In a recent post, I mentioned the enormous task which we have been undertaking di traslocare (of moving) my elderly parents to an apartment close to where we live. Mia mamma ha ottant’anni mentre mio babbo ne ha ottantotto ed anche se sono ancora abbastanza in gamba hanno bisogno di un po’ di aiuto. (My mum is eighty years old and my dad is eighty eight and even if they’re still quite able they need a bit of help). So, we’ve finally finished the trasloco, and my parents are now fifteen minutes away instead of an hour and a half. They have a nice cozy apartment on the quarto piano (forth floor) of a fairly modern palazzo (apartment block), and there is, of course, un ascensore! (a lift). Previously, when they lived in Lucca, their apartment was on the quinto piano (fifth floor), and the reason I mention this is because I want to tell you about the ingenious method used by i traslocatori (the removal company) to transfer all my parents’ possessions from a fifth floor apartment in Lucca to a forth floor apartment in Pontremoli. This method is very common here in Italy, and it involves an aggeggio (gadget) called una piattaforma aerea (an aerial platform).

La piattaforma aerea is a kind of mobile funicular which the traslocatori towed behind one of their camion (lorries). They arrived as a team of four, and immediately set about their well rehearsed routine with the kind of efficiency that is a pleasure to watch (especially when you are paying!). Barriers and signs were erected in the street to warn traffic and pedestrians, and the platform, now detached from the lorry, was swung into position directly below the balcony. Levers were pulled, buttons pressed, and the telescopic ‘rail’ on which the platform was to run, began its lonely journey up to the fifth floor. In the meantime, two of the operai (workers) had already come up in the lift and started shifting the boxes, which we had spent weeks packing, and the mobili (furniture) towards the balcony ready for loading onto the platform.

After four hours the apartment was a rather sad desolate space, empty of all except memories and echoes. We took with us everything except the kitchen sink! The operai had even dismantled the fitted kitchen and wardrobes, slotting everything into their vehicles like a kind of Chinese puzzle. Stanchi morti (dead tired) my husband and I set off on the long journey home, feeling a mixture of apprehension and relief: the following day would bring phase two, the reverse process of moving everything into the new apartment.

Day two: the traslocatori arrive punctually and once again we witness the same impressive teamwork as the piattaforma is put into action. Not only are the removal men very efficient, they are also polite and helpful, and in the eight hours or so that we are in their company there is hardly a moment in which they aren’t singing Canzoni Napoletane (Neopolitan Songs), except, of course, when they pause for their ‘santo’ caffè (‘holy’ coffee). On the ground floor, directly below the new apartment, there is, very conveniently, a nice bar, and after a couple of hours I noticed an unfamiliar object arriving on the platform. As it neared the balcony I realized that it was a round tray with three cups of espresso on it. The singing ceased, and the two minute ritual of refueling with coffee began, che buono! The tray was sent back down again with shouts of ‘grazie’, and the singing recommenced accompanied by the sounds of electric screwdrivers and the occasional grunt as a large box was shifted, una vera opera per il ventunesimo secolo! (a true opera for the twenty first century!).

Infine, vogliamo ringraziare i ragazzi della Aurelia Traslochi, coiè: Emanuele, Michele, Robert e Nelu.