Hannah’s Blog - The Unkindest Haircut

Tuesday 1st April

I went to what looked like a Japanese-themed hairdressing salon in Alba as it was high time for a trim. I opened the door which hit something with a loud bang. The next second I saw something come flying towards me and much to the amusement of Christian and the salon staff I ducked and covered my head. It was the pendulum of a door chime… I thought that the pendulum was supposed to skim the top of the door not give the customers a heart-attack! I was made to put on a paper kimono (how ridiculous did I look!) and I asked for a trim keeping the same style. The woman washed my hair, set about cutting it and blow-dried it straight which only took less than 30 minutes (the shortest time spent in a hair salon in my adult life!). She only cut the ends like my mother used to in the family bathroom when I was a young girl. She didn’t bother to trim and style the layers! I could’ve done it myself or even asked Christian to do it! It was the worst hair-cut in my life and I now doubt that she ever went to a hairdressing college – I should’ve checked the walls for certificates before sitting down for the chop! At least in the UK you can trust that your local good-value hairdresser can do a half-decent cut! I was happy at the prospect of going to the hairdressers because that evening we were going out for dinner and I wanted to look nice with my hair down and straightened. I was so upset with the result that I wanted to cry so once I got home I jumped in the shower and scraped my hair back once again before heading to the restaurant.

It was certainly April Fools’ Day for me!

Early hours of Thursday 3rd April – Monday 7th April

My boss had this wonderful idea to drive me and a friend of his to Verona, to represent his wines at the Vinitaly fair, in the middle of the night. We went to bed at 3am then had to get up early to have our stand set up ready for 9am to serve wine and network all day until gone 6.30pm. Needless to say that the lack of sleep the first day affected us for the rest of the fair.

As the fair went on, I got to know who were the tourists just there to get drunk and who were the serious potential new importers or restaurateurs. On the Saturday (the busiest day), a couple of young Italian girls obviously from down South propped themselves up on our stand and requested to taste this that and the other asking each time if it was a wine sweeter than the previous one that they had tasted. We became their wine bar (damn my boss for making 12 wines!)… By the third time of telling them that all our red wines are dry red wines (it’s Barolo for Christ’s sake!), I dragged my team-mate outside, while my boss was busy with clients, for a “cigarette break” hoping that the silly moos would move on! It worked.

It was dangerous when the boys left me on the stand on my own and they found it funny – I was inundated mostly by males wanting to taste our wines, or should I say “taste” our wines… If you’re going to flirt with someone behind a wine stand, at least know what you’re blimming well talking about! There’s no worse turn-off than a guy babbling bullshit. I’m no expert in wine but at least I know the basics and a bit and if I don’t know anything I keep my dignity by keeping my mouth shut.

Thursday 10th April

I’ve been running a few errands for the hotel now so I’ve been driving a fair bit in Alba (for now – I may progress to driving in Rome a bit later on in life) and getting used to driving a left-hand drive and being on the “wrong” side of the road. After reading in the Italian newspapers recently about the deaths of pedestrians being hit on zebra crossings I’ve noticed that the Italian pedestrians do indeed trust their native drivers for they simply step onto a zebra crossing without looking, expecting their people to stop for them! In the UK, it wouldn’t (usually) be a problem. I don’t even trust Italians if they indicate (such a rare sight!) for the direction in which they intend to go! To anyone coming to visit Italy, I would say NEVER TRUST ITALIAN DRIVERS!

Wednesday 23rd April

I drove my mother and my sister Karina to the airport in Genoa after they visited for a few days. We were close to the city when we came to a complete standstill as there was an accident that resulted in the road being closed up ahead. Punching “alternative route” into the navigator was useless as we weren’t going anywhere so we eventually turned off the engine. A short while later a rather cute-looking guy from the car behind us came to ask if I could squeeze through the gap between a lorry and a car in the neighboring lane so that he could follow me through and reverse back up the hard shoulder of the motorway alongside the idle traffic to the previous exit that we had passed because he had a plane to catch and needed to take an alternative route. By this time the three of us were all ga-ga over him and said that we were also late for a plane. So, Italian-style, I squeezed through the very tight gap and then let cute guy go ahead of me to reverse back up the motorway so that we could follow him to the airport. We got there in the nick of time. Phew!

I punched “home” into the navigator. It was supposed to take me one hour and three quarters to get home from Genoa airport but the flipping navigator sent me on a wild goose chase on the way home! You see an arrow pointing to the road that you believe the navigator is pointing at but it actually wanted you to take the other road! I strongly recommend that you know the names of the major cities around the towns that you’re travelling from and to before setting out on a journey because I’ve learned that you cannot trust a navigator. I should’ve taken the map that my mother offered to let me have for the way home… It took me 2 and half hours to get home and I drove Italian-style because I was so annoyed, so no indicating, driving at a million miles an hour (or should I say kilometres an hour) and no care for speed cameras. I’m sure that when I next drive in the UK when visiting, I will have forgotten how to drive properly and will be a “mascot” for Italy!

Next time, I’ll pop my guests on a train back to the city from which they’re flying. Anyway, it seems quicker by train in this country because the roads take you around this mountain and that. I know that in the UK to some places it’s quicker by car than by train!

Saturday 26th May

My worst nightmare has begun – again! It’s that time of year when the bees and wasps have started to hum and buzz. I believe that my ex-colleagues will remember some incidents in the office where I have run and closed myself in the meeting room annexed to the office… For many years, my father has told me to stop being a silly girl and sit still if the stinging things come near me. Sorry but I’ve done enough minding my own business over the years and the bastards have stung me for no reason! So if they come anywhere near me, I high-tail it out of the “dangerous zone” with arms flailing – it always works.