From Flight Cancellations to 'Sh#t Field Fires': My Unexpected Journey to Find My Dream Home in Mussomeli

I planned a trip to Mussomeli to search for my dream home.

Actually, I just wanted a decent home but found so much more. The trip had some ups and downs and hiccups but ultimately it was a success.The first obstacle arose when I received an email from the airlines, informing me that my flight to Italy was canceled due to a labor strike.  This happened 15 minutes before I was departing for the airport. I contacted the airline and managed to book a flight for the next day. This was my first test of patience. I have since learned that strikes in Italy are often planned in advance and you can find the upcoming dates online.The following day, I embarked on my flight, which included layovers in Atlanta and Rome, before finally landing in Palermo. Although I had hoped to get some sleep during the journey, I never can on planes. To add to that, I had to rent a car and drive for an hour and a half. The rental car was tiny but the same size as the other cars on the road. I felt like I was maneuvering a go-kart course, with cars zooming past me. Initially, the driving seemed chaotic, but I eventually adapted to it.

The drive to Mussomeli offered breathtaking views and unexpected surprises.

I happened to visit during the time when they were fertilizing the crops, which includes setting the fields on fire to enrich the soil. The fire fumes and manure irritated my senses and even made my eyes water. It was a crazy, new experience, which I jokingly referred to as "shit field fire day".While passing through a few towns, I couldn't help but hope they weren't Mussomeli. They appeared too small and dreary. I wished I had someone with me to talk things through, asking questions like how much farther, if I was being crazy, why there were fires everywhere, what certain signs meant, if the location was too far from an airport, if there was a better route, and whether the GPS was even working. They wouldn't have had the answers but having someone with me would have been comforting.

Finally, I reached Mussomeli, and it felt deserted.

I thought to myself, "This must be why they want people to come here. It's cheap because it's a sleepy town." What I didn’t realize is they take the lunch time period VERY seriously. It wasn’t a ghost town. It was a town observing lunch time with their families and relaxing. This is why I came. Family, community and a pace of life that encourages you to be present. This lunchtime period typically lasts from 1 pm to around 4 pm, and some places start opening at 3 pm, while most restaurants reopen at 8 pm.After checking into my hotel and quickly freshening up, I met with the realtor. Originally, I had planned to take a day to rest, but due to the flight cancellation, I had to rush. In hindsight, it was a bad decision not to reschedule the appointment, as I was utterly exhausted. When I saw the house I was interested in, it turned out to be smaller than I had imagined. I hadn't seen other Italian homes to understand their layout and the concept of separate rooms instead of open spaces. Despite feeling overwhelmed and unable to fully absorb everything, there were still many aspects I liked about the house.Feeling deflated and famished, I returned to the hotel at 6 pm, only to find that the restaurants were closed, and I had no idea where to find a store. I didn't feel like walking either. In my desperation, I ate all the sugary snacks from my luggage and called my family.I left them voice notes throughout the day, describing the challenges I faced, including the "shit field fires" and jokingly comparing it to a zombie apocalypse before my arrival. Naturally, my family became concerned upon hearing these updates. Finally, when the time difference allowed for a conversation, I spoke to my sister, brother, and son about my decision. I told them that I would give it another day in Mussomeli and then consider either exploring other parts of the island for a vacation or flying to Rome for the remainder of the trip. Buying a house in Mussomeli was no longer on my mind.But somehow, against all odds, everything turned around, and I found my dream home. Now the question arises: How did this happen?