How to find your stolen car in Italy

What I am about to tell you is all true. It will seem far fetched considering what you have read in past posts, but I can assure you that as unbelievable as it sounds, it is all true.

We had just managed to get bel bambino to sleep, it was Monday evening about 9pm and we were still in hospital. We had had a bad day since we had been told that we could go home on Monday (which turned into Tuesday which turned into Wednesday) and here we were still in hospital. Bel marito had left our car parked in the hospital car park and to save a few euros overnight he moved it into the street which was free to park in after 8pm.

The next morning, nice and early bel marito went outside to move the car back into the car park only to find that it wasn't there. He was in shock, he was angry and a man came up to him to ask what the problem was. He explained that the car had been here but someone had obviously stolen it. The man asked for bel marito's phone number and said he would see if he could find it.

Bel marito came back to the hospital furious as this was the last thing we needed. We were due to leave hospital the next day but how could we leave with no car? (ok, well I had to leave in an ambulance since I am immobile but bel bambino and bella bambina had to go in the car.) He started making phone calls, not to the police but to friends and relatives who may be able to help. You readers are probably like me, ignorant when it comes to stolen cars in Cosenza (not sure about the rest of the country.) Let me tell you how things work.

Many, many cars especially the Fiat Panda and Punto are stolen since they are common and easy to break into (we have a Panda.) The cars are stolen by gypsies or Italian thugs but normally gypsies. They then get into contact with you and tell you how much money they want in return for the car. If you accept the request and pay them then a time and place is arranged. You give a third party the money and then go to the pick up point and find your car waiting for you. If you refuse to pay them you will never see your car again and they apparently break it up and sell it for parts.

If you are an ignorant, stubborn foreigner like me, you will be asking yourselves - why not go to the carabinieri? Report the car stolen, tell them of the pick up point and get them to go with you undercover. Get them to question the third person who takes the money and make some arrests! No. No such luck since cars are stolen all the time and obviously - according to me - there is someone on the inside, a carabinieri or someone involved.

The man who had asked for bel marito's phone number is an example of the third party. In our case he never called back since he probably didn't know who had stolen the car. Bel marito left us in the hospital to go and report the car stolen since we had to be covered incase the car had been used in a robbery or something. When he finally made it to the carabinieri (he was on foot after all) he was told he had to come back because the person in charge of this issue was out. You would think any police officer could file a missing car report but no such luck. The morning was spent making a million calls and finally our sister in laws sisters friends boyfriend knew someone who knew someone who knew who had stolen our car.

Bel marito never spoke to this third party. Our sister in law dealt with the sisters friend as no one can know who the third party or who the thieves are. They told us how much they wanted, not a small sum by any means and at first after weighing up the pros and cons we denied the offer saying it was too much. We could have gone via our insurance but the payout on the car would be next to nothing, the money would take time to come and we would have no car the next day to leave the hospital. Also our mother in law will take our car when we move to Australia so in the long run it would cost less to pay the thieves rather than take a small payout from the insurance company and have to buy a new car.

More phone calls were made and finally a price was agreed upon. We were told the car was in perfect condition and we had to cancel the police report. The police report!? How did the thieves know that bel marito's parents had filed the report on our behalf? I think they knew because they have someone on the inside who tells them this - what other explanation can you think of? Now all we had to do was wait for the pick up point to be confirmed. We had given our sister in law the money to give to the girl who would give it to who knows who...and once the money was in their hands the pick up point was arranged.

Bel marito, his brother and wife at 8.30pm drove to the pick up point. There the car was, on the side of the road in front of a factory in a not exactly deserted but not very busy road. It was not in perfect condition so after bel marito had made the call to the police saying we had found it, it was taken to a mechanic.

The story ends well enough I guess. We got the car back even if I don't agree with paying the thieves at all. Had we not been in the hospital and desperate for a car we would have not paid...but....oh well...we got the car back.

I remember being awake on the Wednesday after the accident, so no fragments of Tuesday exist for me.     I had been put into an induced coma for the day. I had severely fractured both hips and my right femur. I had traumatic brain injury and fractured ribs, a hematoma in my right ear and a few other things. I didn't know any of this for a while. Maybe I'd been told and didn't understand, maybe I understood and forgot or maybe...I don't know. I don't know a lot.

I was in the intensive care unit and bel marito said when he saw me I was awake and I thought that he was a doctor. I don't remember. I wasn't allowed to see bella bambina because I was under intensive care and no one was allowed to enter except my husband. I wasn't allowed to see bel bambino but bel marito told me he was fine.

It wasn't until I was transferred out of intensive care on Thursday and transferred onto the orthopaedic ward that I was told a little of the truth. I started to cry when the truth came out. I thought that bel bambino was fine and over in the paediatric ward. This had kept me going throughout my days in intensive care, I was happy that he wasn't suffering like me. The truth when it came hit me hard. Bel bambino had not and still was not in the paediatric ward, he had been and still was in the room opposite mine in intensive care unit. He had been put into an induced coma from Monday evening until Thursday afternoon after suffering traumatic brain injury, a double fractured jaw, a broken femur amongst many other things. I couldn't stop the tears when I found out that he had been so close to me and no one had told me. Bel marito admitted that as difficult as it was, he had been sworn to secrecy. The doctor's needed me to be calm and thought it was best not to know how grave the situation was. Finally on Thursday afternoon when I was taken to the horrible orthopaedic ward they wheeled bel bambino into my room for a brief visit. He was so small and frail on the adult bed, he had a feeding tube in his nose, bandages on his arm, massive bolt thing on his leg and his face was covered in grazes. He smiled and cried when he saw me but was still under medication so didn't make any sound. At least I was able to hold his hand and sing him a song for the few minutes that he was with me. As hard as it was to see him so sick and injured at least I was able to see him alive.

Bel marito spent as much time as possible with bel bambino down in the intensive care ward but it was difficult as he was normally put to sleep. At night time bel marito returned to my room where he slept on the chair. Well sleep was near impossible for us both what with all that had happened. But you're probably wondering what happened to bella bambina during all of this? We are thankful everyday that I was not hit or didn't fall onto my stomach during the accident. Bella bambina was born at 8.30pm on Monday 20th August at 35 weeks weighing 2.2kg. She was not injured at all and obviously was put into an incubator under constant observation, but she was fine.

She was beautiful, or so I was told. You can imagine the anger I felt when I had visitors who had seen bella bambina (through the glass) when I had not yet seen my own baby. This will be the beginning of my story taking a turn to talk about the horrible hospital in which I spent a terrible 17 days.

Working down south

In my last post I wrote that work is hard to find in the south of Italy. I should have said that work is hard to find for Italians but if you are a mother tongue English teacher, which I am, then you won't be short of work, well at least here in Cosenza. You'll probably be underpaid and have dodgy contracts, your bosses will think you only moved here yesterday and try to fool you into believing their contractual lies....but you'll have work.

I have been lucky since moving to Calabria. I had a job interview the day after moving here (after bel marito and I returned from our holiday in Australia in January 2010.) The next day I began work, and although it was always cash in hand with no chance of a contract I was paid well (for Calabria). There were students, I had enough work, and I had some good money coming in. I went to Scotland with my boss (and bel bambino in my tummy) and taught there at an International school. But this is Calabria this is Italy and when you have no contract and work for a somewhat flimsy school then nothing is certain.

Whilst pregnant the majority of my work was taken away from me and given to another, my boss (who was AUSTRALIAN....can you believe it. She had lived in Italy for a long time though) what was I saying? Oh, yes, my boss went psycho, and I mean psycho so I left and just in the nick of time since I have heard that she has shut up shop, without telling the students, and run off to France.

I was out of work for a few months with the good excuse of having a baby but when bel bambino was all but 3 weeks old I decided to print off some CVs and take them around Cosenza. We drove around Cosenza for a while, bel marito driving whilst I tried to find the schools. We only found 2 in the end, the others were impossibly hard to find and I wasn't actually thinking anything would come of it, but low and behold the next day one of the schools called, I went in for an interview and a few weeks later began working full time and the school.

The pay was ok, I had a contract, nothing permanent but I contract and my colleagues were great. The hours were just too much for me though. I was working a 6 day, 40 hour  week, on top of that I was doing a PON at a local school and I was translating a novel....and I had a little, tiny, bel bambino at home. When my contract ended I asked to become part time, and of course was given the lie that work would start in September, after having a forced 2 month unpaid holiday since the school was closing for the summer. So we are now at the end of September, and this forced 2 month unpaid holiday has become 3 so what else would one do but look for new work?

And new work I found, today being my second day. I am now an English teacher at a private asilo nido which is like a day care kindergarten with babies from 1 to 5 years old. I work just the mornings for 4 hours a day, and I get paid more then I was and I just chat to the 3, 4 and 5 year olds in English while they stare at me like I am an alien from another planet. 

Still no permanent contact, still underpaid if you think of wages in other countries, but I have to count myself lucky that I have work.

Fear in Italy

I am learning that Italians are a scared bunch of people. Sometimes I don't know how they manage to leave the house, and let's be honest, in small villages lots of people just don't, but that's another story! I never realised how dangerous the most simple things can be.

In Calabria in particular it is popular to eat fruit after a meal, rather then sweets. A while back, last year I think, after dinner with bel fidanzato's parents the fruit bowl was placed on the table. We all reached in and I pulled out a juicy looking orange. His parents were staring at me, a look of shock and fear flashed across their faces. What was I doing? they asked. Umm, I thought we are like, meant to eat fruit after dinner to help our digestion. (Another thing I have learnt. Who knows about digestion in Australia, not me...) I looked around the table and the fruit of choice was mandarins, not oranges. No, you can't eat an orange after dinner! Ok then. I can't remember exactly why, I think it had something to do with the acid upsetting my digestive system and not allowing me to sleep, or something like that. As always is the case with me I said, don't worry, I am Australian, I have a strong stomach and can eat anything after dinner. I'll be fine! And I was fine, but to avoid the Italians at the dinner table being nervous for the duration of the evening, I avoid eating oranges at night, in public.

Another day when our shower was out of order we went to bel fidanzato's parents for lunch, then a shower. As soon as lunch was over I got up and walked to the bathroom. I'm off to have a shower, I called out. What? bel fidanzato's dad looked at me like I had said I was about to jump off a bridge. So soon after eating? It is dangerous to have a shower when your food starts to digest. I said, well, in Australia I have showers when ever I want, and I've always been fine. After a heated discussion it was decided that I had to hurry and have a shower before my food actually started to digest, or I had to wait until later when it was completely digested. I ran off as fast as I could to the shower, not wanting to cause my in-laws more unnecessary stress of having this foreign daughter-in-law who does strange things. Now, why is a shower after eating so bad? I guess it's like not swimming after you've eaten. Apparently the food won't be digested properly and it can get blocked causing you discomfort and even harm!

One of the biggest Italian fears is not food related, but all about the weather, or more precisely the dreaded wind. 'C'e vento!' There's wind, you hear everyone and anyone cry out as soon as the slightest hint of wind emerges. Even children are scared of the wind and I don't blame them when from an early age the fear of wind has been put into them. One such windy day a few weeks ago we were out walking with bel bambino, we braved the winds and survived, but don't forget I am Australian so have 'permission' to do crazy things like walk in the wind with a newborn. We passed an old man who was carrying wood into his house and his little grandson was watching from the door. Come out and help me, called the grand father, No nonno, I can't. There's wind! I was shocked. This child was about 4 years old and seriously was scared to go out into the wind. Now I am not so crazy that I take bel bambino out into the cold icy wind, but as long as he is rugged up and protected in the pram then a little bit of normal wind does him good!

If you live in Italy then I am sure you know about this fear of wind, and if you travel to Italy, on a windy day pay close attention to conversations as I am sure it'll all be about the wind.   

Baby superstitions

I feel as though I live on a live movie set sometimes. The things people do and say are often so funny, so stereotypical that it's hard to believe it's actually true. Since the birth of bel bambino we have had a steady flow of visitors. Those that don't come to the house to officially visit stop us in the streets when we are out and about going for a walk when the weather permits. (Yes, I know, shock horror that I can take a new born baby outside so soon, and in the middle of winter too!)

When people aren't asking me if I breastfeed, they are pointing their fingers inches away from bel bambino's face as they say "benadica!" which means bless. The pointing of the fingers comes when they utter a compliment or two, since he is after all the most beautiful baby in the world. Now I am not talking about any old finger pointing here. I am talking about this finger pointing:

This finger pointing is le corna which translates as the horn. It is a sign to ward off the malocchio, the evil eye since giving a compliment to a person can cause them harm. If people don't want to point their fingers inches from the babies face, then one passer by said "che brutto!" with a smile on her face as she looked into bel bambino's angelic face. Now, I am assuming she didn't really mean that bel bambino was ugly, but she didn't want to compliment him cause of this evil eye thing....or maybe she was just a rude old person who thought he was nothing special...but no...I am sure it was not that!

Another tradition is that some people have given us gifts of coffee (a bag of coffee beans, or ground coffee in a pack.) I have no idea why, and have asked bel fidanzato and his mother, but neither of them know why people give a gift of coffee. It's a useful gift however as one can only have so many baby clothes.

Living in a small village is rather comical at times!

Christmas time in Malito

I hope you all had a Merry Christmas! I spoke to my family who were enjoying an outdoors lunch in my parents backyard, sipping chilled wine in the 28 degree weather. My family celebrate Christmas on Christmas Day, whereas here in Italy most people have their main celebration on Christmas Eve.

It still feels a little strange for me celebrating on the 24th. In Australia, I used to wake up on the 25th and Christmas had started. When we were little, the first thing we did was run to the Christmas tree and tear open the presents that santa had left. I never wondered why mum and dad never bought us anything - it was always just santa! As we got older, and mum and dad, rather then santa gave us gifts, we would wait a little longer until opening presents. Normally we woke up, ate breakfast, a little later opened presents and then had a long, leisurely lunch.

Here it feels strange that I wake up on the 24th then spend the day preparing for the evening meal. By the time the evening actually comes I am tired. If you've celebrated Christmas on the 24th for your entire life, then I am sure the 25th would be strange, but for me it will take a few more years to get used to. When I was in Australia last Christmas, I made sure to buy a few Christmas cds so at least we had some English festive tunes whilst preparing for the Christmas dinner.

This year we celebrated with a dinner at my in-laws. As you can imagine, we had a feast, course after course after course. We set the table in the dining room. lit the fire and ate the night away. It was surreal for bel fidanzato and I that this would be our last Christmas 'alone.' It's still a bit hard to believe that next Christmas we'll have a little baby crawling/walking around trying to pull the decorations off the Christmas tree!

Whilst I passed my day cooking - ok, I did just a little bit of cooking and a lot more resting, (I'm 8 months pregnant don't forget so may as well take advantage of this special treatment!) bel fidanzato spent the sunny, warmish morning preparing for the annual bonfire. Here in Malito they have a big bonfire in one of the piazza's on Christmas Eve. Unfortunately after bel fidanzato and his friends spent the day preparing the food and wine and piling up the wood, the weather turned nasty.

The skies opened and it started to rain, really rain. It ended up raining for the 25th and 26th too. Not only was there rain, but fierce winds, so the bonfire obviously could not be lit.

It was a shame, but alas one cannot argue with mother nature. Rather, while most people headed off to midnight mass, bel fidanzato, his American cousin who was visiting, and I went home and pretty much went to bed!

On the 25th we returned to my in-laws to open our presents and eat the left overs for lunch. It rained the whole day, but by early evening we were getting a little fed up, so decided to brave the rain, and take the American cousin to Panettieri to see the navity.

It was lightly spitting as we drove up the mountainous roads, and we laughed as the car thermometer told us that the outside temperature was literally dropping by the second as we went higher, and higher up into the mountains. We stopped laughing when the light rain turned into snow and the mountainous roads started to turn white. We decided to turn around and head back down the mountain. Probably had I not been 8 months pregnant we would have continued regardless of the weather, but the roads up in that area are isolated and dangerous, so we didn't want to risk getting stuck in the middle of no where! We ended up going to a town closer to Malito that also has a nativity but it was not as professional, or beautiful as Panettieri.

Finally, by Monday the 27th the rain stopped and the bonfire could finally be lit. It was a god send as once the rain stopped, the temperatures dropped so it was lovely to stand around the enormous outdoor fire.

A real life nativity

The nativity is a popular Christmas tradition in Italy. Sure, in Australia we put a little manger under our Christmas tree, with Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus etc... but here in Italy it is a whole different matter. At Christmas time people make elaborate nativities in their homes, and sometimes whole villages get turned into a giant nativity scene.

Bel fidanzato has created a beautiful nativity in our apartment, using - as most people do - bits and bobs that you find around. The ground is covered with dirt and moss collected outside, the 'mountains' are these wooden/bark things that are decoration in our home and the scattered snow is good old flour. The trees are branches, and the grotto in the corner are rocks from our future home. The little houses are 'borrowed' from the in-laws since this is our first Christmas here, and we haven't had time to make our own houses! Mary and Joseph are yet to make an appearance as they are out and about with the donkey of course searching for a place to have the baby Jesus (and we haven't got them yet!)

This is my second Christmas in Malito. Last year bel fidanzato and I were nice and warm in Australia, and two years ago I celebrated my first Christmas here. Bel fidanzato took me to Panettieri , a small, mountainous town on a cold, pre-Christmas night to see life size presepe - nativity. The town itself is small, and not too far from Malito kilometres wise, but to reach it we had to drive for what felt like forever up steep, curvy, dark mountainous roads.


View Larger Map

I was amazed that this tiny village, literally in the middle of no where was host to this Christmas tradition. They had turned the entire old town into a life size nativity scene. It was beautiful. We paid a small entrance fee and then we left to follow the one way system around town. The streets were lined with hay, candles and open flames lit the way and the normal street lights were all covered with hessian sacks creating an authentic atmosphere. Town folk were dressed in costume and wandered the streets, each acting their part.

Many 'houses' were open for us to walk inside. The majority of these houses were magazzini which are storage rooms. Most Italians have a magazzino which they use to store wood, the years supply of bottled tomatoes, wine, oil etc... These storage rooms are often very large and can be attached to your own home, or close by. These rooms were turned into shops for the evening, such as a shoe maker, cheese maker, baker etc... with the villagers demonstrating how these shops functioned back in biblical times. They didn't give demonstrations as such - if you wanted to talk to them and ask questions then you could, but the village was an open-air play with all of the 'actors' going about the daily routine of years, and years ago.

They even had gorgeous ponies that you could pat - well I was patting them anyway.







And at the end, the nativity town was complete with the manger, Maria (Mary), Giuseppe (Joseph), an empty cradle for Jesus, little angels and even the donkey.

Wine making in Italy. Part 1

Tomato time has well and truly passed here in Italy. It's October after all which means it's wine making time. Bel fidanzato has not made wine for a few years, but since we are now back in Calabria, living in Malito we decided that this year we would start making our own wine. To make wine you'll need:

Grapes. These dark, juicy grapes come from Donici which is a grape growing town near Malito. Don't ask me what type of grapes they are as I have no idea! We don't have enough grape to pick and use our own, so for the time being we buy grapes. We hope to plant lots of grape vines in our future home, but that is still a few years away. You can use what ever combination of grapes you want to make wine. We used just red, so this is going to be a dark, rich, strong wine. Lots of people add some green grapes to make the wine lighter.

These cases of grapes should give us 100-120 litres of wine.



Lots of Italians also have a cantina, which is a storage room of sorts for storing - and making - wine. Bel fidanzato's family have a small cantina in one of the country properties. The cantina is full of beautiful, old, antique wine bottles which I just want to steal as decoration for our home! When we moved here in January, long before wine making time, some of these bottles happened to find there way into our apartment...

I am not so knowledgeable about making wine, and was quite surprised to learn that you do not have to clean the grapes...so don't worry if you see some little spiders or insects mixed in with the grapes. This wine is going to be 100% natural - no chemicals, nothing added except for grapes, and the odd insect it seems.

Once you have the grapes, the first thing you need to do is separate the vine part and the grapes. To do this, the family has this:

Once this machine (I have not idea what it is called) is clean, you take it into the cantina and fill the top with grapes. Have a look inside and you will see what the grapes will be squashed by.

Now it's time to tip the grapes into this machine.

It is hand operated, and you want the grapes to fall into the container below, while the vine part falls into a different bucket. When you turn the handle, there is a metal, colander type thing which pushes the grape vines out, rather then down into the container.

This is what you are left with: a container of grapes which you need to leave as is for about 48 hours, and a container of grape vines which some people throw away, and like us, some people keep to use later.

How to bottle tomatoes

A few weeks ago I helped bel fidanzato's mum, dad and brother with bottling tomatoes. Bel fidanzato was at work, but it didn't matter as it was a small operation. There were not as many tomatoes this year for a few reasons. One of the main reasons is that there is a cinghiale - wild boar - living in our future home! The old 'farmers' who look after the land have not seen this wild boar, but he leaves his horrible foot prints around, and has destroyed a lot of the crops. Have you ever seen a wild boar? Nasty things. I have only ever seen them in Sardinia and was very scared. They are dangerous and grow into massive beasts.



So, we had less tomatoes this year but more then enough to keep us going. When bel fidanzato and I eventually live in our future home, we will learn (from the old farmers) how to look after the crops and then hopefully watch them flourish!

To bottle tomatoes you first need to collect them and wash them. These tomatoes are not the perfect, round, bright red ones you find in supermarkets. They come in all shapes and sizes, often are ugly but the taste cannot be beaten!






The tomatoes then need to be chopped up - not too small. Also keep the skin on them, no need to peel them or anything! You'll need to have some well cleaned bottles and a wooden spoon or something to push the tomatoes down with.



All you need to do is start putting the chopped tomatoes into the bottle, and use the spoon to help you push them down. Don't mash up the tomatoes too much by pushing with the spoon. If the tomatoes are really juicy you can drain a little of the juice out before closing the bottles firmly.





Once all the bottles are full you need to put them into a large container. You are going to fill this container with water and then boil it, with the bottles inside. We boiled ours over the fire place as we were at the country property. You need to boil the bottles for an hour or so, once the water has started to actually boil. There is no hard and fast rule though as I am sure ours were boiling longer then that! They then need to be left in the water overnight, and the next day you can take them out and store them away for the winter time.



Easy really! Bel fidanzato's parents ofter bottle one or two bottles at home. Here in Italy, you find that friends, neighbours - who ever - just turn up at your door with crates of fresh tomatoes without warning. Bel fidanzato's cousin called us last night to come and collect some tomatoes from his plants as he could not get through them all. I've gone from never having picked a tomatoe in my life, to being quite the expert. You have to eat as many tomatoes as you can while they are fresh (so lots of tomatoes salads, pasta with fresh tomatoe sauce etc...) then not to waste the rest, just bottle one or two bottles of the remainder tomatoes at home. Bel fidanzato's parents are bottling a random bottle or two in the kitchen most days as the tomatoes are still coming in thick and fast!

Picnic in the Pollino

Last weekend bel fidanzato and I went for a picnic about an hours drive north of here, to the Pollino mountains which is part of a National Park. We weren't there by chance, we were there to see some of my aunts and uncles who were on holiday from Australia. My aunts are two of dad's sisters so therefore they were going back to visit their home town, Policastrello, which is surrounded by the Pollino mountain ranges. 

The setting for the picnic was beautiful.

The land was well cultivated as herds of cows live in this area of the park and they make sure the grass doesn't get too long. They had run off by the time I whipped my camera out.

We were about 1300m high and the air was refreshingly cool. There was lots of food including hamburgers which my aunts had made Australian style and lots of vegetarian plates for me. I still got harassed by everyone there that the baby needs meat...but I am used to this by now so just smile. And of course there was watermelon as no summers day would be complete without hordes of the stuff!

There was of course lots of music and even a bit of dancing. A man and lady in our group whipped out their guitars and a guy grabbed his accordion from the car.

Picnics are never a dull affair in Italy!

Photo night in Malito

The other night there was a festa of sorts up near our apartment. Last year, a cousin of bel fidanzato and some other locals decided to organise an evening in which a section of the village is focused upon, and everyone gets together to look at old photos. We were not here in Malito this time last year, but this year we are not only here, but we are living in the section that would be the focus of the night.

We live up near the church of San Martino and as the late afternoon approached preparations began:

Vines and flowers were used to decorate the area by the church.

A screen was erected for the slide show.

The dessert table was set up and those of us who live in the area hung coloured cloth (or a floral, orange table cloth in my case) from the windows. You can see my kitchen window in the photo.

Bel fidanzato helped carry the church chairs out so that there would be seats for all. The old people arrived very early just to secure the best seats!

Slowly people filled the church steps and by the time it was dark and the slide show had started there was no where left to sit.

I love village life!