Settling into the Apartment

Massimo was a congenial Italian man in his forties who had worked up quite a sweat.  He showed us around the apartment, which was large and in the Italian minimalist style, meaning stark, white walls, parquet floors, ultramodern lighting fixtures and a lock system that would confound Houdini.

No one could get past this door, once the key was turned and the heavy deadbolt slid all the way across and locked into place.  We felt safe.  In addition, two other keys were necessary, one to  open the heavy door at street level, which let you into a large courtyard where residents parked their cars; and another to let you into the apartment building itself.  A short flight of stairs took you to the first landing and the tuna-can-on-a-string elevator.  Whenever we stepped into the coffin like space and the door creaked close and the elevator dropped about six inches and we crossed ourselves,  we questioned whether we should start spying or just proceed with our vacation.

A nap with the air conditioning blowing on us full blast, revived our spirits.  Massimo had told us about the minimarket nearby, so I went out and stocked up on milk, fruit, yogurt and a sweet pastry for our breakfasts.