Surely this must count among the finest opening gambits ever uttered during house price deliberations. Later, in Roy’s office, I joked that the entire community would hate us if we bargained too hard and left them without enough money to pay for repairs to the church roof. As it turned out the canonica, or rectory, in the hilltop hamlet of Bargecchia, was for sale with only the tiniest of gardens so it didn’t suit us. But if outside space is not one of your priorities and you’re looking for a splendid restoration project with spectacular views then give Roy Santi a call at his office in Barga.

We are now seven months into our search for a dream home in Italy, and this is our third trip to view houses. After a disheartening and sometimes farcical week in Campania, during which I fell through the floorboards of a large village house and there was absolutely no let up in the abominable weather, we’re back in the spectacular Garfagnana region of northern Tuscany. A few people have questioned the wisdom of our spending time and money looking at houses way down in the south of Italy only to change our minds and head back north to the region in which we first started looking. But if we hadn’t tried Campania we would always have wondered about it, and seeing other places taught us to appreciate the Garfagnana all the more.

For this latest trip, Georgina and I stumbled upon the chance to rent precisely the sort of house we were looking to buy. This gave us the opportunity to get a real feel for what it might be like to live in the area and saw us foraging for kindling in the woods and bumbling about in the car looking for a supermarket. La Capanna is a beautifully renovated stone cottage about fifteen minutes by car from the town of Castelnuovo di Garfagnana, and belongs to an English gentleman called Vince and his wife Geran.

Car-friendly
Last December, during our first house viewing trip to the region, we were looking at fairly isolated properties and we learned to be circumspect about the phrase ‘a short walk to the shops.’ This time, with our priorities reassessed, we were on the hunt for a village house and we learned to be philosophical about the term ‘accessible by car’. Many villages in Tuscany were established before the existence of cars and it’s very common to find streets too narrow for everything but mopeds and the ubiquitous Ape. It’s an essential element of their charm but it means you’ll often have to leave your car at a communal parking area before continuing on foot with your suitcases clattering on the rough paving, your groceries in your arms and your kids in tow. For many people that’s not a problem but I intend to spend at least some of my time in Tuscany hunched over the engine of a small classic car – so vehicular access, and probably somewhere to build a garage, is a necessity.

So close and yet so far
As well as Roy from Dimore Toscane, we were also once more in the capable hands and appropriately compact transport of Sarita and Mauro Vincent at Italian Property Gallery. As ever they were exceptionally patient and even treated us to lunch at their home near the village of Lucignana.

Among the houses on offer was a hillside semi belonging to Roberto the bank clerk, which smelled of cats’ piddle and had undergone a startlingly bad restoration during the early 1980s. There was also a German family’s holiday home, which had terribly limited outside space and lost the sunshine at three o’clock because of an inconveniently placed mountain. We also looked at a house perfectly situated in the Brancoli hills above Lucca, which had plenty of outside space, 200 olive trees and breathtaking views but which really needed to be pulled down and rebuilt. We visited seventeen houses in all, and in all but two of them I could see potential. However, only one of them met enough of our requirements to warrant serious consideration.

During this trip we also revisited the mediaeval hilltop town of Barga, twinned with, of all places, East Lothian, and we were reminded just how wonderful it is. And it is even more so as the sun returns following a particularly dreary winter and brings everybody and everything to life. Strolling along Barga’s ancient, narrow streets is like wandering through a fairytale. The town has a gem of a bookshop, numerous restaurants, a theatre, a jazz club and possibly the finest ice cream I’ve ever eaten, sold in the friendliest little gelateria. It also has shops, schools and a hospital and is somewhere I would not get bored of visiting. However, while it is all very well to have romantic notions of friendly little villages with a real sense of community, of a beautiful landscape, of fresh air and mountain springs and hardly a car on the winding country lanes, at some point you have to sit down and work out what it’s all going to cost. In Italy for example, as in most countries, there’s a tax to pay when purchasing property. If you plan to live in the house on a permanent or semi-permanent basis, then you can save yourself some money by applying for residency. Purchase tax for residents buying their first property in Italy is just four per cent of the agreed sale price. However, if you’re buying a holiday home, or if you’re not a first time buyer, you pay a full eight per cent of the selling price. On top of this in Italy both the vendor and the buyer pay a fee to the estate agent – usually between three and five per cent of the value of the house plus IVA, the equivalent of British VAT, which is 20 percent. There is also a charge of €168 for registering the house purchase contract – more if you’re not a first time buyer – plus 0.5 percent of the deposit. You’ll need a survey too. And then there are the legal fees. The simple rule of thumb is this: if you’re going to live in Italy the additional costs will amount to around ten per cent on top of the house price; if you’re buying a holiday home those costs will be more like a whopping fourteen per cent. Couples should consider buying in just one name so only one person uses and loses their first time buyer status. Another way of saving money is to bypass the estate agent and buy directly from the owner. There are a few websites offering private sales including the Casa del Sole site, the owners of which you may recognise. But don’t just take my word for any of this. I cannot emphasise enough that we are all responsible for doing our own homework and for researching our potential purchases. You cannot rely on anyone else to do it for you, and no one will give you an entirely unbiased report on any aspect of the process. Also spend as much time in the area as you can before making your offer – a house can be changed, a neighbourhood can’t – and, for goodness’ sake, learn the language. Michel Thomas is making significant inroads into my own illiteracy. I can now say with confidence that ‘I’m sorry but it’s not possible for me to buy anything’.

Village comforts
And so back to the derelict canonica or rectory: As I said, it is not for us because it has such a small garden, but just ten minutes’ walk away, along a winding mountain path, lies the village of Sillico and this little village, established in the tenth century and with just 70 or so residents, could very well be where our future lies. It’s a lively little place with a renowned restaurant and delicatessen and regular concerts in the church and the community centre. It has an annual festival featuring a mediaeval banquet that apparently draws visitors from miles around. It already has a few foreign inhabitants and it can be accessed by road from two directions, although only the dinkiest of cars will fit into the very heart of the village. The house we viewed, the house we may well buy, sits on the south-western edge of town, gets the sunshine all day and has far reaching views of the Apuan Alps. It has beams like tree trunks, ‘cotto’ floors (literally ‘cooked’ clay tiles), hand-carved stone lintels and architraves and cavernous cantinas or cellars. The agent has spoken to the local mayor and we’re waiting to find out if we would be allowed to install a small, tasteful swimming pool – it would not be the usual bright blue, concrete box. We also need to know if we could build a garage on a nearby triangle of land which is being sold with the house.

Italian villages have what is called a ‘centro storico’, or historic centre, within which any building work is very strictly controlled – so we may end up with a hot tub and a car port. In fact we may end up with nothing at all.

Having found such a promising property we took a couple of days’ break from house hunting and drove down to Siena.

There we sat until the early hours of the morning, drinking wine and watching the crowds in Piazza del Campo – the huge dished square in the centre of the old town. Piazza del Campo is where, twice a year, the people of Siena stage Il Palio, a frantic bareback horse race. Riders in brightly-coloured mediaeval costumes are supposed to circle the square three times but frequently get thrown to the ground. It features in the most recent James Bond film ‘Quantum of Solace’. Siena is a glorious city with all the elegance of Florence but a more laidback feel. We had a wonderful time there. It reminded me very much of Barcelona.

And now we’re back home in London, waiting with baited breath and crossed fingers to find out if the mayor will allow us our swimming pool and garage in Sillico. By the next issue of this magazine I might have some exciting news.