Paul and I arrived in Rome a few hours apart from each other, and in our rental car began the trip south towards Pico. Departing Rome’s Fiumicino airport always makes me smile with the abundant Cyprus trees (which I love) and the highway median strip ablaze with magenta wildflowers. Such a stark difference from the ride to Boston from Logan airport.

Our first stop of the day was IKEA to pick up items for the house (plates, cutlery, cutting board, hangers, pillows, a duvet, pot holders, dish towels and more.) IKEA Rome is set up exactly the same as IKEA in MA or NJ with many of the same lines of furniture.

Our second stop was a small patisserie in Ceprano where we scarfed down focaccia sandwiches with tomato, arugula and mozzarella, an espresso, and a tiny beignet filled with chocolate and cream.

Next we went to what we’re calling “La Casa Pico” — the flat we purchased last year. Paul had previously shared many photos and descriptions with me that I wasn’t surprised by the size and condition of the place upon arrival. It’s going to be great, but we still have a lot of work to do to ensure it’s livable for the future.

After touring the home, we walked into town to help me get my bearings and have another espresso (we were very jet lagged.) Being Sunday afternoon many places were closed, but L’Angolo Bar (the corner bar/cafe we ate at with the kids in 2018) was open. I remembered it from 2018 as it had a little bit of everything: alcohol, coffee bar, a Gelateria selection, a random selection of souvenirs, and a TV playing cheesy Italian pop music videos. 

And what happened at the bar continued to happen throughout the rest of our day in Pico. At L’Angolo, Paul introduced me to Francesco and Giuseppe, a father son duo who served up coffee and small talk. 

Walking back to the apartment I met Biaggio, a neighbor probably in his 70s, who had a lot to share about street parking tips and developments in Pico since Paul had last seen him in April.

We also saw India, the stray dog, and heard her barking at passerby’s throughout the night. Biaggio leaves a few pieces of cooked pasta on the street for India each day. 

A short time later we drove through the mountain, down winding roads for 20 minutes to the town of Fondi where we went to Maury’s and Orrizzonte, two chain stores that are like a cross between Home Depot, Target and the Dollar Store. We purchased a new mop and broom, full size toiletries and cleaning supplies, an espresso machine with pods, a clothes steamer, an electronic mosquito repellant, moisture control containers (mold is a big issue in Italy), two chairs and a table for our terrace, and more.

Back around the mountain to Pico we returned with a car full of purchases. No sooner than we had started cleaning, our friend Carlo came by for a visit. After catching up with him, we spent several hours deep cleaning the bedroom: scrubbing and mopping the floor, cleaning light fixtures, baseboards, and doors to the terrace. With one room clean, we were able to set up an inflatable mattress for the night and we’ll turn our attention to other rooms tomorrow.

For dinner, as we walked three blocks downhill, Paul introduced me to Giovanni, the gentleman responsible for the cemetery and for some reason he was wearing a blue cape, like Superman without the “S.”  Sitting with Giovanni were Mimo, the owner of Piuma Nera Bar. 

And then, upon arriving at Pizzeria Senza Nome, Paul introduced me to our server, Domenico. We chatted with him briefly and had a wonderful meal of Peroni Nastro Azurro beers, a Capriccio pizza for me and a Rucola and Prosciutto pizza for Paul. Senza Nome does a brisk business, only open Thursday – Sunday for dinner (except August they are open on Wednesdays.) They had a steady stream of dine in and carry away orders for the hour we were there.

As we walked back up the hill, ready to call it a night, we saw our friend Carlo and his cousin sitting on a bench. We chatted with them (mostly Paul chatted in Italian and I did my best to follow along) and then another woman arrived who told us about the dozen of chingale (wild boar) at her home invading her garden, and then another woman arrived, and then an older woman (likely 80s) named Ana. Everyone who joined the group conversation in the square was introduced to us by Carlo as the “new entries of Pico”  living down the street and they were very welcoming and kind. The conversation at the Fontana (drinking water dispenser) at the end of our street could have continued for hours but Paul and I were exhausted.

We accomplished a lot on day one, and are already looking forward to day two!