The Long & Short of It: Or, How I Ended up in the Bane of My Existence

Life can catch you off guard. It smacks you in the face when you least expect it…
~Unknown

When I advise people about traveling overseas, I always say that you have to be prepared for anything….that you have to roll with the punches….that you have to be flexible….that you have to remain calm and deal. It’s really good advice because things can change in an instant, and you never know when it’s going to happen.

The Backstory

When I was planning this trip, I added in a few weeks to do some research for upcoming groups and for time to work on my own writing. I chose Lucca because I really like the town, and I figured I could get a lot done. For the last 15 years, I’ve rented an apartment from the same person because all of the apartments she manages are well-kept, functional, and comfortable. Unfortunately, this year she didn’t have an apartment available the entire time I needed it, so I looked elsewhere.

I found a nice-looking apartment on AirBnb and rented it. When I arrived last week, I found it exactly as it looked in the listing—spacious, clean, and nice-looking. Unfortunately, though, things turned sour almost immediately.

The Long of It

The gal who met me at the apartment turned on the heat in both units as she showed me around the place. She left quickly, and I unpacked and settled in. After I went to the grocery to buy supplies, I started a load of laundry and went upstairs to lie down for a bit as it had been a long day. I noticed that it was not very warm in the apartment, and I tried to turn the heat on. No dice.

I spent the rest of the evening upstairs under a down comforter, to which I am allergic, but I had to decide between being warm or sneezing and having watery eyes. The next morning, my hands and face were very cold. As soon as I got ready, I went to get coffee to warm up.

At 10:30, my Italian tutor met me at the apartment. “Can you turn this thing on for me?” I begged him. “I’m freezing.” He tried to turn on both units, but neither would do so.

“Call the manager,” he advised. “This should be working as the units look new.”

After Stefano left, i noticed that one of the units had “PC” on its panel, so I took a photo and texted it to the office. The gal who answered told me to set both remotes “on the sun,” which they were. A young woman came back over, and she turned off the power to the whole apartment and finally got both units working. “Keep both of the units on the same temperature,” she told me.

Since the upstairs was warmer (Heat rises) and I was cold, I went up and crawled under the down comforter. I heard a little noise while I was lying there, looked over and saw “H4” on the upstairs unit. I went downstairs and saw the same code on that unit.

At that point, I was ticked off….and cold. I walked to the management office. “I’m Cristina,” I announced when I walked in. “I’m in XXX apartment, and I’m still freezing. The units are going off and have a different malfunction code this time.”

“Didn’t my colleague come and fix them?” one of the men sitting there asked. I assured him she did and explained the entire situation once again. He walked over with me and played with both remotes and units. “Ok, Signora,” he said as he handed me the remote. “I have set it to 30C degrees (86F) which is very hot. You can see that it is working.” He was talking about the downstairs unit only, and he pointed to the leaves of the plastic plant swaying in the breeze.

“Do not use both units, Signora,” he said. “This one is enough to warm the upstairs, too, because heat rises. You will get too hot, so turn this down in a little bit.”

The heat remained on through the Easter weekend, and several times I had to turn the power off and on to get the units to work. On Monday, my Italian tutor could not believe the unit was set at 26C degrees (79F) and it was still cold in the apartment. He also commented that the unit sounded like a helicopter coming in for a landing.

I texted the office again, and this time someone called me. She walked me through turning off the power and turning it back on, which I had done 100 times (not really, but you get my drift). “You do not understand what I’m telling you,” I told her. “It is cold in here even when the heat does work. The units are on the wall near the ceiling, so the heat goes up. The downstairs is cold.”

She gave me a couple of excuses and then said, “It is hot outside today. Maybe you can go out there.”

“I am a writer trying to write about the Pope today,” I replied. “I cannot do that in the street.” For the record, it was 70F degrees, and still a little chilly.

The Short of It

I suffered through a cold apartment all week, which I admit fully was my error. I should have called and texted, but I just do not like conflict.

When I got out of bed yesterday morning I noticed that the unit was off again when I went downstairs to take my medicine. I took a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and noticed that it was not very cold. I took a shower, got ready, and got a drink of Coke Zero. It was also pretty warm. When I opened the refrigerator, I noticed the light was not on, so I checked the ice in the freezer. Water. I felt everything in the refrigerator, and it was all warm.

I cut off the power and turned it back on, but the refrigerator stayed off. I tried it a few times, but nothing helped. I wrote to the office, told them my new problem, and said I expected a phone call immediately. Nothing.

I went for coffee, returned, and they still hadn’t called me. I got an email reply about an hour later telling me they were sorry and that someone would reach out within a few hours. Something in me snapped.

I. Was. Done….Done. Done. Done. Done. Done.

Without thinking, I wrote back and said I was disgusted and was not living like this another day. I threw everything into my two bags, and when I say I threw them, I mean I threw them in. My preference is to have clothes arranged in packing cubes, but yesterday I piled everything on top of the cubes.

I called Michael. “I’m leaving this place,” I cried. “I just cannot live like this anymore. I’m sorry I woke you up.” It was about 3:00 am in Ohio where he and Riley were.

He was not upset I had awakened him. “You need to get out,” he said. “Where are you going to go?”

“I’ll figure it out,” I assured him.

Now, this is where planning for worst case scenarios and remaining calm comes in. I didn’t have a plan as I had rented the apartment for two weeks. When I first started thinking of leaving, I probably should have started looking for another place to go, but I kept thinking things would get better. As upset as I was, I did remain calm and started investigating my options. What else could I do?

Unfortunately, there was not much left in Lucca, and what was there was too expensive. I thought about going to Bologna, but it is too far out of the way of where I am heading next Wednesday. I thought about Roma, but there was no way I was inserting myself into that madhouse. I don’t like Rome on a good day due to the chaos and craziness. The Jubilee is making it more crowded, and the pope’s death has probably made it worse. I’d be catatonic in those crowds.

I considered Napoli, which is where I’m going on Wednesday. Luckily, my train ticket for Wednesday was actually two tickets. The first one, Lucca to Firenze, was a regional ticket, so I could use it on any day. The second ticket is for a high-speed train with reserved seats, and it would be good only on Wednesday. Oh, dear. That sort of left one place.

The Aftermath

And that is how I arrived at a B&B in Firenze yesterday around 2:00 pm.

Firenze, Florence, whatever you want to call it, is far from my favorite city in Italy. There are those of you who disagree and love it, but for me, it is one big moving mass of humanity. The BB is older, but it is clean and welcoming.

My room is small and has a little refrigerator, a comfortable bed, and warmth. The best part is that even though this place is across from the train station and the trains never stop, I slept through the entire night last night and woke up without cold hands this morning. The owner told me I could sit in the breakfast room and write since I don’t have a real desk in the room. And, I repeat, it’s warm.

This morning, I went out for cappuccino, and I sat and watched people for a bit before I took a walk. Throngs of people filled the streets and piazzas, and tour groups congregated on sidewalks blocking others from getting by. I tell you, the four-letter words I heard were shocking….and most of them came from my mouth. Only kidding. I just thought them.

The adventure isn’t over, by any stretch of the imagination. I have appealed to AirBnB for a partial refund, and I wrote to the management about everything that went wrong in there. Management has apologized, and AirBnB is investigating. Time will tell…..