On Saturday, Remo and his daughter drove down to Cadignano to show me her car that was for sale. It’s a an older, boxy, blue car that I’ve been told has been well kept because her brother-in-law is a mechanic. To call the car compact would be an understatement. It’s a go-kart with air conditioning.

I squeezed through the door and took it for a test drive with Alessandra, the girl who was selling it, and used the hill from Cadignano to Gova see just what this car had in it. If it could survive the trip and back, it could survive anything.

Pulling the car around the curves took far more strength than I thought was necessary to maneuver such a small vehicle. Without power steering it drives like a tank, but it has A/C, four doors, a windshield, and four tires. What more could I ask for? She told me that it cost €1,200 and I agreed, so I took the car back to Cadignano to hash out the details. She needed the car for work, so she said that I could take the car on Saturday, which is good since all of my money is still tied up in an American account that can only be withdrawn at $300 per day.

On their way out of town, they dropped off their paperwork with the local car dealership in Villa with the intention that I’d go there and buy the insurance for the car and change the title. On Monday, Robbie gave us a ride up to the top of the hill and we took the bus to Villa to do just that. We walked into the dealership and sat in front of the desk of a woman who apparently talked about insurance, but I wouldn’t know because A) The extent of my Italian speaking ability is limited to talking about the weather and ordering coffee and so I didn’t understand a word of what she said, and B) Her vast abyss of cleavage consumed my attention in such a way that the only thought going through my head was, “Don’t stare. Look casual. Don’t stare. Look casual.” For all I know I sold my first born child to science, but I walked out of there with an insurance policy and a wallet €440 lighter.

Alessandra called last night and said that since her insurance has already been transferred to her new car, she’s going to drop off the car on Wednesday instead of Saturday as planned. I pushed the apartment thing to next week while I plot how I will transfer my money over here without losing a big chunk in fees. Western Union wants almost $500 to wire money, so I’m hoping that by transferring the money from Wells Fargo to Karen’s bank account that my money will arrive in one piece. The Euro has dropped to $1.18 and is predicted to go as low as $1.15 this month, so that’s making my day. I can do without watching 20% of my money flitter away into oblivion.

On a strange note, we went into Quara today and stopped at Louisa’s bakery to get some bread. We had all just eaten dinner together last night and the first thing she asked us is if I had talked to my Mom about what we did last night. I said that I had and she began laughing loudly while we both looked at each other with a confused expression.

She told us that she had talked to her Australian cousin Henry today and that, before any prompting, he asked her how she enjoyed her dinner with us last night. A bit confused she asked him how he knew about that. Apparently the news that she had dinner with her two American friends in the tiny one-horse town of Morsiano the night before had traveled from Italy, to my Mom in Texas to Henry in Australia, and finally back to Louisa in Quara in the period of 24 hours.

What a small word it is.