Have you ever seen a guy purposely bang his head off a table? I have. One guy. Four times in a row.
It happened when my wife and I sat down with our newly recruited commercialista, which is sort of an accountant/lawyer all Italian businesses need. He was at our villa for us to explain our plan to open a small-group tour company based out of a restored villa in Torre de’Passeri in the Italian region of Abruzzo.
As we excitedly outlined our dream, his face screwed up into a mask of incredulous bleakness, then he sighed, closed his eyes and slowly lowered his head down over our villa’s dining room table until his forehead rested flat on the wooden surface.
We looked at each other, not knowing what to do. Maybe it was a cultural thing we didn’t understand. After all, there’s an annual festival celebrating cuckholds one town down the road from the villa. So, laying your head on a table during a business meeting might be standard operating procedure.
Right? What did we know?
We plowed on, but as each subsequent point of our plan came out, he started banging his head methodically on the table
“And we will provide all meals,” we said.
Thud.
“And all wine and beer and drinks will be included.”
Wham.
“And we’ll pick the guests up and drop them off in Rome.”
Smack.
“And there will be daily tours.”
Bonk.
Fearing we might be held responsible for long-term brain damage, we stopped.
Silence followed. More silence. Then he made a big dramatic sigh.
“This is never going to work,” he said into his table his eyes still closed.
That was more than eight years ago and it was our first introduction to Francesco Volpe. (He’s on the far left of the picture above.)
From that beginning, you’d expect us to have gone with another commercialista. But there’s something sweet about Francesco. He’s the kind of guy who points to his face and says:
“When I was young, I looked at myself in the mirror, and I knew I’d have to be funny to meet women.”
Francesco on the right with his happy face on.
He's a character; like sort of Rodney Dangerfield crossed with Bad Luck Schleprock. He makes himself the butt of his jokes, and with a wink, you’re in on it.
Just look at the photo to the right. That’s our handyman Franco on the left, me in the middle and Francesco on the right. Look at Francesco’s face closely then come back here.
THAT’S HIS HAPPY FACE!
Once I told him he was being too negative about something and it was annoying me.
“You think you have it tough,” he retorted. “I have to deal with myself … every … single … $%^&# … day. You don’t have a clue how annoying that is?”
He’s playful and charming on one hand; dead serious about his work on the other, and he has become a very good friend and an integral part of our business.
Francesco Volpe has been a great commercialista for us. More than that, he is a wise and patient counsellor for a couple of Canadians negotiating the business culture of rural southern Italy. It’s his metaphorical stomping ground.
The head banging was his way of letting us know he feared that the hurdles in front of us were going to be hard to overcome. It wasn’t that our plan was bad or he thought we would fail, it was that businesses like the one we were describing didn’t exist in Abruzzo.
That’s when we explained to him that we’d quit our jobs and sold everything we owned in Canda. We were past the point of no return, and we were going to try this business idea with him or without him.
He looked directly at us and had one question: “Are you sure?”
We said yes.
He immediately agreed to work for us and, man, are we happy he did.
He guided us through the myriad of hoops required by Italy’s endless bureaucracy. He dealt with building inspectors and licensing bureaus. He even found some staff for us. He got us licensed and open.
Since then, every last bit of advice he’s given us, has been solid. Legal issues, tax issues, staff issues, what wines to serve with what meals, bank issues, even garbage pickup and how long to age the prosciutto issues.
As our business flourished, Francesco shed his bleakness.
Each Saturday morning, he saw 10 to 12 people loaded into vans at our Villa and driven 90 minutes west over the Apennine Mountains to Rome or 30 minutes east to the Pescara on the Adriatic Sea. Each Saturday afternoon, the vans arrived back with 10 to 12 more people.
Actual smiles started to appear on his face.
Francesco started showing up at the Villa in the evenings to see how things were going – and to pinch a free drink or two. You could tell he loved watching the success of a business he had a big part in creating.
So, when it came time to decide on whether or not to expand our business to a second location, he sat down with us and looked at the numbers. No head banging this time. He encouraged us to do it. In fact, he said if we did it, he would oversee the whole process, including projects needed to get any potential property up to speed.
“I’ll deal with all the crap, you focus on getting people booked,” is a rough translation of what he said.
He found us a great location and helped draw up the financials on our business plan. When we pulled the trigger on a 160ish-year-old Baron’s Estate, he lined up bids for renos and found a special arborist to address some serious trees issues. He led the design process with a landscape architect, recruited a gardener, consulted on equipment purchases.
He even found a fantastic tractor-like thing we will use at the Estate to ferry luggage. (More on that awesome machine in a future blog.)
Each morning and afternoon, Francesco takes a break from his office duties and drives down to the Estate to see how things are going.
The terrace is enormous and Francesco has definite opinions on where the tables, chairs, lounge area and pizza oven should be.
He eagerly suggests projects and collaboration. An old gazebo is being spruced up by a masseur who will offer massages to our guests under the whispering trees. Another guy he recruited to do the outside work is going to revive the Estate’s gardens at no cost to us. Instead, the gardener will get half the produce with the other half for our guests.
Francesco spent hours last week working on the configuration of the massive terrace. He gamed out where to put the BBQ and pizza oven, the couches and chairs, and the dining tables.
The guy who banged his head off the table, now grins and rubs his hands while explaining new ideas and how he wants to roast a pig for our grand opening party in March.
He still feels he gets no respect and we still tease him for some of his more doom and gloom moments, but I can tell you, my wife Lisa Grassi Blais and I have tremendous respect for Francesco Volpe.
He’s great at his profession, and he’s never steered us wrong. More than that, he’s a dear friend who has our best interests at heart.
That’s pretty cool, and we thank him for all he has done for us.
-30-
Our handyman Franco knows his way around a can of paint. The solarium is beautiful. I can see guests enjoy a drink while drinking in the Estate’s grounds.