Column: an unpleasant experience

'Vade retro, satana!' Roberto texts me. I get an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Probably from the nerves, because I had just written him that the Italian family who stayed with us last long weekend had asked if she could come back next weekend.

'Well no, my dispiace"Another family has just booked," was my admittedly cowardly reply. How do they get it in their head, was my much firmer thought at their cheeky request. Return? After you left such a mess? No way. I'm sorry. Just kidding. "Retrace your steps, Satan!"

A week ago, a certain Giovanni asked us through Airbnb if he and his family, along with a family friend, could stay with us. We said that was possible, assuming it (Italian family) wouldn't work out anyway. And indeed, the questions started again: what about this, what about that, is the pool open, private, heated, what is the price (see Airbnb!), and so on. 

But Giovanni proved more determined than the average Italian applicant and he emailed us to ask if he could call. That was of course allowed. I immediately told him that it would be cheaper if he booked directly with us, which I presented as 'discount', although he would just pay our standard price. Dutch peasant smarts. He called. We were amazingly quick, they really came! The need in their tiny Milanese apartment without a balcony had risen so much that they really had to get out for a few days. So quickly get the large apartment in tip-top order!

Hey, an email, another Italian family interested in the smaller apartment, for Saturday and Sunday. Mmm, maybe we shouldn't do that after all. The privacy of the two families who had rented the large apartment seemed to be quite sensitive. Before you know it, 'hassle' ensues. We informed them that it was not possible. A moment later Giovanni called again. He told reluctantly that he had heard from his friends that their application had been rejected by us. Friends? Yes, it was a family friend who made the application. Strangely enough, they didn't say that. Of course there was no problem with that knowledge. So now also tidy up the small apartment!

Giovanni had asked if they could come early in the morning and they could because the apartment was empty anyway. However, they only arrived towards the end of the morning… To each his own! The apartment was inspected and approved. Oh yes, was the waste separated here? And where did we take it then? Nico explained patiently. We wished them a pleasant stay. We watched from a distance how the corona rules were flouted: the befriended relatives greeted each other warmly with handshaking, hugs and kisses. Well, we made sure we kept our distance.

On Sunday, the Italians announced that they would like to stay an extra day if possible. That was indeed possible. Whether a discount was possible. No, that was not possible again. They stayed anyway and eventually left at the end of Monday afternoon. They were very happy, they shouted, as we waved them off from our balcony. 'Strong ritorniamo prossima settimana!' That was promising.

Unfortunately. The condition in which we found the large apartment was disappointing, to say the least. Between the fridge-freezer and the wall I saw an accumulation of plastic and paper bags, filled with bottles, plastic and paper waste. Everything together. The question to us about how the waste was going was apparently made out of general interest, not to act on it. I decided not to expose my precious hands to their mixing waste in order to sort it after all. It went into the container unmixed. For that I had to take the bags and sacks away one by one because there were either no handles on them, or they were torn or they were guaranteed to tear during transport.

Nico threw himself at the trash left in the bathroom and bedrooms. Lucky him and not me: he found diapers all over the bins. Stuffed diapers. Bah! In the kitchen I found several caked pans on the counter that could not be cleaned even after soaking for hours in boiling water. Why not rinse and put it in the existing dishwasher? The whole counter was strewn with crumbs and grease and I know what all. When I also found dirty crockery in the cupboards, I did not remember it for a while. Where on earth should I start?

After a few hours of toil, spread over a few days because it was a really daunting job, the apartment was finally clean again. Ready for the same families to return? Well no. Vade retro, Italians!

🇮🇹Reading tip: Want to read more fun stories about life in Italy? You can find it in the three parts 'Italiaanse Status' by Stef Smulders, available at bol.com.