Poppi rooftops

Today and yesterday the cavalry finally arrived courtesy of the wonderful Gianluca.

Yesterday the boilerman came in his boiler suit. He helped us work out where to put a hole in a barn wall as an escape for LPG gas if there is a leak. Then he fired up the ancient oil-fired boiler in the main house  which roared like an early jet-plane.

The positive side of the boiler is that it works. The negative is that heating oil in Italy is very expensive with greenhouse and other taxes and that it does not heat hot water.

We quickly moved to the conclusion that a fancy wood pellet-fired boiler - all the rage in rural Italy- would be much more economical and environmentally friendly. There may even be some financial incentives. And they can be fired up with a remote control from miles away.

Another item for the budget but some things are better done firstly rather than lastly. The Embra chap we met the day before told us his boiler has frozen solid and been written off and that he was running it off bottled gas.

The beautiful weather has gone and an 'Atlantic perturbation' moved in with yellow warnings for rain. But before it began to pour there arrived Guilio, an Alpine Guide and tree surgeon who lives at the end of our road. We had a long chat about trees and what could be felled to open up the land - alders, those pine trees and a load of scraggly and voracious leylandii that have gone mad.

Then at 11.00 Gianluca and his son arrived with Franco the local agri contractor. As the oppressive and very dark skies unleashed their Atlantic rain we walked the land and talked a strategy of scrapping out and burning the vast patches of head high brambles. He comes highly recommended and as soon as we have some dry cold weather I'll be on the phone to him to bring in his big tracked digger to take on the far field. We may even tackled the almost canyon like 'parcel 9' of land that came with the house that is a deep eroded dell - very much like a Herefordshire 'dingle' - full of a mad scramble of acacia, poplar and swarming bramble and OMB.

The rain revealed blocked drains and a a huge toad (rospo) that had headed into one of them.

The drive back over the pass was foggy and much of the autumn glory in the oaks and maples carpeted the winding road to the Consuma. We were  too late for the supermarkets which, if open on Sunday, close at 1.30 or 2.00pm. But we stopped in Sieci at a restaurant that specialises in wood-fired roasted meats. I bought a spit roasted chicken and a couple of portions of chips to take away.

Back at the appartment the electric had tripped off from the storm but we laid into the food with gusto and a glass or two to finish off another phase of our new life at Ca' di Bati.