(Brisa Starr)
We voted this week all the way from Italy and it was so easy-peasy. We did oversea absentee ballots.
The whole process was essentially electronic so no mail service was used. They emailed. We printed. We filled it out. We scanned. We emailed back. That’s it!
I have so much I want to share… from our daily life living in Italy, now that the mandatory quarantine is done, to how I manifested our amazing apartment, to all of the new novels I’m writing and are scheduled to publish.
Today, I share a single picture. It, for me, represents an aspect of quintessential Italy: cobblestone, Vespa scooter, view of the rolling Umbrian hills, historic buildings. The air and awe of Italy.
We booked our flight.
It was canceled.
Cuz. Covid-19. And America’s very, very uncool response.
We rescheduled.
We’re now leaving earlier, August 17.
We came to Arizona to visit Mom Feb. 3 for a 1-month visit. Here we are, six months later, not leaving until mid-August.
Initially, we waited as Italy fought to control the virus.
But by the time May rolled around, and it was getting under control in Europe, America was going downhill. Fast. At the time, I didn’t know if we could even get back into Italy (I have Italian citizenship, Greg doesn’t).
And…
We have not left my mom’s house since March. Greg, Kamea, and I have stayed home (only going outside to swim and walk and bike) but NO contact with the public since MARCH! (Greg suited up to buy a WiFi router when ours konked out, but that’s been our only foray outside the hermetically sealed compound.)
I’m so busy writing steamy romance books I wouldn’t go anywhere anyway. No distractions, no choices. (My mom does all the shopping, and well, Amazon.)
With daily new cases hovering around a very manageable 250 for the entire country, and mask wearing mandatory in all indoor environments, the borders have opened to EU and Schengen area visitors.
An American in Rome
With their robust contact tracing and testing, they’re keeping it under control.
So I thought, fuck it, let’s book flights and get home. To our beloved home, Italia.
Once we arrive in Italy, we are not allowed to use public transportation to get to our home in the medieval hilltop village where we rented an apartment. We would normally take a train from Rome, but that’s not an option. So instead, we’re paying $400 to hire a driver with a Covid-ready (?) van to transfer us.
At least it’ll have room for the 4th suitcase. I have things to bring:
Eye Armor, RAD RED NIGHT GLASSES, non-toxic water-based nail polish, collagen protein powder, new clothes, new beauty products, and lots of books on writing!
For starters, we have been over-the-top blessed with the most amazing landlords. Although we haven’t moved into the apartment yet, they live upstairs from it and have been offering us all the help we’ll need.
The amazing people who own The Beehive Hostel in Rome (Americans who have lived in Italy for about 20 years, I think) also live in the same little town we’re moving to. They’re getting groceries for us and will have our home set and ready for us to move into when we arrive.
This means I don’t need to pack toilet paper in my suitcase!
And during our quarantine, they’ll shop for us every couple of days. How blessed we are! God I love Italy – the hospitality is so glitteringly heartwarming.
We haven’t stayed at that awesome hostel yet, but we plan to many times over the next year, as we explore every nook and cranny of Rome. I can’t wait to write steamy romance novels set in Italy. Mamma Mia!!!
We opted to fly Delta Airlines domestically as they’ve been touted as the airline taking the best precautions for Covid-19.
I’m approaching it with masks (N95 with cloth on top, because N95’s only protect the wearer), face shields, and hats. I’m bringing bleach wipes with us. I’m bringing hand sanitizer. My family is taking elderberry before, during, and after travel (apparently one of the BEST forms of protection), this zinc, and glutathione (all Chris Masterjohn Covid-19 recommendations).
No sugar (easy for this naughty, dirty carnivore gal).
Plenty of rest before, during, and after travel. (My rad red glasses ensure that!)
And? Meditation, filled with shimmery, golden thoughts and visions for health, happiness, and longevity (you know, Happy Sexy Millionaire sh*t). I mean, like, here’s why I’m so happy despite a pandemic.
I’ll update you from the ground in Italy!
One of the ultimate goals in getting dual citizenship in Italy is to get Italian passports.
However, in order to have an Italian passport you first have a carta d’identita that you use to get the passport. An Italian birth certificate won’t suffice.
This is kind of the equivalent of a driver’s license in the United States, but it doesn’t give me permission to drive in Italy. It’s a card that identifies me. You know, your basic ID card.
So, the next step in the process was to get the identification cards for both my daughter and myself now that we have Italian citizenship.
To get my daughter’s, however, not as easy.
As we stood there, patiently waiting for the lady to enter all of Kamea’s data into her computer, she started to get frustrated. Then, the hand gestures started as she used them to yell at her computer screen.
Uh-oh, something isn’t right.
Well, shit. Apparently, one of her documents had a comma between her first and middle name and the others do not have a comma between her first and middle name (just a space as usual).
And? Italy wants these to match! Who would’ve guessed that a “comma” could be such a big deal?
Long story short, the computer system does not like the comma.
So we could not proceed. This is less than ideal because we’re trying to get our passports applied for before we move to Puglia in 2.5 weeks.
We’ll wait and see. We don’t have any other choice really. As it stands now, some people higher up the chain of command need to comment on how to handle this “comma” situation.
It’s possible we’ll have to submit for a name change in the Italian system for my daughter to remove the comma before going for the identification card. I’m told the name-changing process could take months in Italy.
All because of a comma.
Oh well, la dolce vita and all.
UPDATE: Good news. We went to the Questura to apply for my passport and inquired about our daughter getting hers, without the carta d’identita. Well, guess what? He said, “Certo.” (Sure.) Seems (maybe because she’s a minor?) that we can proceed with hers, as planned for December, before we leave for Puglia, after all! I’m not entirely surprised. Oftentimes in Italy, it’s just a matter of who you talk with.