I'm buying a collapsing farmhouse because a stranger told me it'd be fine...
... and I reckon she's right.
Sometimes, a chance encounter changes the course of your life.
12 months ago, when me & Ash started looking seriously to buy our first Italian place, my only requirements were walls & roof that weren’t collapsing.
Just to hammer the point home in case you missed it - we’re all enthusiasm & no experience. We’re optimistic idiots.
Exhibit A -
Eight weeks into dating, we climbed the highest peak in North Africa, begging, borrowing & stealing layers so we didn’t freeze to death, because we’d only packed for a poolside holiday.
Anyway, this is the reason I was adamant we needed a relatively small project for our first foreign home together.
But after viewing dozens of uninspiring places, I relented, and went to see the weird little building Ash picked out.
Now, Italian property listings are terrible at the best of times, but this one was a whole next level of confusion.
There was a bit of land here, a room there. I didn’t know if it was two storey, three storey or a single level apartment. I couldn’t tell where the house began and where the neighbour’s started.
It got worse when we pulled up on a freezing cold, February afternoon. The streets of the Borgata were so narrow, we had to park outside the village and walk in.
When I finally did get a glimpse of the building, I laughed out loud.
It was spilt into two properties, with the half we were viewing only marginally better than the half that’d been uninhabited for decades. The render flaked off if you touched it and the roof looked like a light breeze would see it off. There were all sorts of typical Italian problems of split deeds, bits of land that’d been given away to long-forgotten cousins, and parts that were technically uninhabitable.
I’d said ‘no’ before the agent had arrived to show us around.
And yet…
It was in the right location, it had the outdoor space we needed for Wilson, and it felt massive inside.
‘It has potential,’ I conceded, as I secretly fell in love with the domed roof of the cantina and the ridiculously stunning beams in the attic.
We visited two weeks later, bringing along Ash’s mum, Julie, to give us a sense check.
‘We might as well check out the other half of the building while we’re here,’ Ash said.
Up in the attic, day light poured through the big stones they use for tiles round here. I was terrified by the amount of work that needed to be done.
Julie’s boyfriend Tim, is a roofer by trade, and although he’s done dozens of renovations, even he looked worried.
‘I’ve never worked with these kind of stones. I don’t even know where to start pricing it up,’ he said.
Of course, we all know Facebook is the place to go for factually accurate, useful information, so online I went.
‘Hi All, anyone got experience with this kind of roof? The beams are pretty good but there are gaps everywhere between the stones’.
I shared a picture of the place, and another one of what it’s supposed to look like. Then I sat back and waited.
My serendipitous stranger appeared. Living in the same region and renovating on a budget, Lisa Chiodo piped up.
‘Don’t worry, we’ve been here for years and we just jiggle the rocks around after a big storm’, she said.
And with that, we put in our offers.
Yes, plural. We’re getting the wreck next door, too.
Next week, I’ll share my interview with Lisa, who isn’t just some crazy person on the internet, but the founder of the Renovating Italy Club. And I’m forever thankful it was her Facebook group I went to for advice, because she actually knows what she’s talking about.
With her husband, Sam, she’s renovated dozens of places in Australia & a handful more in Italy.
They bought their first project in Italy for €8000 and since then, have added the house next door, a loft apartment, The Army Barrack & Villar House to their projects.
They already run a B&B & plan to open more in their other properties very soon.
They’re experts at doing this sort of thing on a budget & they also seem to be having a great time as they do it, which is exactly the kind of person I need in my life as I count down the days until I get the keys.
While you’ll have to wait for the interview, you can check out all her projects and join the Renovating Italy Club here.
Ciao for now,
Angie