Workaway 3: Parisot, France

Ryan Air wasn't so bad; Rome to Bordeaux. Our car company guy, Eric, was waiting for us on arrival, to show us the new Peugeot that we've leased for 5 months. It's going to be good having our own transport now, and going at our own pace. The 40 minute drive to our overnight BnB was easy, thanks to the GPS, and soon we were pottering around a nice little rural place as we chatted to the hosts, Frank and Brigitte.

Frank had built the best ever hen house, safe from foxes. Their hens must have good balance and a head for heights as they step across the narrow suspended bridge to nest. We slept soundly (beautiful linen), and drove off to the Tarn et Garonne region the next day.

Got to Parisot early afternoon and met our Workaway hosts for the next 10 days. We were so excited to see the chateau, where we have been happily planting flowers, weeding,  trimming wisteria and bamboo ever since. We are living in a comfortable separate house in the grounds. For this one, food is provided, and we cook our own meals. We work 8am to 1pm, 5 days per week.

This is one of the exciting things about Workaway. If you are prepared to take some risks, and to offer your time to people, you can get really lucky and find yourself in a pretty little village in France, making friends with interesting people and being part of the local life for a spell.

You can just see 'our chateau' with the turrets, 1501, in the soft dusk light. 

During the Revolution, as well as beheading people, turrets also got the chop. 

So over the last few years, the owners have had them completely restored. 

We've been exploring the area on our afternoons off. Went to a great little food and artisan market at Sant Antonin, and spent most of Saturday exploring the medieval village of Caylus. 

The only tricky things have been our incompetence at French, and the sporadic access to WiFi. 

C'est la vie.

Lizzie

Medicine Man, Italy style

I returned to Rome, after my country work yesterday with itchy eyes, a sore throat and a cough which has been lingering. Maybe lugging the heavy marble rocks, and the frequent weeding took its toll, in spite of the lovely food and fresh air activities. As we only have a few days before we fly to France, I decided to get medical advice.

In most hospitals in Italy tourists can go to the outpatients and see a doctor free of charge. I walked down to an Ospedale in Trastevere at 8am, and found where to go. A woman got me to fill in a half page of info, then told me where to sit down and wait. There were lots of different uniformed types standing around looking glamorous, texting or drinking tiny coffees.

A young, good-looking guy came in and dropped his bag off, then popped outside for a cigarette. He was having an animated conversation on his mobile. I'd decided he was the doctor, as the staff seemed to defer to him. I couldn't get what his phone call was about, but I hoped it was something like:

"We must act quickly and help this tourist, her condition is deteriorating!  Pull out all the stops, spare no expense, so we can get her back to good health!"
But I suspect it was something more like this:
"Yes, Mama, I got here okay. I did have breakfast - it was a coffee. No thanks I will be warm enough,  I wore my jacket. No, of course I'm not smoking..."

I only had to wait 30 minutes; not bad apparently, even though I was the only one waiting. The smoker/doctor looked at my throat, took my temperature, listened to my chest and refused to give me antibiotics. His English was as bad as my Italian. Didn't seem to want to look at my eyes or ears. Then he prescribed three things which I went and collected, for about 30 euro. Some sort of fizzy sachet drink, a weird tasting throat spray and some eye drops.

I got home about 9am, and my daughter was very surprised to see me back so soon. She'd thought it would take me hours. The only problem was trying to translate the complicated looking instructions in Italian on the packets.

Feeling better already.

Lizzie 

Basilicata, Italy, Workaway 2

Our second Workaway has started, and we have settled into B&B Apricot:
http://www.apricotlucania.com

This region (Basilicata) is flanked on the north-east by Puglia, on the west by Campania, and on the south by Calabria. If you picture Italy as a boot, we are located on the instep, near the Ionian Sea.

In May, this area is warming up from its gentle winter. The earth is fertile in this valley and there are trees laden with ripening oranges and lemons. Our host Alessandra is clever, kind and interesting. She gives clear instructions and leaves us to get on with jobs like staining the outdoor furniture, trimming hedges, weeding, whitewashing and minor repairs. We are helping her get ready for the onslaught of summer visitors that come for the nice beach nearby  (Italian, mostly).

Our days are like this: we get up at 6.30am and make ourselves an orange juice. After breakfast, we start work at 8, making sure we are plastered in mozzie spray. It's beautiful here; surrounded by apricot orchards, old olive trees, gentle hills. There are dogs and cats playing around, and a big chicken coop in an old building with 3 hens and a rooster (that crows at 4.30 am!). At midday we pack up and go inside for lunch. Alessandra uses local ingredients, lots of vegetables. Every day there is something new to try, typical of this region. And fresh bread and red wine.
 
After a couple of hours rest we usually go for a walk, in order to work up an appetite for dinner, and to explore. Policoro is 5kms away, not very pretty, but there is a great museum on the way, and a good gelato shop.

This area has Greek connections. In about 400BC it was populated by Trojan refugees, then more Greek settlements were established in the south (including Paestum,  Naples and Bari). They were overrun by the Lucanians,  then the Roman culture sort of absorbed them. Basilicata was called Lucania until about 11 AD. Then I think it was named after a Byzantine emperor, called Basileus. Funny that, I thought it was something to do with the herb!

One of the best parts for me, each evening, is the conversations at dinner time. We practise our Italian, and hear stories about the family, the apricot business, local legends and history - and recipes, of course. Tonight we're having some sort of potato-based focaccia bread.

Lizzie

Italy, again...

It's 20 years since I first visited Italy; our kids were 12, 9 and 6 years old.

My parents had emigrated from the South, to NZ, and we were keen to see what they'd chosen to leave behind, and how it had changed since their childhoods. It was fun discovering it with our own children, back in the nineties.

So, here we are again, many visits later, but planning to stay a lot longer this time. We are starting off with a quick visit to our daughter Maria's home in Rome. This will be our base between Workaway stints. My parents have passed away now, but our first two-week job is in the Basilicata region, where my Dad was born. I've been trying to brush up my Italian on Duolingo - got up to 45% so far. Now it's time for the immersion test.

With her husband Eugene, Maria runs a business called Creative English
They have 2 beautiful sons. This whole blog is really just an excuse for a proud nonno to put these photos up:

Ciao,
Lizzie's Bloke
(guest blogger)