Of course! Subsidies are also granted within Italy. But can I, as a foreigner, even apply for them? Especially when I don't even own the country estate?
Never mind. I'll deal with that later. I search the website, but nothing seems to fit. So next, I look for regional subsidies for Tuscany, and surprisingly, I find something.
"Fund for the Revitalization of Original Agriculture," I translate and delve into the application details. The Italian language used is so complex that I can barely understand it. I have to look up words multiple times until I have a somewhat clear understanding of the requirements.
I need a revitalization plan—whatever that is. Moreover, not only the plan but also a cost estimate must be presented to an allocation committee.
The application deadline is… today!
I have neither a plan nor anything else, but I click on the button labeledElectronics Preregistration. As soon as the new page opens, I encounter my first problem.
In the top fields of the online form, I have to enter the name and address of the property owner, who also seems to be the applicant. With my heart pounding, I type in the information—I don't have any other choice anyway. The rest of the details come easily to me, as I have already gathered most of them for Florian's checklist. I provide the construction year, area measurements, condition, and the size of the agricultural land.
The next field is a free-text box. Here, I have to describe the purpose for which the money is needed. Without hesitation, I write about a new oil press, renovation work on the house, setting up a farm shop, and funds for acquiring additional plants. Then I scroll down, filling in the missing information as best as I can, until I finally reach the button labeled "Submit Now."
I exhale with effort. My finger hovers over the Enter key.
I shouldn't doubt myself, but it happens automatically.
Pressing this button means I will have to face a committee and convince them of a project that doesn't even exist yet.
I, Hanna Daydreamer, have to deliver an impassioned speech and risk being ridiculed.
Am I really ready to do this?
"You can do this," I tell myself, clenching my fist.
My heart gallops, my hands are sweaty. But I do it.
I press the Enter key.
Seconds later, a new page appears.
Thank you for your application. Please have a signed copy ready for your hearing.
Your presentation appointment: April 15th, 2:00 PM, Palazzo Vecchio, Florence, Room 12.a.
My heart comes to an abrupt halt. My breath stops.
Oh my God, that's tomorrow already!
With my casted arm, I can't draw up a plan, nor can I drive a car. How on earth am I going to manage this?
