Digs

My time as GMs house guest was getting close to a month and while he is too polite a person to actually utter the words, when are you leaving?  I sensed a panic in his eyes and a rising fear that he would never get rid of this Indo/Anglo/Aussie who had so completely invaded his life, home and taken control of his kitchen – not that there was ever a complaint about coming home to find a curry bubbling away on the stove.

And so began the hunt for digs of my own.  Having spent the last few years in shared accommodation with some successful and a few disastrous experiences I was hoping Trevisan rents would be affordable enough for me to live alone.  Having experienced the nightmare of the Melbourne rental market I was also hoping the process would not involve rental auctions or 200 people turning up to a viewing. 

Treviso itself is a small walled medieval city (really the size of a large town) with a sprawl of housing that has developed outside.  So there are two types of real estate – dentro o fuori la mura (inside or outside the walls.)  All of my new friends live outside the walls and indeed none of them know anyone who lives inside, naturally inside was where I began my search. 

While real estate agents the world over are a breed of humanity to themselves the Italian variety have their own peculiar distinctions.  In Melbourne you would be hard pressed to find an agent spending more than two minutes with you between selling another unit at eighty grand above the list price in Italy an agent will quiz you on your life story before even checking what they have available.  There’s no advertised viewing or even collecting a key and going to have a look yourself.  Here you have to make an appointment with the agent to view the property.  My first was a lovely if a little dark apartment near the cathedral, when I mentioned that the rent was more than I wanted to pay the agent, who had often visited India and had an adopted Indian grandchild (did I mention life stories?) without a blink of an eye asked me how much I wanted to pay and said he would see if he could get the price lowered for me – well, not in Kansas now!  The next day I spent the afternoon with another real estate agent who was charming until she got behind the wheel of a car when all the swearing and gesturing I have come to expect came out.  With her I saw another three apartments all of which were affordable and beautifully fitted out.  Lastly I saw a tiny little studio apartment in a modest little palazzo slap bang in the centre of Treviso.  While it has cupboard like proportions it felt right.  It also helped that it was the cheapest place I was offered (even before I got them to lower the price) and with all bills included.  The agent was cut from the same real estate agent cloth they use the world over – in fact I wondered if the material of his pin stripe suit is actually called real estate agent stripe.  His hair was slicked back and on his wrist was a perfectly ghastly watch that served to show money does not buy you taste

My modest little home

Having decided on the place next was the drama of the contract.  Being used to the whole one month rent in advance and one month as deposit I was a little taken aback with the Italian two  (and often three) months deposit.  In addition there is a fee of another month’s rent payable to the real estate agent for, from what I could gather, putting an A4 sign in the window and showing you the apartment.  Finally there is the fee for registering the contract.  I am rapidly coming to terms with the fact that when Italy hits you with these little surprises all you can do is shrug your shoulders and get on with it.  There was also the small issue of me not actually having a work contract yet (I had glossed over this little fact) but as ever in Italy as in most places the fronting up with the cold hard cash is a facilitator.  So all I had to do was sign my name on the contract and the place was mine for the next year.  This was when I freaked.  Generally I see myself as a little commitment phobic and for the last five years have not managed to commit to anything other than the keeping of a regular dentist appointment and here I was committing myself to a year in one flat in one town/city in one country.  My heart pounded and my hand shook a little.  When it was all over the agent taking pity on me suggested I may like a drink and perhaps we adjourn to the nearest bar.  So there it was in just three days I had found my apartment and signed the contract, I could move in on Monday. 

I returned to give GM the bad news that his home, couch and bachelor life will be returning to normal – he was nice enough to not jump and whoop for joy (actually I don’t think he’s the type to whoop.)  Now I have no idea of the intricacies of location in Treviso and when I told GM I was moving to San Leonardo he was struck dumb. 

“Do you know where you’re moving to?” he asked

“Yeah course I do, I have seen the apartment”  

“No, do you understand where you are living?” well obviously I didn’t but it seems I have found myself in the most exclusive part of Treviso (if a place that takes 20 minutes to walk end from end can have an exclusive area.)  So my friends can hardly believe that not only am I living inside the walls but I am living in the Treviso equivalent of 90210.  Me, I just liked the little understated building with canals running either side.  When GM drove me to my new residence he couldn’t believe it “I’ve always wondered who lives here” was his comment and now he knows. 

So I am happily ensconced in my little cupboard in the “city.”  GM took me for a shopping trip to IKEA to get all I needed to kit out my little place and it is becoming a home.  In the morning it’s filled with light and the gentle background noise of the running water from the canals is soothing, until you wake in the night needing to pee.  While sound proofing is not the best and I can only really entertain one person at a time it feels safe and perfectly right for now.

                                                                   This mornings view