terremoto

    Leslie came around before lunch to take Alex to the post office and mentioned that there were some cracks in our road. She lives and works in London and they have cracks in the roads there but nothing like the potholes and gaps we can generate during a wet winter. We didn't really take her seriously, but when Alex returned she was so impressed she phoned the LeCoste office. They must have thought an Englishwoman has no experience with Umbrian country roads. They didn't take Alex seriously. At around 5, Charlie and I set off in the van and returned with a heavy load of wet sand. We had to bump down about four inches and 30 meters later bump back up again. To me the crack was something I had anticipated for years. The land was obviously slipping down the hill but it was still passable. I didn't take it too seriously, either.
   At suppertime the Italian neighbors called in panic. Dido, returning home, was afraid to drive his Land Rover over the crack. Alex calmed him down and I think we all felt that the Italians were overreacting. Why didn't they have the gusto to take a chance? They have a four-wheel drive car so what could be the problem? After getting little sympathy from us, Dido called the office and somehow convinced Enrico to go take a look.

   Within minutes, Enrico decided to close the road. When I rode up on my bicycle in the eerie dark of my little headlamp, I first saw the ribbon and then, well, a gap in the road; and I knew in a minute that we were trapped. Two cars and two vans and six people. We had waited too long, favoring a nice hot meal over evasive action. I had completely misjudged the speed at which the ground was moving, and standing there in the dark I could hear the slab of earth beneath me creaking and cracking. I returned with the news which encouraged Richie to go for a walk. Despite all his bravery, he too conceded defeat.

    We all slept fitfully. It's difficult to describe the feeling but when the terra becomes not so ferma, it can make one quite nervous. We take for granted that the ground is solid, but it ain't so. Next morning Richie and I walked the girls to the school rendezvous and found Enrico and three others surveying the scene. A rough plan was developed and, after breakfast, an excavator was already at work. No instrument surveys, no environmental impact reports, no permissions from the city, no building permits, no fussing around. Just plow a new road through, but this time higher up the hill.
    Unfortunately, our stacked firewood piles, which we incorrectly placed on the wrong side of our boundary, had to be moved out of the way of the excavator: a hell of a way to employ builders. The combination of poor judgement, bad planning, inaction, stranded cars and wobbly ground contributed to a humiliating sense of "what's the use?" Meanwhile, clever ol' Dido managed to keep both of his cars on the other side of the chasm.

la drama della frana

    Ten days later, the landslip continues to creep downhill. It is a curved bite out of the hillside taking 40 meters of road and three olive trees on the terrace above along with it. The vertical displacement is now three to four meters and a ladder is required to descend onto the old road surface. Remarkably, our phone line, which is buried alongside the road, has not snapped. Slack coiled at either end could be paying out as the landmass moves.
    A new by-pass has been hastily built up slope. We are all impressed by the speed and dedication of a family of two brothers and a father who have a small earthmoving company. They worked Saturday and Sunday and we were able to drive out Sunday evening.
    A meeting was held Monday evening where we were told that the four houses of the Borgo would be handed the bill for the repair. It comes as something of a surprise since these are legally designated Strade Viciniale by the local authorities. We've been told that the 'comune' is responsible but there is no money so they're not going to pay. LeCoste is washing their hands of the affair saying that they have donated the land and that's the extent of their contribution. The condominium will likely debate the matter for months and in the meantime the poor earthmovers go unrewarded.
    The house below us in the borgo has been occupied by occasional vacation renters for the past two years since Sue and Bob returned to Great Britain. Now, a Roman doctor has bought it and we are looking forward to new neighbors, however, there's nothing like a little landslide to make a new buyer get the shakes. The deed didn't manage to change hands before the road disaster so Sue and Bob find themselves in a touchy bargaining position. Enzo, our new neighborhood doctor, has been doing some homework and he's informed me that according to the law, Strade Vicinale that serve single homes or a group of homes are indeed the responsibility of the homeowners. We, along with Lorenza and Dido, the fourth neighbor Marta and Marcello, and poor Sue and Bob are going to share the expense. Sue and Bob have returned from Britain to move some furniture but we've all avoided them, fearing an angry eruption. They've done a lovely job renovating their house, but they've spent a lot of money and the market has turned against them. We've suffered some bad luck with the landslide but for them it's a nasty parting shot.