March 12, 2002 - - UCIGNANO, Italy -- DEE AND WARREN SWEET are trying
very, very hard to think of something they don't like about being retired
Americans living in Tuscany...
Tourists, volunteers Mr. Sweet. "There is too much tourism in Tuscany," he
says flatly. Hotels, restaurants and gift shops are not what he moved to
Italy to enjoy.
What's it like retiring to paradise? How does Tuscany measure up to the golden
portrait Frances Mayes paints in "Under the Tuscan Sun," her 1996 best seller
about how she bought and restored a house near Cortona?
Americans who have settled in the region report that it's somewhat more crowded
and much more expensive than it used to be. But when the Sweets look out
their front window, they see a narrow road winding down a valley, past dusty
green olive trees toward the blue smudge of hills on the horizon. No wonder
they don't want to live anywhere else...
Nevertheless, a growing number of Americans have retired to in Tuscany as
well as to nearby Umbria, real estate agents and long-time residents in central
Italy say. In Cortona, near Ms. Mayes's famously restored house, as many
as 30 percent of the residents already come from abroad. Although Faith Hunt,
the regional benefits officer at the United States consulate in Rome, could
not give figures specifically for Tuscany, she said that the number of people
receiving Social Security benefits in Italy had been rising in the last few
years...
"Americans do come with preconceptions about Italy," she says. "There's the
idea that Italians take three-hour lunches and generally don't do a damn
thing. The old dolce far niente."
Actually, the sweet life on the land is hard work. For 10 years, with just
one helper, Mr. Basile tended his 17-acre vineyard himself. Fatigue and some
bad harvest years eventually caught up with him, and now he rents the vineyard
to another farmer. He calls himself a "pentito," a winemaker who changed
his mind. The Basiles agree they would not want to live anywhere else, but
they are naturally skeptical about neophyte enthusiasm for the rugged hills
of Tuscany.
"What's the recipe for enjoying Tuscany as a foreigner?" says Mr. Basile
in his rapid-fire English. "Keep the dollar strong. Maintain your
Alice-in-Wonderland attitude. Remain an eternal tourist."
More than a decade after he moved here, Mr. Sweet, an engineer, appreciates
things about Italy that coffee table books don't hint at. For instance, he
likes the much-maligned Italian bureaucracy, which he thinks is "far less
of a problem than in my home state" and the national health plan. A few years
ago, Mr. Sweet's 89-year-old mother in California had to be moved to a new
nursing home. The Sweets brought her to Italy and paid for her to stay in
a home just up the road from them. When she had to be hospitalized, she was
in a shining new hospital in Arezzo. "There was no paperwork and no cost,"
Mr. Sweet says.
To use the Italian national health plan, Americans must be legal residents
with a residence permit, which means they are subject to Italian income tax,
which can be applied as a credit to American taxes. Those who have a worldwide
health insurance plan can also find private doctors and clinics in Italy,
although for major medical procedures the public system usually offers the
most avant-garde care. Emergency care outpatient and inpatient
is available to all, regardless of ability to pay.
Getting old and needing care is one thing that gives many people pause,
however... "Is it possible to grow old gracefully in this country? I don't
know," he says. "Italy does not have what the U.S. has in terms of long-term
care."
RETIREMENT communities that offer medical and hospitalization services are
almost nonexistent in Italy; the old and infirm are looked after at home.
"Being old in Italy doesn't cost as much as it does in America," Mr. Corey
says. "But there are not many places to go here if you have no family."
Retirement is far off for Betty Sargent, who is also in her 50's and a veteran
of New York publishing. Today she is a partner in Fine Villas, where she
specializes in Italian real estate. It took her five years to restore l'Abbadia,
her house near San Quirico d'Orcia. "Coming from New York, which is a high-energy
city, I'm sometimes frustrated with the pace of getting things done in Italy,"
she says. "But then I think there's something very healthy about it. This
looks to me like a great place to be old. I love the life of the piazza,
the sweet little old men sitting in the town square."
... It's a myth that the Tuscans are exceptionally hospitable; this is a
stern society in which people may go for years without inviting you inside
for a glass of water, Mr. Basile says. "It's not the same in southern Italy,
where the guest is sacred, even if he is your enemy," he says.
It doesn't matter, counters Elizabeth Helman Minchilli, the author of "Restoring
a Home in Italy" and a longtime resident of Rome. Foreigners create their
own social networks. They also restore houses and help preserve a rural landscape
that might otherwise be neglected, she says.
When the Sweets first moved in and were clearing the brush around their house,
they removed a wild rose. "And when the man from the forestry department
came around he noticed that one rose was missing and made us pay a fine for
it," Mr. Sweet says. Bureaucratic nitpicking?
Not at all. That is why this corner of the world is beautiful, Mr. Sweet
says.