There seem to be tons of books written by authors who move to Tuscany, buy an old farmhouse, and live like kings , eating locally produced wine, olive oil, truffles, etc. What I want to read about would be by the people who froze to death in a drafty old Tuscan house, were surrounded by sullen neighbors, and had lousy wine and olive oil. Are there any such books out there? I need something to provide some balance!
I’ll write one for you if you fund my trip.
One downside would have to be all the non-Italians you’d be surrounded by if you lived there. How many natives can be left? Of the ones left, how many can actually be living like natives instead of supporting the expats from Britain and America?
Maybe I should write one, I have tons of stories. I, a person who had previously sworn up and down that fur was murder, ended up wearing a floor length mink coat to bed because it was the only garment in the entire villa that would keep me warm.
I recently saw a book called Too Much Tuscan Sun: Confessions of a Chianti Tour Guide, I thought this was very clever and it definitely got a snicker out of me at the bookstore. I haven’t read it myself, so I can’t speak to how good it is, but I gather it’s about this tour guide’s experiences with the endless American tourists to Tuscany.
I will help! I promise to be the drama queen side kick!
you’ll be spoiled cuisine-wise if you come back to US. pizza, pasta, gelato…it’s just not the same.
Awesome! We’ll have a best-seller on our hands.
I agree. I haven’t even bothered with pizza, pasta, ice cream/gelato, or coffee since returning. Not worth the calories or expense now that I know what the real stuff tastes like.
On a related note, is there no north of France? Everywhere I look, it’s south-of-France-this and south-of-France-that. I’ve seen maps people; I know for a fact that there is a northern part of France. Why the secrecy? Do they not want us to go there? Yes the south is nice, but does it look positively grimy compared to the unheralded north? I’ll bet there’s a lot of booze and uncommitted sexual relating going on up there.
Well, if you want to see a film about people not enjoying their visit to Northern France, there’s always Saving Private Ryan.
There are no houses in Tuscany! You can go, look around, but you can’t find a house–forgetaboutit!
Not Tuscany, but I did live in an Italian house for two years, and can answer some cultural questions here.
The house was in Sicily, and I was there courtesy of the United States Navy.
I loved it, but there were downsides to life in Italy and the Navy both.
Oh, sure. It’s got a Disneyland. And Belgium.
And 1917-vintage land mines! How kewl is THAT?
Wouldn’t that be a 1917-style land mine?
We lived in an apartment building in Belpasso when my dad was stationed there. (1969-70)
I just recently watched a BBC adaptation of Trollope’s He Knew He Was Right and one of the main characters, falsely convinced of his wife’s infidelity and paranoid to boot, is, at one point, slowly dying in a dilapitated old villa in the middle of Tuscany and surrouded by locals who think he’s nuts. Admittedly, Italy sucking isn’t the primary point of the mini, but any port in a storm.