Help: crazy Gizmo on the loose!!

As many of you know, about a year ago Andre’ and I decided it was time for the next step in our relationship… We had just bought our beautiful apartment and wanted it to feel like home. Babies are definitely part of our “plan”, but we wanted a “test baby” first and so on a sunny day in March 2008 Gizmo walked into our life and home. Little did we know a baby would’ve been the easier and cheaper option.

We immediately fell head over heels for our chubby black labrador retriever with mischievous eyes. He was the only one of the bunch hiding under the sofa, falling asleep on his uncle Jason’s hand and looking at us with that adorable grin we now identify as the “don’t-leave-me-on-my-own-or-I’ll-destroy-whatever-I-can-find” look.

The first weeks were hell, but we didn’t mind. It was, after all, a new adventure we had been looking forward to. No matter how often we used to walk him, Gizmo would pee and poo all over the apartment, proudly looking up at his masters after every one of his many toilet breaks. Meanwhile, he’s learned our home is not a 130 sqm public toilet, but some of his bad habits remain.

Gizmo likes chewing. He chews everything, from shoes (including my favourite Morgan stilettos) to chairs, quilts and carpets. His most impressive and expensive chew toys so far include a mobile phone, Andre’s passport (much to the amusement of the public servants who had to replace it for him two days before he was due to leave on a business trip), a remote control, two pairs of glasses and my lemon tree.

Another issue is his jumping craze. He’s always liked jumping up at visitors to express his joy at welcoming them into our (or should I say “his”?) home, but lately he’s become like a high jumper, aiming for our face and trying to attack joggers in the garden.

Walking is supposed to be the easiest thing to teach a lab according to our specialised book… We’ve tried all possible chains, collars and harnesses on the market, nothing seems to stop Gizmo from dragging us along. I weigh only a few kilos more than him, so walking him is quite a feat, to say the least. Once I was nearly hit by a car, another time I fell and bruised my leg.

Despite what everyone thinks, we really do try to train him. We scold him whenever he does something we disapprove of, but somehow he just won’t understand. He thinks it’s all a game… and every chase and punishment turns into a face-licking session. We’ve heard of obedience classes in Malta being organised on Wednesday evenings, but to be honest we’re exhausted after a day of work and the last thing we want to do is break an arm trying to keep Gizmo from chasing all his “classmates”.

Any tips or ideas? Any similar experiences? Help us, we’re at our wits’ end…

Italy vs. Malta: account of an Easter break

Being half Italian, I love spending my holidays in Italy. Andre’ and I try to go to Northern Italy twice a year to enjoy the good food, wine and company of friends and family. Last week we had a great Easter break in the Veneto region.

We’re frequent travellers and we’ve tried quite a few airlines over the years. We love Air Malta, because it’s efficient and offers a great service, including in-flight meals, a luxury nowadays. However, as our destination is serviced by a low-cost airline and Air Malta’s prices have failed to drop despite the financial crisis, we’ve had to lower our standards and go for the cheaper option: Ryanair.

I’m not a fussy traveller, but I like comfort and efficiency. Ryanair is known for its no-frills service, but is reliable in terms of timeliness and baggage handling. Its passengers, however, still have a lot to learn! Ryanair doesn’t assign seat numbers, which is acceptable given its low fares (mind you, not always… book late and you’re stuck with higher prices than scheduled flights, partly because of all the additional costs: checked-in baggage, credit-card payments etc.). The Maltese are known for their orderly attitude towards queueing: they form a straight line and patiently await their turn. The Italians, however, tend to be a little more… how shall I put this? Pushy, literally! And once they’ve showed their boarding card at the gate, they break into a sprint… because you never know… the plane might just take off without them!

Suitability as travel companions: Italians: 0 – Maltese: 1

Andre’ and I spent our holiday at my parents’ house, in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by hills. We love it there: the weather is great, the people are amazingly friendly and the food is fresh and delicious. As we both work with computers all day, we were looking forward to a week without internet access… It was not to be. My father has been trying to get internet access in our holiday home for years and this year, after our neighbours had finally managed to secure their adsl connection, he was determined not to leave without an active connection. He had heard about “internet keys”, a kind of USB contraption which is quite popular in Italy. We signed a contract for a “chiavetta Tre” and kept our fingers crossed. After six days of phoning the help desk and several trips to the outlet which sold us the device, we had to give up… No refund, despite all the European regulations which supposedly protect consumers, no explanation as to why the gadget just won’t work and no apology for the crappy service…

IT and customer care: Italians: 0 – Maltese: 1

Pizza… it’s our favourite food! And what better place to enjoy it than Italy? Think again! On Easter Monday we decided to go for a stroll in Padova, where we had lunch in a La Lanterna, a pizzeria in one of the main squares. The prices were average, the interior below average and the food simply disgusting: soggy and tasteless. Then the coup de grâce: burnt espresso. After a long walk to digest that inedible goo, we went to one of the best ice-cream parlours in the city centre for a slush… or so we thought. We were given a plastic cup containing coloured liquid with lemon flavour. No ice anywhere in sight.

Pizza and ice cream: Italians: 0 – Maltese: 1

We had a great holiday. We love Italy and are definitely looking forward to our next trip in summer, but we must admit we were very relieved when the plane touched ground in Malta and all the passengers clapped their hands… the Ryanair tradition. Or maybe just a way to say “thank God we’re home”.

Sludge

I love coffee. No, correction: I’m totally addicted to coffee. I spent half a year studying in Italy, where I used to drink seven to eight espressos a day. The result: I couldn’t sleep and I was moody most of the time. Upon my return home, I swore off the black “sludge”, as Ed, one of my dear friends, calls it… but not for long. I just couldn’t resist.

Malta, as a former British colony, is more of a “tea nation”. Then again, our little rock lies just beneath Sicily, so espresso – the “real” coffee – is readily available. Not all bar attendants are familiar with the different types of espresso, though. Once Andre’ and I went to Birgu for cake and, you guessed it… a nice espresso. It had been a very long day, and we needed a caffeine kick, so we ordered an “espresso doppio” (a double espresso). Unfortunately, something went wrong in the preparation and I ended up sipping a thick insoluble mix of ground coffee… Not very appealing.

My friends don’t understand my coffee addiction (and let's face it, Andre's quite fond of the black sludge too). When they invite us for dinner, we have to take our Bialetti coffee maker with us. Why? Because we refuse to drink tea after eating (not the ideal drink to digest a good meal, but nice with scones on a cold winter afternoon) and we absolutely hate Nescafé (how was that ever labelled as coffee?).

In the end, living in a country where the British and the Italian culture go hand in hand, we have the best of both worlds: afternoon tea and morning coffee (I’m not referring those awfully dry “Morning Coffee” biscuits here!). And the best part is: all the great Italian brands can be found in any supermarket (Lavazza, Illy, Segafredo…). What more can a girl ask for?