The Villa Dragoni is arguably the strangest place I've ever stayed. It is a very grand, classical establishment set in some impressive grounds in Buttrio and is surrounded by quiet residential streets where it is possible to walk for miles without seeing a soul. Buttrio is the sort of place where you can walk in the middle of the road, safe in the knowledge that you won't be run over. In the villa (I have been here roughly 24 hours) I have only seen one other person and she is the person looking after the place, alone. I asked her if there was anybody else and she said no and for all I know, I might even be the only guest. It's hard to tell as I've not even come across other rooms. There are no corridors with numbered rooms on either side and my room (room three) is kind of on it's own with nothing on either side of it, I don't have an adjoining room in which I might find another guest. It's all very strange. This afternoon I found that I was locked in the place. The door that led to the staircase which leads down to the 'front desk' – if that's what it can be called, it's never manned by anybody unless they know you're coming, and only then if you call them. Last night my taxi driver pressed the intercom on the main gate and eventually the woman (that's all I know about her, she's a woman) opened the gate, presumably by pressing a buzzer. When I look out of my window when it's light there is nobody around, the villa itself appears empty, all the darkened rooms are echo chambers with no signs of life, there are tables without tablecloths or chairs, lights are off, nobody is home and yet I'm told there are 12 rooms here and with a convention in town you'd be forgiven for thinking that the place would be choc-a-bloc with guests, a full house even, but if it is, I've seen nobody.
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| The Villa Dragoni, Buttrio, Italy... |
Today 'the woman' told me that tomorrow (Wednesday) breakfast would be served downstairs and not in my room, which means that if there is anybody else staying here I might see them. It's going to be an interesting morning.
I've spent the day looking for the conference venue as I knew it was close by (2km away) but just needed to know in which direction to walk. After a fair bit of faffing around and using the iphone's SatNav (something I've been doing a lot over the past few days) I found it and it works out to be roughly a 30-minute walk through seemingly deserted streets. The well-appointed houses on either side of the streets are quiet and there is no sign of life, except on the Via Nazionale where cars travel in both directions going in and out of town. Restaurants are sparsely populated, similarly teashops, not that I've found many. In one of the latter – let's call it a café as they don't have teashops in Italy – I stopped for a cappuccino and a creme-filled croissant (my new delicacy) and asked for directions to the conference venue. There was a man wearing clothes branded with the name of the company hosting the event and he gave me rough directions which I eventually abandoned, but that might have been because I took the wrong left turn and ended up heading back towards the Villa Dragoni. With dogged determination I set out again this afternoon to find it and find it I did. As I say, roughly 30 minutes. An American woman I met at the location (she lives in Pittsburgh and flew in yesterday from London) told me I might need an umbrella if I'm planning on walking. Oddly, I don't think I have much choice in the matter as getting a cab around here is nigh on impossible, or certainly not at the time I need it. Best to put my faith in walking or even cycling. I know they have a bike for hire and I might take it, but perhaps not tomorrow. Either way, a bike in the rain is definitely off the agenda. Fortunately the event starts at 0930hrs, meaning I can get up early and enjoy a leisurely breakfast before heading off.
This evening I took the train to Udine. It takes all of 10 minutes, but there was no time to buy a ticket so I risked (foolishly) a 200 Euro fine. Fortunately there were no guards on board or they simply couldn't be bothereed to do ticket checks. At the station I met a girl from Albania who worked for the company hosting the event. She had been working in Buttrio for the past four months and I think she lived in nearby Udine. She was going to visit her parents, I was simply looking for somewhere decent to eat dinner and eventually found a really nice, quiet little restaurant where I enjoyed pasta with prawns and pomodoro sauce followed by (foolishly, but then I always fall for it) a tiramisu dessert. I ordered coffee but then realised it would be my fourth of the day. Fearing that I might not sleep I decided not to drink it and instead asked for the very reasonable bill (around 20 Euros). Not drinking alcohol makes all meals cheap although I'm told that some of the best wines in Italy can be found here in Buttrio. It was tempting, but I held my nerve and stuck with the sparkling mineral water. The last thing I want after nearly five years of abstinence is to go back on the booze, back to hangovers and the wrong attitude towards life.
Trains between Buttrio and Udine are few and far between. When I reached Udine station for the return trip I was told that the next one would be in 90 minutes. I couldn't wait that long so I waited (just like yesterday) for a cab outside the station. When I was dropped off outside the gates I fumbled in the dark for my key and eventually gained access, but as I trudged alone along the dark, gravel, tree-lined pathway towards the villa I started to wonder if I would meet 'the woman' or whether I'd have to use the telephone number (which she always answers) to enter the building. She wasn't there, she was nowhere to be seen but the the door was open so I went to my room, up one flight of stairs, and then across an exposed walkway reminiscent in so many ways of those fairground ghost trains where the train briefly reappears to onlookers below before plunging back into the darkness of the ride.
It is strange being here and wondering whether or not I'm alone. Tomorrow will reveal the truth of the situation.
No thunder storms tonight so I guess I'll get a pleasant night's sleep. I must set my alarm to wake me around 0630hrs so I'll be in time for breakfast. At least being downstairs and (hopefully) with other people I'll be able to ask for milk with my cereal. I must say it feels quite weird being here in this huge old building surrounded by trees and lawns and with a freezing cold swimming pool still flaunting itself to those mad enough to consider a swim (there's a huge and very dead black beetle sitting at the bottom of the deep end). I did think about going in having braved the cold pool in my villa last week, but I'll be honest and say that this time (further north as I am) I didn't fall victim to temptation.
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| Far too cold for a swim... |
It is now 2136hrs and unlike conventional hotels, I can't just go down to the front desk and ask for some peanuts or wander into the gym for a spin on a stationary bike; there's no ice machine in the corridor (there's no corridor!) and there's no elevator, nowhere I can bump into another guest and stand their self-consciously waiting as the numbers count down to the ground floor. The television works, but everything is dubbed in Italian and it's odd watching Ray Winstone in Great Expectations speaking in a gruff Italian voice or Clint Eastwood (ironically) in a 'spaghetti' western, a pasta western perhaps.
