Attack of the Cleaning Ladies

I'm in another internet dead zone, so posting is difficult. We are in a real town today, so I am taking advantage of the WiFi.

While getting dinner on Friday evening, my phone started ringing. It was an Italian number, so I thought I should try to answer it. The connection was terrible though. I finally called the number back, and it was the representative from Emma Villas responsible for our house. She as calling to let me know that the cleaning crew would be coming tomorrow, Saturday morning, at 9:30. When I hung up and told my sisters, there was a collective groan. Everyone had been looking forward to a good lie in after out busy two days. I knew that this was part of the contract, but didn’t know whether we had any control over the time. At any rate, we just agreed to make the best of it. Of course my sisters felt the need to clean before the cleaning ladies came, so dinner was delayed a bit. We finally did sit down and enjoyed the food we had acquired in Florence.

When morning dawned, it was rainy and cool. It would have been a perfect morning to stay in bed. Being good troopers, though, everyone got up and got things organized. Our plan was to take refuge in the lower level of the house, since there was not much to do there except the bathroom that I was using. So, coffee and breakfast items made their way downstairs. The cleaning crew – 3 women – showed up in two cars at around 10:00 (we could have spent another half hour in bed!). I began to explain to them that with the exception of me, everyone else was leaving on Tuesday, so there was no need to change the sheets. The woman just looked at me sheepishly and said, “But, we have our orders. And the owner’s wife is coming in a little while.” “Oh, oh”, I thought. This is getting serious. Still, I thought, with three people they will be in and out of here in an hour. At least that’s what would have happened in the US.  Anyway, two and a half hours later, they finally left. At this point, there was only one way to deal with our frustration. Eat.

The antipasto

On the advice of the owner’s wife, we headed into our little town of Tuoro for lunch. We parked the car and eventually found our destination – Osteria La Pergola. Since it was a rainy day, or at least overcast, they were not using their outside seating. Inside only had about twenty seats, eight of which were already occupied. When the six of us showed up, there was a little bit of a scramble to find room for us. The woman, who was clearly in charge, readied a table for us and soon we were seated. The menu was not large and was pretty much your standard Umbrian fare, except for the appetizers which had quite a few featuring fish from Lake Trasimeno. We opted instead for the landlubber’s platter of meats and cheese. Since there were six of us, we ordered two.  When they came out, we were amazed at the size! They were billed as “for two”, but one would have easily been enough for the six of us. But, since we were all hungry, we tucked in and did a good job of finishing them.

   

                                                                                                                                                                                        

Another 3-hour lunch

Of course, we still had pasta and a main course coming. Needless to say, by the end of the end of the meal, we were ready to explode. The nice woman who was running the place, who - by the way- had to call in another waitress, since the restaurant had filled up completely, could not understand why we didn’t want dessert. There was just no way. It was now after 3:00 pm as we waddled back to the car and back up the hill to the villa. That meal became the gold-standard for a “three hour lunch.”

We had self-imposed quiet time until 6:30. Since no one was interested in eating again, our nightly UNO competition got started earlier than usual. As always, it was a spirited evening. By 9:00, the crackers appeared on the table and it’s possible that someone went to the freezer for gelato. That Saturday evening was the one, and only time, that we had no supper at our villa.