Troppo Caldo!

In the month of August, Italy seems to shut down. Now, I was warned in advance about this but didn’t really believe that I would walk through a ghost town here in this vibrant country. August is the time for Italian’s to go to their holiday spot, and with an understanding of the heat here now, I don’t blame them. With 34ᵒc heat pounding on your face every time you’re stupid enough to walk in the sun, the need and want for a source of water is unimaginable! I swear if this heat carries on I will start seeing mirages and possibly an oasis! At least being by the beach or a river, you can attempt to remedy the constant feel of sweat on your body, only while you’re in the water, but least there would be an attempt! This leads me to my adventures with my flatmate.

Just over a week ago, my flatmate and I agreed to go on a bike ride. With an orange polka dot bike, I sailed through the crazy streets in hot pursuit of Bruno on his mountain bike. I have to add here, that it’s very weird for me to cycle without a helmet, with years of drumming it into my head that it will save my life and a hum of my mother’s horror stories from her work, it felt extraordinary to feel the wind battle through my short hair. I became very aware that the front brake was a bit dodgy as well, any emergency stopping would probably see me in a heap with a bicycle on top of me. After cycling through a lovely park, we went down a huge hill and into woodland. At which point, my borrowed bike became helpless. Abandoning the cycling and continuing on foot, we took a walk through the mud and found some great bike trails. It was decided on the way home that Bruno would see about claiming an abandoned mountain bike at his workplace. Knowing that most Italians cycle around on a bike with no breaks and flat tyres, I didn’t hold any steep expectations.

A few days later, we were at Bruno’s work place rooting around for a bicycle pump. Having pumped up the tyres and raised the saddle, we were ready to rumble. Out on the open road, my front brake pads fell off. At which point, I thought ‘If I die now, I’ve had a good life!’ undeterred, we carried on. Each day we cycled further away from the city, on one particularly hot day, we found ourselves at the rivers’ edge with people swarming from all directions. It seemed that with the lack of beaches, the river was the next best thing. I tried to ignore the brown stodgy colour of the water as local children bathed and splashed around. We decided that it would be a good destination for a picnic, so after a shopping trip we prepared a lovely little picnic, complete with some traditional sandwiches, beers, books and music.



Once we arrived at the river, we were dripping with sweat, really nice thought huh? But to be honest, this was soon remedied by the chilling mountain water the river had to offer. Unlike the time before, the river was now crystal clear and very clean. We sat on the rocks and cracked open our first beer, leaving the others in the water to chill. We spent a good four hours at the river side playing cards, reading our books or simply just basking in the sun. It was the first time in a very long time that I can remember those kind of adventures, it reminded me of college days with the disposable BBQ’s and the beers in the park. However, I was reminded of the uniqueness of this opportunity as I gazed up at the beautiful mountains that were set out before us, and whilst listening to Italian conversation of the old geezers dressed suitably in their speedos.



It seems that my flatmates have taken me under their wings, what with trips out on the bikes, visiting the local bars and joining them with their friends at concerts or parties. On my first weekend in the flat, my artistic Italian flatmate invited myself and Bruno to accompany her to a party outside of town with some of her friends. With no plans of my own, I jumped at the opportunity to join them. I realised as soon as we had arrived at the party that I had found people that were down to earth and easy going, in a way that I was used to with my own friends at home, I was unaware that these types of Italians existed! As the BBQ was being saved from the sudden storm that had rolled over, I found myself in the kitchen with Barbara cutting up a watermelon and emptying a bottle of vodka and juice into the concoction.

Before long the food was being dished up and I was comfortable in talking English with a few of the people at the party. I felt a little mean at the time as I had stolen the host of the party and kept him busy chatting and laughing with me most of the evening. Having come from Berlin to see his friends for a few days, I saw it as important that he also share his night with them. However, the conversation was too good to give up and as his friends struggled for his attention, we put the world to right sharing stories of our travels and experiences. It became quite apparent that we clicked.

A few weeks later, I find myself in countdown mode for my flight to Berlin to visit him. There are many things I could talk about regarding this situation, but I have decided it should wait until my next blog when I return from Berlin.

Apart from night life and bike rides, my flatmates have also helped me with the matter of banking here in Italy. After an absolute nightmare and my money ending up in every way shape and form in England, I decided the easiest option was to open an account over here. Plus with a part time job, I needed some way of getting paid. I went on a mission and found a Barclays bank, I surprised myself walking into the branch, after all the hassle they gave me in England. A nice young man explained what I needed to open an account and off I trot. A few days later, I found myself sitting next to Bruno in a waiting room ready to battle with the office staff to give me what Italians call Codice Fiscale, which is their equivalent to personal identity number. Spending only 10 minutes at the desk, we walked out with my personal number and smiles on our faces. Brilliant first part of the process done. Next was opening a bank account, as I mentioned earlier, August is holiday time, so it turns out that the young man that helped me a week before was now on holidays. Being the only person in the branch that spoke an ample amount of English, I was a little worried about going there alone. But I had to do it, with papers in hand I walk in determined to show what I wanted. Two days later and two further trips to the bank, Bruno had joined me. The previous day had seen me having a communication break down with the staff there and I was at the end of my patience. Thankfully, the ball is rolling and I may be able to have some of my money soon!

It’s crazy the coincidences that come up. It seems that things have slipped into place since moving to Bergamo. About three weeks ago, I met an English girl on the train between Bergamo and Brescia. At this point I was still staying in Brescia and it was the day I had found my new flat. Jackie was over for 10 days attending a wedding as a bridesmaid near Lago d’Garda. We shared our own stories and talked of England. After chatting for half an hour on the rattling train, we exchanged numbers and promised to meet for a coffee upon her arrival back in Bergamo. Ten days later, after only three hours sleep the night before, I met Jackie in town and took the bus up to Città Alta. The most beautiful part of the city, the old cobble streets lined with quaint little shops. We wondered around the streets a little while and decided on a place to have an early lunch before Jackie had to get the bus to the airport for her flight in the afternoon.

As we sat with our delicious pizzas and glasses of refreshing white wine, we were serenaded by a guitarist on the street. It was lovely and fantastic to have the opportunity to chat to and share time with an English person. Upon arrival at the train station, where Jackie was to find her bus, a familiar accent piped up “Are you Aussie?” This made me giggle and I told her my little story about my weird accent. An Aussie woman and her child chatted to us until the bus came. I discovered that she was here on a year exchange while studying education at a university in Sydney. This coincidence made me laugh, of course when I told her that I was here to study Montessori Education, she jumped at the chance to grab my number and arrange meeting for coffee.

So a combination of Aussies and Brits, mixed in with a whole lot of luck and coincidence in regards to flatmates and new people in my life has found me here, with less than two weeks until I start my new job and studying Montessori. Awesome.