Some houses are carefully planned. This one arrived by accident.
What started with two photographs, a reckless offer, and a trip to a town we had never seen became a much bigger story than either of us expected.
It started the way many questionable decisions do. I was randomly looking at houses online.
It was 2022, and this particular house had already been sitting on the market for about two years. The price had dropped considerably during COVID. I didn’t know Capestrano. I didn’t know the area. I wasn’t searching for this particular part of Italy.
What caught me were two photographs.
The view from the upper terrace and the caves beneath the house.
That was apparently enough.
I sent the agent an offer so low that I assumed he would delete the email. Three days went by. Then came the reply. They would accept, provided I added another 2,000 euros to help with the closing costs.
I said yes.
There was now the relatively minor matter of calling my other half and explaining that I had purchased a house in Italy and that we needed to go there for the closing.
We didn’t actually see the entire house until after the closing, when someone handed us the keys and it officially became our problem.
At first, it didn’t seem too bad. The house needed work, certainly, but nothing that appeared overwhelming.
Then I started having ideas.
Rooms moved from one floor to another. Walls came down. New walls went up. Spaces that had served one purpose for generations were asked to do something entirely different.
What began as a house that “needed a little work” became something much larger.
Some of that was the house’s fault.
Most of it was mine.