New Horizons

Is that Moana's Te Fiti?

So, our furniture was unpacked and everything was in it's place, we'd admired the beautiful views and congratulated ourselves for what we had achieved (not least the 1000 mile journey in a Fiat 500)...but what next?

For those of you who have been watching my stories over on Instagram, you will know that Lugano (or 'Lugangeles' as I have recently heard it termed - love it!) is stunningly beautiful.

It is right on the border with Italy and is described in the Rough Guide as 'less famous than its Italian near neighbour Como, but smaller, cleaner and sexier.'

The Main Town Square

Lugano's answer to the Champs Elysee

Santa Maria Degli Angioli

I am not entirely sure about that, but just looking at pictures of this place is amazing, and actually seeing these views up close is beyond breathtaking. It just doesn't seem real somehow - especially around the lake itself.

But, as much as the weather, the scenery and the scent in the air might try to tell us otherwise, we're not actually on holiday... and starting a new life somewhere miles from friends and family is always going to be a challenge no matter how beautiful a place is.

I knew this of course, but I don't think I was fully prepared for the reality and the first 'normal' week here was tough.

My Not-Sleeping Beauty

Jude was in the midst of a hideous sleep regression when Mr W went back to work after 3 months on gardening leave and it sounds awful, but I was dreading coping with Jude all day and all night by myself. Especially since the rain had been torrential and I was nervous that we would be confined to the apartment all day.

Flying Solo

Monday was definitely a shock to the system but we did survive! Although I very quickly realised that open plan living with a soil eating toddler and a fair few house plants was not necessarily going to be the holy grail I had anticipated from our move to this amazing space (see it here if you fancy a nose.)

He also chose this day to nap for a grand total of 30 minutes instead of his usual two hours but a break in the rain meant we got out for a bit of an explore, even if not for long.

Our Street

One of the local playgrounds

De-railed

However, Tuesday was when the wheels really started to come off. The day Mr W had been swept off to Paris for the night on a business trip. On his second day no less!

Anyway, the sun had come out and it should have been glorious (I mean - how much do we pray to the sun Gods back in Blighty?!) but it wasn't entirely glorious here.

Something wasn't quite right.

People were wearing bubble coats and fur lined jackets when all I wanted to wear was a bloody t -shirt. Clearly I have some acclimatising to do.

Still, I didn't want to draw attention to myself so I bravely put on my leather jacket as we walked Mabel down to the lake.

At the end of my street - what a view!

Just to put this into perspective, it was 23 degrees. Oh, and said jacket isn't real leather - which might have been a slight bit cooler (sheep and cows manage fine in the sun after all)- it was pleather.

This immediately put me in a bad mood as I felt pretty much like a lobster being boiled in a pot, and had a hideous layer of water building between the jacket and my skin. It's a miracle I managed to get the flippin' thing off (think Ross in that episode of Friends.)

It didn't even work as disguise for my Britishness as Jude was intent on drawing all the attention to the both of us by removing his socks and either chewing them or discarding them from the buggy every five minutes.

I wasn't able to keep the socks on with shoes either, as he had also removed one of those previously and it hadn't been seen in days.

It was not yet 11am and I wanted to cry.

Once home, I tried to 're-group' with a brief rest and a quick lunch and then set about walking into town to meet one of our lovely new pals for coffee -this time without the jacket.

I also thought it might be a good opportunity to buy shoes so that the boy could tire himself out by running around outside in the fresh air, instead of from plant to plant in the apartment.

Parco Ciani

The walk in to town through Parco Ciani beside the lake was beautiful and it was lovely to have some actual conversation with a fellow adult once there...

...but alas it was short lived as Jude had become incredibly frustrated with being stuck in his pram and made it known at all opportunities. You know the one - a sockless screaming toddler while you are trying to have a civilised cappucino. It's not happening is it?

I was also unable to find shoes.

That night I felt the lowest I had done in a long time, especially as Jude had a terrible bedtime and I had turned to the gin already. I became convinced I wasn't cut out for being a stay at home Mum.

My lack of Italian language skills was also starting to bother me and without yet having access to a bank account (long story!) I was feeling quite trapped.

Please sir...can I have a Swiss bank account?

Friday was also a bit of a nightmare as we went to 3 different places in an attempt to get ourselves -and Mabel - officially registered.

However, after a meltdown at the final counter (Jude's) it did eventually get resolved and as a bonus for our troubles, we also found a Chicco baby shop next-door and Mr Meltdown became the proud owner of some new hightop trainers.

High top trainers that seem very difficult for him to remove no less!

I'm pleased to say that over the next few days, things began to improve.

I still don't have access to a bank account here which feels a bit like I am back in the 1950s as I am left 'housekeeping money', but I am no longer feeling quite so isolated. I know a few more Italian phrases and can give someone basic directions to the funicular tram. As long as they don't ask me about car parking.

I can also understand the little old ladies who like to stop and pinch Jude's cheeks, which is just as well as this happens to my piccolo bello A LOT.

We are starting to find our way around the neighbourhood, which has such a lovely village feel, and since brunch with one of Mr W's colleagues on Sunday morning (and kindly getting set up in a Mums WhatsApp group) I feel that I might make friends here too.

In fact, I actually bumped in to one of the WhatsApp Mums(with baby AND dog)on my walk back from the playground this morning.

And one thing I am certain of is that although it might not be easy, it doesn't mean it won't be worth it. I know from waiting years to finally hold our baby in our arms, that some of the best won things come from some of the hardest fought battles.

So, from now on I will be pushing myself beyond my comfort zone as much as possible, so that I can feel as much at home here as a part of the afore mentioned furniture...

...or at least so I can ask for some ibuprofen in the Farmacia for Mr W who is already on crutches (don't ask!) without feeling like the village idiot.

Watch this space...

Rxx