Settling In

The first thing I needed to do upon settling in was to find groceries. Maria graciously provided directions to the “Coop” (pronounced “cop” in Italian) in Camucia, a town at the foot of the hill, and after a bit of driving around I located the shopping center. In Europe you must insert a 1 Euro coin to unlock your shopping cart from the collection point. I’ve taken to leaving a coin in the car so I am never caught without. The system works well as everyone returns their carts and there are always children willing to return the ones left loose to collect a little bit of money. We really need to institute such a system in the USA! At any rate, I poked around the supermercato picking up this and that. Things are quite expensive in Europe, but even I was shocked to see that boneless, skinless chicken breasts are $16 a pound and are sold in packages of 1!! Returning home I successfully located parking and hiked into town only to fall exhausted into bed.

Friday was a day for exploring town a bit. I am looking for a ceramic olive oil bottle for my mom and one for myself, but didn’t find the perfect one yet. I did buy some beautiful note cards…Italy has beautiful papers, only to find they are like postcards with envelopes, not the folded cards I’d wanted. That explains the reasonable cost. Unfortunately I bought 4 of them. They should work well for thank yous or small notes to friends and I will give some to my mom too.
After making a list of cleaning supplies and food items I needed, I did have to travail back to the Coop in Camucia for a bigger shopping expedition. This time parking in Cortona was a nightmare. I circled around, up and down the hill, looking in vain. Each time I’d spot a tiny space, someone would just be pulling in ahead of me. There was a fair amount of traffic, which I eventually noticed were the same cars driving ‘round and ‘round, looking for parking just as I was! Obviously, I was going to have to be much quicker in the future-and willing to park in a postage stamp sized space. Eventually I had success, and then began the trek through the gate, uphill to the apartment. Once I reach the front of my building, there is an open doorway through which are more steps, then through the front door and another steep flight of stone stairs to my apartment. I was so tired after lugging 30 pounds of groceries I had to stop several times. I had a few minutes to catch my breath and try to stop that alarming wheezing sound was making and do it all over again as I had a second load in the car!

I’ve noticed an interesting phenomenon since arriving in Italy. During the night someone has apparently removed my previously functional legs and replaced them with a pair of rubber ones. These rubber legs generally have the consistency of jell-o, with an interesting tendency to completely lock up at the worst possible moment, leaving me leaning against a building eyes popping and lungs burning, gasping audibly for air like a fish out of water. I pretend to look for something in my bags while I wait for my legs to loosen up so I can proceed. Of course, there are usually some interested observers to witness my humiliation and for their benefit (or is it to save myself some bit of embarrasment?) I try to “suck wind” with my mouth closed.

The apartment has thoughtfully been equipped with two additional sets of shin-scraping stone steps. There are 4 down to the kitchen measuring, inexplicably 9, 9, 7 1/2, and 9 inches respectively. The 3 steps up to the bathroom are no better at 10, 9, and 6 inches. Impossible to get any sort of rhythm going and I simply lurch from one to the other hoping I won’t fall on my face. I also must say, 10 inches is a high step for someone as short as I! I can plainly see I am going to get exercise whether I want to or not!