We Know What You’re Getting up to Señora

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Today we have two very critical missions to complete.

I’m feeling a bit desperate. If I don’t complete the first mission, I’m not sure Issy’s going to let me into bed tonight. The nearest laundromat‘s nearly a kilometre away in a non-tourist part of town. Issy also has some slightly soiled clothes, but as always seems to be the case mine outnumber hers by roughly ten to one. Hers don’t seem to smell nearly as much either. The laundromat‘s a very sophisticated automated arrangement. You put your clothes in one of the machines, dial up what you need on a screen on the other side of the room, insert some cash, and the machine magically whirrs into action. One gent turns up with only a credit card. I wonder where he’s going to sleep tonight.

They seem to be big on self service here in Italy. We went into an entire large room yesterday lined with vending machines dispensing a vast array of drinks and snacks. At least it was off the street away from the public eye, although that said I’m not entirely sure why anyone would care what you’d just decided to eat or drink. The same can’t be said of the vending machines outside chemist shops. They seem to like to put those ones right on busy streets with lots of passing pedestrians. The middle aged lady who was buying a packet of condoms as we walked past the other day was trying very hard to keep her purchases hidden, but we know what you were getting up to señora.

Whilst Issy sits patiently watching the washing machine whirr around I’m dispensed to complete the day’s second critical mission. They’re big on recycling here in Monopoli, with separate collection bins for metal and plastic, glass, paper and cardboard, “organic” and ”non recyclable”. Our host Enzo left us a complex laminated spreadsheet detailing what needs to go in which bin or bag, and when we need to take each one out. The spreadsheet didn’t come with a mobile app, but I’m suspecting that that little enhancement’s probably not too far off. We’ve failed miserably in our attempts to decipher the spreadsheet, so mission critical number two is to find a bin or bins around town that we can shove all our rubbish into … and we need to do this before Enzo realises we’re too stupid to be allowed to stay in his apartment and kicks us out into the street. It would also be preferable if we could avoid getting arrested in the process. There, I’ve done it, and I think I got away with it, so why am I feeling so uneasy? What if I put something in the wrong bin, or a bin I wasn’t meant to use at all? I can‘t be absolutely sure that I wasn’t caught on someone’s CCTV camera. Hopefully the Carabinieri won’t be waiting at the airport ready to pounce when we try to leave the country in a couple of days time.

It’s been a stressful day.

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