First Person: Real Life In Italy
Each month we introduce you to someone who has made the dream of picking up and moving to the Bel Paese a reality.
In their own words they share the good parts, the bad parts and the just plain absurd moments of day-to-day life in Italy.
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ID Card: James Stunell. Director of Studies, teacher, translator and mountain guide.
Age: 33
Currently living in: Vico Equense — Sorrento Peninsula
By way of: Born in Oxford, England, grew up in the Cotswolds, university in Leicester, England, then moved to Koblenz, Germany.
How (or why) did you get here from there?
Well, I was (and am) a total Germanophile. I absolutely adore Germany and all things German but feared that I was becoming somewhat narrow-minded. Italy is about as far away as you can get from the Teutonic mindset, so I thought that would be a good place to start. I was also a big fan of Italian cuisine and was very much in love with Cecilia Bartoli, the Roman mezzo-soprano, and I quite fancied coming down here to chance my arm at finding my own Cecilia. I didn’t find a Cecilia, but I found a Giovanna; same raven hair, same eyes you could drown in. She can’t sing for toffee, but she cooks like a dream and, personally, I find that a fair swap.
What role did language skills play in your experience?
Oh, they were central, and a major motivation for coming here. I was lucky that I already spoke fluent German and had more than a smattering of French, so I was able to pick up Italian fairly quickly. I had no Italian at all when I stepped off the plane, which made it all rather fun!
Your biggest challenge:
Not to be driven insane by the mindless, nit-picking bureaucracy that accompanies the simplest of transactions, from opening a bank account to buying a mobile phone.
What do you still have to get used to/learn?
I have yet to understand the Italian obsession with the motor car. Not only will they spend hour after hour in traffic just to avoid walking 200 metres, but they will actually drive around all evening simply as a way of spending time! It’s got to the stage now where I avoid telling people where or when I?m planning to travel. You can bet that they will know someone who knows someone else who?s going there too, and then it will take all my powers of diplomacy to get out of being given a lift, without causing offense. You see, Italians are as baffled by my attitude to cars as I am by theirs. And I still have to get used to the way in which they classify people of different ages. In England, I would be considered as fast approaching middle-age. Here, I am “un giovane.” If I were to commit a crime and my physog ended up in the local paper, I would no doubt be referred to as “il ragazzo” throughout the accompanying article. And anyone under the age of 18 is a “ragazzino.”
Compare an aspect of your town (or other place you’ve lived) to current town:
How can you compare the Cotswolds, the Rhineland and the Neapolitan Riviera? They are about as different as it?s possible to be! I suppose one thing that the Cotswolds and the Neapolitan Riviera have in common is that they are both staggeringly beautiful areas that are taken far too much for granted by the people who live there. The Germans are much better at appreciating what they have got than are the Brits or the Italians.
Latest pursuits: www.sorrentowalks.it – My latest project involves taking tourists for mountain walks in the Monti Lattari on the Sorrento Peninsula. We all end up going for lunch in a trattoria somewhere and have a really super day out.
A preconceived notion about Italians/Italy that is not true:
O.K. Let?s be fair. One positive and one negative. For one thing, it’s not true that Italian public transport is a disaster. It’s actually very good indeed. I know I speak as a citizen of the country with the worst public transport system in the Western world, but even so. On the other hand, Italians have the reputation of being a musical people. They are not. Although I live close to Naples and, therefore have a sneaking admiration for Neapolitan singer/songwriter Pino Daniele (His strummings do add a certain je ne sais quoi to a diner-?-deux on a terrace overlooking the Med), there isn’t anything on the Italian musical landscape that isn’t bland, cloying, self-indulgent codswallop. And it’s everywhere! Supermarkets, lifts, weddings, christenings. I haven’t yet had the misfortune to have to go to an Italian funeral, but I’m sure it’s there too! How did the people who gave us Rossini, Bellini, Puccini and Verdi reduce themselves to this level of musical incompetence? Gosh, what an outburst!
A preconceived notion about Italians/Italy that is true:
Again, a plus and a minus. The families are very close-knit. I love that.
There?s always a special occasion to go to and you cannot beat the simple pleasures of an Italian family meal. Their whole attitude to good food in good company is absolutely spot-on ? something we have unfortunately lost in the north. And, of course, it means that there is always a butcher, a baker and a candlestick-maker in the family to give you the sort of service that you won’t find in Italy without connections. The minus? It’s absolutely true that organisation is not one of the Italians’ strengths.
Your response to the following question: “I really want to live here, but I don’t speak Italian or have a job. What do you think?”
Go ahead and do it. People aren’t intrepid enough these days. Once upon a time (and it wasn’t that long ago) people would just hop on a plane and hope for the best. Now they want everything organised beforehand, right down to the colour of the wallpaper in their flat. But two words of advice: make sure that you’re in love with the reality of Italy and not the dream. Being on holiday is not the same as living here. And when you get here, make an effort to learn the language. I get so tired of people who come out here and complain that it’s difficult to make friends with Italians. Well of course it is if you’re expecting them to communicate in a foreign language in their free time!
How would you sum up your Italian experience in a word (and why)?
“Surprising”. After all, if you?d asked me 15 years ago what I would be doing in 2002, I’d have replied “Cycling around Munich in the sunshine, stopping occasionally for a beer and a bratwurst”. That would have been nice too,but I have no regrets.
Italy’s best-kept secret?
You?ll laugh at this, but it has to be the barber’s shop. Not one of those poncey new salons, but a real, traditional barber’s shop with white walls, cut-throat razors and neon fly-zapper. What could be more relaxing than being shaved while listening to the lulling tones of crusty locals discussing sex, football, philosophy, religion, more sex, more football? In fact, sometimes I’ll grow a beard just for the pleasure of having it shaved off again by Giacomo, my local barber!