After all the drama from The London to Rome flight I had to transfer for my Reggo flight.  When I had boarded my plane in London I thought I was going to have a lot of time to fill in, little did I know. I was off and running again.  Why is my gate always the furthest one away?  When I got to the boarding gate I discovered I had to catch a bus to board my plane as it was parked out on the tarmac. Well they crammed us in the bus like sardines in a can.  Oh well I thought to myself just as well we aren’t going too far we should be off again in a couple of minutes.  I should have known better>  When the bus arrived at the plane we just stood there for what seemed an absolute age.  The doors didn’t open, windows were closed and there was no air conditioning.  After a few minutes of being stationery I started feeling a little uneasy – I don’t like the feeling of being confined to small spaces, and although I wasn’t far from the door I could not move.  I started to do some self talking, reassuring myself that everything was going to be okay and that the door would open soon.  As I looked around the bus I noticed the  windows were now fogged up and the air was becoming very heavy - I wasn’t the only person   uneasy   Finally the doors opened.

When we started descending for landing, my stomach felt uneasy so concentrated on my breathing whilst telling myself everything was okay it couldn’t happen twice in the same day and I was right we landed without a hitch.   It was great to walk out the arrival gate and to be greeted by a friendly face.  Lynne was there with her cousin Ugo.  It was about 7.30am when I left London that now morning and it was now 7.00pm and we still had an hour and a half drive to Bianco.  What a day!

Bianco is a small town on the Southern Coast of Italy (Calabria) just near the toe and on the ball of the foot. It is a beach village/town a place which apparently is packed during the summer holiday period.  Lynne came over here in September, she has been here for about six weeks.  She intends to live here for the next three years.  Although it is the off season and there are not as many people  here there is a lot of traffic.  The drivers are crazy.  Just because there  is a pedestrian crossing doesn’t mean it is safe to cross.  The cars do not stop. As well as looking out for cars great care needs to be taken of the young boys on their motor scooters.  They don’t wear helmets and a lot of people do not use seat belts for children.

I have met some of Lynnes family and they are real characters.  Her Aunty  Lina who is an absolute delight is in her mid seventies and is badly crippled down one side with arthritis.  Both Lynne and I think she was a mountain goat in a former life the way she scarpers up and down the mountainside between her house and the orchard. She keeps telling me that I am  (beautiful) and talking to me non stop even though I have no idea as to what she saying. She looks at Lynne and laughs saying she doesnt understand a word I am saying does she?

The house is old and haunted but absolutely magic.  Some of it is crumbling down like so many of the houses around here.  There is a very large vegie garden which has been freshly planted with this seasons vegetables, cabbage, fennel, chilli, peppers, egg plants, lettuce and more.  Down the hill about  two hundred metres from the house is the orchard.  The track leading down is very steep and rocky not unlike some of the ones we traversed in Spain.  The orchard is huge and contains a large number of olive, fig, pear, apple, oranges, peaches, mandarins, lemons, pomegranate and perssimons plus some chestnut and walnut trees. Under these grow wild chickory and asparagus, whilst winding in and out in no particular pattern are the grape vines.  Nothing goes to waste, they have just finish picking the olives and are going to make oil tomorrow.  Aunty Lina has also been very busy pickling the olives. The figs have been dried. The grapes have been picked and the preservative free vino tinto made.

Being here is like being in Spain, like being transported back in time.  Everything  except the traffic is so slow, nothing happens in a hurry, you just have to surrender and go with it, this reminds me of the when  I was in the early recovery phase after my transplant

Uncle Mario owns one of the local jewellery shops, it used to be Lynnes grandfathers.  He seems to spend most of his day sitting outside the coffee shop across the road. Uncle Mario is chief wine maker, all Lynnes aunts and uncles get involved in making the preservative free vino tinto (red wine), and he gave me my first taste of the home brew as well as a bottle to take back to Lynnes for us to drink.  He also gave me some grecco, which is very much like a port, but white and very sweet a nd I am sure very potent.

I have also met a couple of cousins, Ugo and Enzo and their families. Ugo kindly picked me up from the airport, and allows Lynne ad I to use his internet.  There is no internet cafe here. Enzo has a little two year old son who is absolutely fascinated by me.  We think it might be my colouring blue eyes and light hair.