Yesterday was a day for believing at least six impossible things before breakfast.
I was up early to take Lottie for a quick run round the block. Stazione Termini seems very familiar. It may have a Victoria Secrets shop now, but the layout is essentially same as when I lived nearby in a pensione in Via Cavour for a few months when I was 22.
Then it was a taxi to the notary’s office across Rome near Ponte Milvio. I got there early enough to enjoy this view of the bridge.
The deed was read to all parties and signed. Disappointingly, no parrots or other exotic creatures were involved this time.
After that, I just had time to dash back across Rome in an Uber, pick up Lottie and catch the train to Lecce via Bari.
I definitely had a great sense of relief. But it was slightly marred by bickering with my buyer on WhatsApp for the whole trip because I’d taken down pictures and left hooks in the walls. Extraordinary. His attitude was less like a buyer to a vendor and more like a landlord to a tenant. I think he’d secretly been hoping that I wouldn’t have time to remove everything in a week. Luckily the neighbours saw to it that I did!
Lecce, hundreds of kilometres south in the heel of Italy, is as pristine white as ever.
I got to Lecce at the perfect time to meet David after work and have a celebratory drink. Lottie wasn’t impressed.
2022 and all that 