrence. I mean: We’ve all lost someone, will lose someone and, being mortal, will eventually lose ourselves.
Why bring this up? Am I gettin’ maudlin because I have way more history than future?
Nope!
It’s just that here in Sicily (and throughout much of Italy) death is accepted as a part of living. In that it’s not hidden away. Notices of passing are not consigned to the ‘Births, Deaths & Marriages’ column of the local newspaper, as they are in most Anglo-Saxon countries.

Death notice boards

Sounds weird I know, but you see funeral posters and mourning notices everywhere here.
And I do mean ‘everywhere’! There are at least four dedicated death notice boards right here in Modica Bassa.
Every church also has notices of upcoming funerals, or anniversary masses, on its railings outside. And then, notices are often fixed to the outside of the deceased’s home, and throughout the local neighbourhood too.
The latter staying fixed to the wall until time and weather cause them to fade away.
There’s an open honesty about this that I find … endearing. It’s not hidden away: It’s celebrated and broadcast so everyone knows of their passing, and where and when they can pay their final respects.
Sadly, we’ve found people we knew, but didn’t know they’d died, this way.
Note that I’m not in any hurry to have my picture plastered about town, okay?

Un Caffè

On a lighter note: Ordering a coffee is one of life’s great pleasures!
Note that “un caffè” here means “an espresso” ... and nothing else.

My personal coffee pot...

Since being responsible for importing the first coffee beans into Europe, its consummation in Italy has grown somewhat! Particularly after the 1884 invention of the espresso machine in Turin. Followed by Alfonso Bialetti’s 1933 invention of the iconic stovetop moka pot.
Since then, of course, Italy’s built up this coffee culture which is admired (and imitated) world-wide.
My native NZ was a little late to the ‘coffee culture’ scene, with espresso machines only popping up in cafés from the 1980’s. However, it’s worth mentioning that instant coffee was invented in 1890 by New Zealander David Strang!
Anyways, and like everything here, there are ‘rules’ when it comes to drinking this wonderful beverage.
For example: Cappuccino is a strictly breakfast drink, made to accompany your morning cornetto (croissant) or brioche. And any native who orders one after around 11am would f’sure get a sideways look.
Although us foreigners may just about get away with it: I’m looking at you, Alice!
I’ve actually cut back on drinking coffee here. In my defence though, that was instant, and I’m now exclusively an espresso-junky! Rich, dark, strong and lovely, I only have 2-3 cups a day now.
Okay … my moka pot is a ‘4-espresso-cup’ model, but still!
Another rule? Never wash your moka pot with soap: That built-up residue is key to the flavour.
Lesson learnt!

OMG

I’ve written about death and coffee ... so it must be time for religion then!
Due to us now being firmly in the grip of the ‘Festival Season’ both here in Modica and throughout Sicily.
That is: Religious festivals. F’sure a ‘thing’ here in this most Catholic corner of Italy. The locals do appear to be more religious than many other parts of this country I’ve lived in or visited.
The bells being testament to that! Pun intended. Not sorry.
They peel rigorously at 8am, noon and 8pm every day; ring the quarter hours; and also 10 minutes prior to mass.
But what really draws the punters in are the aforementioned festivals. The city being packed with locals, visitors and tourists for two consecutive festival weekends.

“Madonna Vasa Vasa” (left) & “Festival di San Giorgio” (right)

First came the “Madonna Vasa Vasa” (“Madonna Kiss Kiss”), on Easter Sunday.
Here the statues of “The Risen Christ” and “The Madonna” were paraded separately through the streets before meeting, when the Madonna joyfully kisses Jesus.
Then last weekend there was the “Festival di San Giorgio”.
St. George being Modica’s patron saint. Now his equestrian statue, with obligatory dragon, is carried all about the place: From the valley bottom to the highest point in the city.
An eight-hour journey!
I do have to say that while we loved both festivals, it was San Giorgio’s that made the biggest impression. The joy on every face, either participating or watching, was a … revelation. Especially given the last two years.
And there’s more to come!

More Soon...

 

Withdrawal Symptoms

The Withdrawal Agreement signed between the UK government and the EU allowed us, as British passport holders, to receive a new post-Brexit electronic residence card here in Italy.

This "Carta di Soggiorno" (lit. ‘Residence Card’) could be obtained from your nearest police HQ (questura) and, while not obligatory (as we can prove residency anyway), it was seen as useful. Especially for international travel.

Now we initially didn’t feel the urge to get one as any new process here was bound to throw up … difficulties. That’s because Italy equals burocrazia (bureaucracy) and confusion, of course, and the CdS was neck-deep in it from the off.
I mean: Some questure hadn’t heard of it; others made up the process as they went along; and some simply chose to ignore it altogether! Few got it right, from one end of the country to the other.
After letting things settle down a little, we decided we’d better get ours anyways, as agencies here were now asking for it. Not demanding it: But the pressure was on.
So, we fronted up to the Ragusa questura with all the documents needed. On top of that, they also required our fingerprints.
And that’s when things got interesting. Because, while Alice’s were fine, mine apparently weren’t!
Long story short? Since March 2021, I’ve had my fingerprints taken four times! The last time a policeman said to me: “I’ve found it easier to take fingerprints off of a cadaver…!”
And I’m still waiting for my card!

Non-Pet Hate

The current bane of my wife’s life is ... “Columba livia domestica”.
The humble pigeon!
Those coo-ing menaces who’ve shared our city spaces since like forever.

An ‘urban terror’ given a new name in 1966, when NYC’s Parks Commissioner coined the now-infamous term: “Rats with wings”. And who can forget how London’s then-Mayor Livingstone declared war on those “flying rats” frequenting Trafalgar Square in the early 2000’s?
Why Alice’s obsession? Well, despite our newly-installed double-glazing, that “coo-coo” of theirs isn’t at all endearing to my wife, as it apparently wakes her up too early.
Me? I don’t mind them too much, as I’m up uber-early every morning anyways.
But then, good husband that I am: Her problem becomes my problem!
Okay, I will admit, they can be damned annoying. Especially given we have so many empty and/or abandoned houses around ours. Properties where the flying rodents roost inside of, on their ledges, or under their eaves.
And, of course, they poop everywhere!
Now here, it’s illegal to poison ‘em: Scare them off, by all means; but no culling allowed. Given that, I fired up ‘Google’ and sought remedies. Frustrating f’sure, as there are as many ‘sure-fire solutions’ as there are ‘it don’t work’s!
So, compromising, I came up with a number of (maybe) solutions: Bird spikes, twirling, hanging and shiny wind spirals; metres of reflective tape; and a cayenne pepper anti-bird spray recipe. All of which appear to work at least some of the time.
The fight continues!

My Turn Now

In the spirit of fairness, I thought it best (as did Alice!) I mention my current interest.
Ever since we bought our home here, I’ve become somewhat obsessed by … cacti.

"Coral", our Opuntia microdasys var. pallida f. cristata.

Y’see, when we first moved in back in July 2021, we found that besides our new home, we were now also the proud owners of three damn-near dead cacti plants. That is: A ‘prickly pear cactus’; a ‘crested bunny ears cactus’; and a ‘lemon ball cactus’.
No surprise to those who know me, I did extensive research to find out exactly what they were!
Personally taking them on as a ‘project’, I nursed all three back to full health, and with that, a new hobby was born. Alright, I’ll admit I’m now fascinated by them, as I find them so very interesting!
Every time we go for a walk or drive now, my long-suffering wife rolls her eyes when I point out: “Now that’s a fine-looking cactus, yeah?” And believe me, as we’re in Sicily, where the climate’s perfect for ‘em, that’s said several times a day, I’m sorry.
Not sorry though!
The good thing is that, as I’m no gardener, cacti are so very easy to grow, that even I can do it. They’re perfect for growing on a terrace, as we have no garden.
To date, I’m now the proud owner of 11 different varieties, and my collection’s growing (pun intended!). Alice has now taken to calling them: “Your babies…”
Well she ain’t wrong!

More Soon...

Crossing the Line

 We’ve only gone and done it!

17 months after arriving in Sicily, we can say we’ve made it, yeah? That we’ve gone from arriving here with a couple of bags full o’ hopes and dreams ... and loadsa research notes ... to settling into our ‘kiwi4everhome’.
What do I mean by this?
I mean not only do we have about every document, card and permission we need to both legally and permanently reside here: Our home is finished, done, and as near as damn it complete!

Our pre-renovated kitchen.

It’s fully furnished, (most) boxes are unpacked, it’s double-glazed, has a new kitchen, and all major renovation works have been completed.
So that’s it: We’ve got our house in order.
We’ve crossed the line.
Okay, and of course, there’s still the “rats and mice” things to do. But nothing that can’t be done at our leisure, and over this coming Summer. Nothing that’ll hold up our (ongoing) enjoyment of living here on our island in the sun, in the Mediterranean.
It’s been one hell of a rollercoaster ride though: Ups, downs, and lotsa going round and round in circles, but we’ve arrived. We’ve made it. We’re here now.
And this is forever, by the way, ‘cause we ain’t for moving. When I stated, way back in March 2020, we were looking for a ‘forever home’, that’s exactly and precisely what I meant.
Now some believed then (and maybe still believe now) we’d only end up moving again?
That won’t be happening!

Being First

Along with getting our house in order, we’ve also gotten a car.
While it is, of course, our second most expensive purchase here, it’s been so worth it ‘cause it’s granted us something wonderful: Independence.

Let's celebrate our independence!

Independence from the somewhat archaic and often disorganised modes of public transport available to us in our wee corner of the world. And independence from relying on the many wonderful friends we’ve made here who’ve gone out of their way (literally!) to transport us all about the place.
However, as we all know, for every ‘upside’ there’s so gotta be a ‘downside’, and the biggest downside, besides the cost of fuel right now, are our fellow road users!
I say ‘road users’ because it’s not just other drivers: It’s the moped and motorcycle users; and don’t start me on the pedestrians!
The late, great Clive James, in his “Postcard from Rome” programme, got perhaps the best answer I’ve ever heard to the question when he asked: “Why do Italian drivers drive the way they do?”
His taxi driver answering: “Because we must be first...” Which does about sum it up, I have to reckon!
Said driver also stated that road signs, and road rules, could (and should) be ignored when inconvenient...
We can confirm this to be the case. I will say though, that most of the local drivers here are pretty good overall. They f’sure have far more patience than we’ve observed elsewhere in Italy at least.
Still drive like lunatics though!

Money, Money, Money...

So, our house is now a cosy home, and we’re fully mobile ... but what about the dreaded ‘F’ word: Finances?

Balancing budgets...

Those who’ve been following me since the beginning’ll know I’m a little annaly retentive! If there’s any way of doing it, then I’m all for firing up a Word document or an Excel spreadsheet.
One ‘positive’ from 30-plus years in IT!
So, I’ve been doing end-of-month spreadsheets. Beginning with “1 Total Funds - 23rd October 2020”, created a month after we arrived here, and up to last months: “16 Total Funds - 31st January 2022”.
And no, you’ll get no details!
What I will say is that well before landing here, I’d worked out what I thought was a good, do-able, monthly budget. One designed for two (older) non-working adults, with no in-house kids, and no outstanding or future debts (e.g. no mortgage, borrowing, etc.).
I know, I know: “Okay Boomer” right? In my defence, I opted for unemployment as I can’t get a state pension for another two years.
Anyways, one thing I did uber-research was the Sicilian cost of living. Specifically concerning Ragusa province, where possible, using several ‘comparison’ websites covering the costs of food, utilities, transportation, entertainment, etc.
Long story short? Factoring out buying the house, car, renovations, etc., I reckoned we could live comfortably on a comparatively modest budget here. And, over this last 16 months, we’ve been spending around 90% of what I’d reckoned on per month.
That’s f’sure not bad!

More Soon...

Buon Anno (Happy New Year)

January 2022? January 2022!

It’s a source of constant amazement to me that ... well ... I’ve lasted this long, yeah?
Okay, that does sound a bit morbid but, in my defence, I was born in 1958, and now I find myself in 2022! Who would’ve thought? Not me.

To you and yours from me and mine!

A wise man said: “The days may drag, but the year’s fly by...” While more a reflection of those days when I was still working for a living, I do have to say that the years have f’sure flown by!
It seems only yesterday I was recovering from my heart attack (2015); that we were planning our move to the UK (2017); and then moving again from there to here.
We’ve achieved so much since we landed in Catania (for Modica) on Saturday the 26th of September 2020. Only 16 short months ago now!
Exiting that EasyJet flight, all we had were two suitcases, a whole lot of research notes on my laptop, and our Italian codici fiscali (tax codes). After uttering a wee prayer or two to the gods of chance, we also left that plane with one hell of a lot of hope.
Hope that the extensive research I’d done was enough. Hope that we’d actually enjoy living in (not just visiting) Modica. And hope that abbiamo avuto le palle (we had the balls) to not only survive but thrive!
It appears we did have le palle, and I feel 2022 will be awesome!

Naivety

According to Merriam-Webster, to be naïve is to have, or demonstrate, a lack of experience or knowledge.
And I noted a classic case of this just the other day, on one of the Facebook groups I belong to.
Obviously just off the plane, and in Palermo, this person talked of not wanting to “give up on my Sicilian dream just yet”.
This because they’d found “trash bins ... pouring out onto the streets” and “faeces all over the side walk”. They then went on to ask if anyone knew of a cleaner area in Palermo? Or perhaps other “cleaner cities on the island?”
The reason I’m focusing on this particular post, over many others, is that it uber-highlights that distinct lack of knowledge some have when arriving here.

'Nuff said...

I’m not talking tourists: These are people wanting to settle here. Why oh why didn’t they do some (at least basic) research before setting foot on Sicily? I mean: C’mon! ‘Rose-tinted glasses’ and all that!
Before even thinking about making the move, I’d Googled things like ‘problems in Sicily’, ‘infrastructure in Sicily’, and ‘best places to live in Sicily’. Basic, simple stuff that takes seconds to do.
Did it take the shine off? F’sure it did! But this is what being realistic means, doesn’t it? You do your research, into the good, the bad, and - yes - the ugly, before even thinking about boarding that plane, surely?
We’ve still been shocked, but that’s all part of life and living yeah?

Crimes and Misdemeanours

It may come as somewhat of a surprise, but crime rates are fairly low here in Sicily!
Statistically, in 2020, it was actually Milan, Bologna and Rimini that were the ‘leading’ areas for reported crimes in Italy. In fact, no Sicilian city even makes the top 15.
That’s not to say crime doesn’t exist here. Of course it does! But it just doesn’t directly impact our lives.

It’s petty crime, like pickpocketing, that’s more of a ‘threat’ to us. Although (again statistically) on the island it’s no worse than elsewhere in Italy.

F’sure Modica ain’t Palermo, Catania or Messina, of course. Places which could be intimidating if’n you don’t take sensible precautions. I mean, we don’t flash the cash or expensive items about, and never leave anything of value in plain sight.
A standard operating procedure in any town or city we’ve ever lived in or visited. And we’ve both lived in and visited more than a few!
Now let’s address the elephant in the room here.
You have to know one of the first things most friends said about Sicily (including some Italian ones) was: “What about the Mafia...?”
To which I replied: “What about ‘em…?”
When it comes to ‘Mafia-like’ criminal organisations, Campania (with its capital Naples) has the largest number of such organisations.
While Sicily naturally does feature, it’s fourth on the list. A statistic I can live with!
Anyways, no mafioso is gonna bother with a couple of middle-aged Kiwis.
I can hope!

More Soon...

Feliz Navidad!

Well, I have to say, our second Sicilian Christmas was very special!

Y'see one of our sons is here with us, along with our lovely daughter-in-law. Anton and Alina both live in New York, and decided this year was the one they'd visit us.

Alina, Anton ... and me!

It's been a real privilege because this is the first time Alina's been away from her family over the festive period. She's Mexican (hence the Spanish greeting!) so, just like any Sicilian, family plays such a huge part in her Christmas celebrations.
As said, a real treat for me and Alice!
F'sure it's been a somewhat traumatic journey for them. Not so much the distance, or even the logistics involved, but thanks to the rise (and rise) of the Omicron variant, of course!
Unfortunately for us, they spent several days in Rome before journeying here. I say 'unfortunately' because, obviously, they've found Modica to be ... somewhat ... bucolic, quaint and under-whelming in comparison.
That's only natural, and was entirely expected by all of us, but the pair of them have been very forgiving and understanding.
You have to remember that this particular part of the world is essentially our 'retirement home'. Chosen not for its size, exciting nightlife, or large foreign population, but (mostly) because it's the very opposite of all those things!
Like any family here in Sicily at the minute, our own festivities have had to be muted, thanks again to ongoing concerns over Omicron.
But, nevertheless, it’s been awesome as!

‘Expat’

A term that’s bandied about a great deal within the foreign community here in Italy.
Wikipedia defines an expatriate as: “A person residing in a country other than their native country ... the term ‘expatriate’ is also used for retirees and others who have chosen to live outside their native country.”

"Expats Living in Sicily" FaceBook page

In my humble opinion, we should more correctly be labelled as ‘immigrants’.
Why? Because that definition better fits our small community here, doesn’t it?
Am I not a person: “...who comes to live permanently in a foreign country” (Oxford), or one: “...who comes to a country to take up permanent residence” (Webster’s)?
The term ‘expat’ can be (often is) seen as implying wealth and privilege, ‘different’ motives for moving, and nationality. Some going as far as to believe the word has racist connotations.
Now originally the word ‘expatriate’ referred to exiles. But that meaning has now been lost. Unless, of course, you consider some of us at least to be in self-exile from the UK post Brexit!
What makes a person like me an ‘expat’, while another is labelled a ‘foreign’ or ‘migrant’ worker? It’s because the former is used to describe educated, seen-to-be-rich people working and/or living abroad, while those way less privileged (e.g. farm workers in Modica) are labelled as the latter. With all the stigma that brings.
A classification that really matters, because such language has been used as a political tool (e.g. by Trump and Johnson).
So, I’m an ‘immigrant’ and a proud one!

Differences

Let’s talk differences here.
Not in migration status, but in areas. Modica is unusual in that this small rural city, only boasting around 54,000 residents, is effectively split into three areas.

View from Bassa up to Alta

And that’s three very distinctly different areas! These are: “Modica Alta”, “Modica Bassa”, and “Modica Sorda”.
These names are local ones, and don’t appear on any official map. Regardless, there are great differences between the three.
Alta is the oldest, and sprawls high (hence its name) on the rocky ridge north of the now-city centre. It was the first settled (around 3,000 years ago!) because the valley below was once home to two torrential rivers, which flooded regularly.
Later, many citizens chose to ignore that threat, and moved to the more convenient lower slopes. This became Modica Bassa (“Modica Low”). But the threat remained and, following a disastrous flood in 1902, the rivers were paved over.
The third, biggest, and way less attractive area it has to be said, is Modica Sorda. A very recent addition, sprawling southeast of the city centre, it was founded as recently as the 20th century. And, consequently, is full of apartment blocks and similar soulless buildings.
What differentiates these three, more than mere geography, are the services on offer.
Services, such as public transport and modern infrastructure, that are missing in Alta; available but more ‘touristy’ in Bassa; and modern and fully available, but soulless as mentioned, in Sorda.
Given the above, we had to choose to live in Bassa, of course!

More Soon... 

Carry On

Let's talk ... couriers!

Those of you following my blog will know we've been semi-constantly assembling furniture for months now. Something you can't do without unassembled furniture pieces arriving at your doorstep.
And that's the rub right there: It both has to arrive and at your doorstep. Not 100 metres away, big and awkward, and weighing 100 kilograms!
But I'm getting ahead of myself.

A courier with a trolley? Who knew?

Much of what we've ordered came from a company called 'Songmics'. Strange name, but great products, with no-fuss, excellent (and free) delivery. Consequently, our entrance, kitchen, dining room, and lounge are full of their 'Industrial Style' pieces.
We love 'em!
When you order, within a day or two they'll send you the delivery details, down to the actual day and an estimated time. The products are Chinese (of course) but, joke all you like, the company here in Europe is based in Germany, and they’re f’sure efficient.

However, you can't order everything from one company.
So we looked elsewhere for our kitchen pantry, terrace furniture, bedroom suite, etc. And that’s when the 'fun' started.
Some of the delivery companies involved were okay. Most weren’t. Estimated delivery dates? Fine. Everything else? Not so good.
And the excuses: "But signora, my truck's too big...", "But signora, I’m here. Why aren't you home?", and "But signora, I don't have a trolley..."
That last one really got us! We heard it any number of times. A courier without a trolley? Please!
But we’re about done now … thankfully!

Next Up

Next up is installing double glazing, and a new kitchen.
I was initially sceptical about the windows. F'sure they’re wooden, single-paned, and came with gaps due to age?

Getting on a bit now...

But this is Sicily after all: Our island-in-the-sun, whose weather bears no resemblance at all to that we’ve experienced previously. So surely, we could get away with a cheaper update, rather than a full do-over?
My fault entirely, I'm afraid! Too busy concentrating on getting our forever home furnished to give it much thought. In my defence, last Summer was a scorcher, so there seemed no rush.
Well, there is now!
The weather recently has been very reminiscent of London’s, albeit somewhat milder. With constant rain, lots o' hail, and cold-and-dark overcast days.
Luckily, I finally listened to Alice’s demands that we get it organised and, after getting three quotes, chose a local company to install them.
That was in late August but, this being Sicily, it looks like we may finally get them installed in December.
The kitchen was less problematic.
And, while there was no argument about getting a new and bespoke one, again we left it a little late. We ordered it in October, and may see it in by Christmas. We hope!
Our home came with a rudimentary (Ikea) kitchen so, in our defence, there was no real rush. There are only two of us after all. Although it’ll be great to have a new one, I have to say!
‘Cause I do love to cook.

Utilities

You won’t get far without water and electricity.
Not only do these utilities make life bearable, they’re essential, of course!

We had a wee struggle with the first one when we moved into our new home. We could get our heads around the fact water was only supplied for 3-4 hours a day, so you needed to store it.
And, as we have three 300 litre water tanks, we found ourselves with more than enough for our daily needs.
Now water tanks need a pump, which kicks in every time you use any water, to ensure water pressure when turning on a tap, taking a shower, etc. But our new place had two pumps: One for pumping the water into the tanks from the mains; the other for moving it about the property.
While the previous owner had assured us both pumps worked just fine, she didn't tell us the mains one had been left turned off.
Two days without any water wasn’t pleasant!
We had less of a struggle with electricity.
Except for the fact that this is also ‘rationed’. As in: You have access to a limited amount, per household, at any one time.
Which means, for example, while you can have the aircon on with the stove, the power will cut off if’n you try to use the aircon with the washing machine. Or the washing machine with the stove. But the aircon and the iron are just fine!
Yes, we’ve had to make a list!

More Soon...

Assembly Line

We picked up the keys to our home on the 29th of July.

And, besides the usual challenges with moving into a new home, we’ve been busy these past three months assembling furniture.
Y’see, we sold or gave away what furniture we had in NZ before moving to the UK.
And in London, we’d been lucky enough to rent a semi-furnished house. So all we’d had to do there was buy a bed, and a couple of chests of drawers.
Done on the understanding we’d get what we needed once in our forever home.

Luckily, not a problem.

And, once here, because we decided to not buy ‘already made’, we obviously had to go with the ‘assembly required’ option. So we’re assembling furniture now.
Now I know it sounds like hard work, and/or boring, but we’ve actually been thoroughly enjoying it. In fact, Alice keeps pestering me about when the next shipment’s arriving. Go figure!
So far, we’ve assembled ... wait for it ... 28 individual pieces.
That’s everything from display to kitchen units, a shoe-and-coat stand to a dining table, bathroom units to outdoor furniture. And a 3x4m umbrella for the terrace! None of it Ikea.
We have another six pieces arriving soon too. Go us, right?
This option has worked out very well for us, as I’d put aside a substantial (and over-estimated) budget for furniture and fittings and, to date, we’ve only spent 44% of it. Not too bad at all.
‘Only’ need a new kitchen and double-glazing now!

Nomnom

Around midday, by way of goodbye, the locals may wish you instead ‘un buon pranzo’ (‘a good lunch’).
That’s because food’s important here.
Not just as sustenance: It’s more a way of life. It’s preparation and presentation, and subsequent eating and enjoying, are all paramount.
Shared with family and friends, or enjoyed by yourself, it doesn’t matter.

Sometimes ... size is everything!

Walking about the streets of Modica, you can’t help but be drawn to the smells of someone cooking. Whether they’re frying garlic and onions in olive oil, stirring a pot of Caponata, making a rich pasta sauce, or just baking bread.
It’s all to die for! And it’s become a mantra with us: “Nonna’s cooking again...”
However, with it been such an essential part of a Sicilian’s very being, it comes with ‘rules’. And heaven help you if’n you don’t follow them!
For instance, Alice mentioned at a favourite cafe we’d be having würstels in (not ‘with’) a salad. The waiter was horrified! She got teased about this only yesterday ... and she’d said it months back.
The taste is so very different to what I’d (sadly) grown accustomed to in both NZ and the UK.
The tomatoes here actually taste sweet, like the fruit they are. Those white onions are delicious, and you can really taste the lettuce. And don’t get me started on the fruit!
Although, because it’s so fresh, you have to eat it quick. And check for slugs and snails.
F’sure that’s two problems I can live with!

Dionysus

The phrase "Wine, women, and song" encapsulates a far more hedonistic lifestyle than I live.
I mean, my lovely wife wouldn’t like me chasing other women, and I can’t sing a single note! However, it does contain one thing that’s forever been a big part of my ‘lifestyle’.
And that’s wine.
I’m not going to claim that that’s one of the (major) reasons I moved to Sicily, of course. But it f’sure has played a part.

In case you were confused...!

It’s just that the wine is so plentiful here, it’s cheap, and can be both lovely and lively. Oh, I’ve had some bad experiences, believe me, but on the whole not.
When you can pick up a decent bottle of DOC wine for less than €3.00; a good one for less than €5.00; and a great one for €5.00 to €15.00, what’s not to love? Way cheaper when (often) on sale, of course.
My favourites, you may ask? That’s easy: Nerello Mascalese, Nero d’Avola and Cerasuolo di Vittoria. In about that order, too.
Now yesterday, we went for a passeggiata (walk) to the far end of the main street.
Passing what was obviously a new business, we (naturally) asked the guy there what it was going to be? Long story short, he invited us to have a look: A wine bar. Oh joy!
We came away, after tasting some of his wares (free), with the remains of the bottle we’d been tasting.
Forget women and song, life don’t get much better that this!

More Soon...