The return and more bureaucracy to face. 6/5

The hills are alive with wildflowers. They have sprung since we left three days ago. The dandelions are like a yellow carpet, interspersed with tiny forget-me-knots, buttercups, daisies, primula, grape hyacinth and another natives I don't know the names of. The grass and trees have greened, the fruit trees are in flower and the lilac is just about to burst open. Big fat bees hover in flowers, drugged and heavy with pollen and nectar. Tulips, fat and looking hand painted are unfurling, black throats just visible. People are out in their vege patches, hoeing and there's a strong smell of manure around the town. I walk down to the shops through a field of wildflowers swaying in a slight breeze. This is living.

But anxiety looms. My sister-in-law ran this apartment for us, kept it clean, paid the bills from our account but I was to sit down with her and talk through what had to be done and how to do it but Covid stepped in and I never had that last talk with her as she died during the pandemic. I realise how spoilt I have been and am grateful for her help. I make an appointment to meet with a cousin of hers to talk it through. I think it'll take half an hour, an hour later and with a list two pages long, I realise I have a long way to become Italian.

But I take it a step at a time until 2 am in the morning when I think of having to do it all. In Australia I would breeze through it, here I have my broken Italian and a lack of confidence with a large dollop of nerves. I have to learn to pay my tax and the garbage and I have to be able to access my bank account but of course, that's not easy. I went to the bank a couple of weeks ago and they set me up with a new password to match my Italian phone but I wasn't brave enough to access it. A day ago I tried and all attempts to use the account ended in failure. I awoke early, had a short black coffee and headed down to the bank and my favourite bank manager, Alberto who is about fortyish and I fear lives with his mother. But he is kind and we try everything and then he gives up and sends me to the teller at the front who for a while has as much trouble as I had until finally, it's all set up. Codes here are 9 digits long, even bank pins are 5 long. We work it out and I'm operational.

Next to the comune or council which only sees people between 11 and 1. I ask a friend if I should just drop in and he says to be sure, make an appointment but he forgets so I just walk in and stepping over ammonites I am lead to Maria who solves all my issues. I have tried online to create a tax account and I've been told a password would be sent but that doesn't happen. Don't worry she says in her excellent English, I will fix. Of course, their wifi drops out but she does it all on my phone, after sterilising her hands and getting on with business. She gets me a password and I am tax and garbage payments on my way. The relief is immeasurable. I meet up with the daughter and we have a coffee but then at 11.30, we see an old couple ordering a Campari spritz! We feel we're in good company and so we order one.

The day has gone so well that I decide to brave the other issue I have. My second name has been discovered to have been spelt wrongly on important documents. An N is in position instead of an M. Catastrophe or catastro as the Italians so eloquently put it. I have been advised to see a man next to the flower shop. I take a deep breath and set off. He is in his office and so is his son who speaks English as I speak Italian. We manage to get the messages through. They can't help me but if I go up opposite the skating rink, there will be another man who may be able to help me.

I wander up and admire the lilac trees in bloom and find the next office. He takes notes, we discuss the problem in more bad English/Italian and he says he knows a man in another town. Leave it with him. And so I do.

I wonder home through the field of flowers and hope for the best. And then I think I should have another look in my sister-in-laws apartment just in case she has a file. She's big on files, it's a Sagittarian thing. And there it is, the will, the Successione with notes and the man we are looking for who can help us. It is my lucky day.