Auto-lavaggio

Today is June 28, 2012 and it is another glorious morning here in Mezzegra, Italy.  I continue to wake up quite early and today is no exception.  Not really a problem however because I have a quick cup of coffee, throw open all the doors and windows and let the beautiful sunshine filter in and at the same time enjoy the early morning breeze.  We have been experiencing very warm afternoons and quite a bit of humidity so the mornings are extra special.  After parusing the internet for the overnight news, sports, and stock market closing I usually lie down on the very comfortable couch and do some reading on my Kindle.  A Kindle is great device here since Joan and I no longer need to lug over a heavy stack of books.  I have found some great bargins on Amazon for the Kindle (some completely free and some in the $2 range).  Not famous authors but still books which are entertaining and enjoyable.  Murder mysteries, WW2 stories, and such. Joan will spot topics I might enjoy and surprises me with new titles also. I’m easily entertained. 

My brother Pat and his wife Leanne have landed in Frankfurt this morning and will be leasurely driving down to see us arriving sometime tomorrow afternoon.  We are looking forward to seeing them.  This will be the first leg of a four week tour for them with the current plan of spending most of their time in southern France.  Pat and I are heading out Monday morning to play golf at the Cadenabbia-Menaggio Golf Club just seven miles from the house. It is a very hilly but a magnificent layout with outstanding views.  I really don’t care what I shoot but since I have been playing twice a week in Phoenix for sometime now I expect a decent round.  The results will be posted in a later blog. 

Joan had mentioned in an earlier entry that we finally washed the new car in Lenno, a small town next to Mezzegra. After 1500K it was a total mess.  I found an automatic car wash that was very slick indeed! A simple process, really. You position the car in front of the machine, get out and select the process you wish (I paid for the 9 Euro deluxe wash) put your money in and stand back and watch.  I pushed the button and……nothing!! Of course all the instructions are in Italian so I was a bit perplexed. Next thing I know there is an old man yelling at me, “Rosso, Rosso, Rosso!!”  I’m thinking, “the car is sliver why is he yelling Red, Red, Red? I sort of wave to him and he continues to repeat himself. I look at the machine and there is a green light on but there is an unlit red light.  I look back at him and he motions that I must pull the car up closer to the device.  In I get and creep forward and, bingo, the red light goes on.  A big smile from my Italian friend but I know he thought I was just another foreign idiot!  With the red light on I pushed the start button again and the machine did its job.  Facinating to watch and what a beautiful job when completed!  I was proud of my accomplishment, moved the car for the next customer, dried off a few wet spots and went back to the house.

The next day (yesterday morning) we decided to drive to a major indoor outlet mall in Switzerland for a little shopping and lunch.  Mendrisio is only 40K from the house, a nice drive and an easy crossing of the border. At least it is normally easy. We crossed the short “no man’s land” fifty feet between the boarder check points and the Swiss said “Halt!”.  Yuh oh, this isn’t good. Our front license plate was non existent!  One must understand we are crossing at a remote spot, not the big Autostrada (Douane) boarder. Not a lot of English spoken here. Anyway there is a big concern about the missing license plate but after showing our papers (passport please!) they let us through.  But what happened to the plate?  My immediate reaction was that some Italian decided to remove it for a souvenir and that was the end of that. It’s a special plate that clearly indicates it’s only good for two months but is recognizable by boarder agents as very valid and belongs to a foreigner who took a European delivery. This was going to be a continual hassle because not only do the local police pull you over indiscriminately but the “financial  police “ pull the Italian citizens over to find out how they can afford an expensive car like ours.  They match up poor Tony’s tax records with the price of the car. If it appears Tony can’t afford such a car on the basis of his tax return he has very big problems. With no front license plate we were looking at an annoying four weeks in front of us. At this point Joan questioned whether the plate fell off during the washing process. Possible, but very doubtful!  

After our outing at the mall we headed back to the house knowing we needed to pass the border back into Italy. I’m anticipating another problem and I wasn’t disappointed. The Italian agents were none too pleased about a plate missing.  I gently say, “do you speak English and he says, not so gently, “no and pull out of line and park your car over there!!” His non English was very clear.  We waited a minute and another guy comes over and I hand the paperwork over to him while getting out of the car to try explain the problem.  I simulate with my hands the plate falling off the car while driving.  He looks at me with a suspicious eye, looks at the paperwork, looks at the rear license plate and finally says what I interpret to be, “get the hell out of here and don’t come back”. We were back in Italy at last. We decided to drive to the car wash on the off chance that it did come off there. I mean, what were the chances if it did fall off there that it would still be there 30 hours later?  There was an attendant present (not there the day before) and I approached him with our issue.  He looks at me with a smile and in very broken English says that, of course, he found the plate and gave it to the local “policia”.  I’m thinking, are you kidding me???  He directs me to the police station and we go in.  Very quiet but we do find a gentleman who speaks English (somewhat). He understands what we are looking for and telephones a cop in a police car and informs us that he’ll be here in a couple of minutes. After some confusion (I think he thought we were there to surrender for some horrific crime) he understood the issue.  No English but a big smile.  He comes out of a room with the missing plate and then proceeds to take a photo copy of all our documents (why, I have no clue) has me sign the copies and hands over the plate. It had been adhered to the car with heavy two way tape and had come loose when the deluxe washing had scraped it off with the “brushless” brushes.  Today we look for some more tape, the extra strengh variety.  Never a dull moment.