Saturday 9th September (day 41)
We were up and out of the apartment on time, despite the late night (again) last night! Very quickly we were in a taxi on our way back to the carpark to meet Daniel and collect our camper. I have to admit that I was very nervous about this rendezvous, because we had handed over many thousands of dollars to a company in the Czech Republic to hire a camper one way (Barcelona to Venice), with unlimited kilometres and maximum insurance protection. Sounds too good to be true right? But my year long worry (yes, we booked it more than a year ago) was unfounded. When we got to the carpark, Daniel was there, waiting for us with Luigi the Czech camper (he’s a Fiat). After a quick handover, a checklist sign off and a holding deposit (more money), we were on our way for 9 nights driving to Venice. While I have loved everything we’ve done up until now, this is the part of have been looking forward to the most! On the road again …
So the plan for today is to get to Carcassonne and visit the walled city. But first we had to get out of Barcelona, which JB did with ease, and drive more than 300km. Our first attempted stop was a tiny village called Fellines were I intended (as the navigator) that we would make a coffee and have some breakfast by the village church. I didn’t account for either the tiny roads that we would encounter, despite being moments off the motorway, not the nature of the village. We almost scratched Luigi within a couple of hours of collecting him! And then there was our nerves. Somehow we made it through the village and back onto the motorway, and found another more accessible village and castle a bit further down the road at Orielles. We only stopped at the castle for coffee and peanut butter toast, before driving on to a service station to switch drivers. My turn for a drive of this beast. What could possibly go wrong?
For context, Luigi is a motorhome, so much bigger than my little convertible. He is also a left hand drive and a manual. Here we are driving on the “wrong” side of the road. So my head was saying “keep right”, and “the gear stick is on the other side but the pedals are like normal”, and “why am I in the fast lane?” and “why can’t I read the signs”. Then all of a sudden, with us doing at least 110kms in the centre lane, a car pulls out of traffic that is queued to exit the motorway! I could hardly believe it, then JB braced and I did what I have done for years, and drove the vehicle out of the way. I braked hard but not too hard, and I swerved out of my lane but not too far, and somehow there was no impact, either in front or from behind! How we avoided any kind of accident is honestly amazing. Needless to say I was shaken up and my voice broke, but I got it together and kept going, taking us all the way to Cacassone, in France, via tollways (which are anything but cheap).
While I was busy saving our lives, JB was busy finding us our first campsite. He chose a roadside pizza restaurant, that is housed in a bus, and allows camping in the paddock, perfect for us, especially as they have a shower and a toilet, more than we expected to get! We took the opportunity to arrange the camper and our gear, making the bed and unpacking our clothes, and generally making ourselves comfortable in Luigi the Czech camper for the next 9 nights. With all of that sorted we were ready to head out and explore Carcassone castle. Castles seem to be featuring in this holiday, right from the palace all those weeks ago in Prague, to the castles we saw all across the UK, and now in France. This one is amazing, situated within a completely walled city, that now houses all sorts of shops.
Arriving later in the afternoon worked very well, as we could get a parking spot and we weren’t shoulder to shoulder with crowds. We discovered that like many other places, it has been rebuilt, or at the very least restored, so it looks appealing but isn’t all original. That’s ok, because in a few hundreds years the restoration done now will be “old” and will have saved it.
After our walk around the site we stoked up the camper with fresh food and wine and beer from a local Lidl. I don’t think these existed back when the walled city and the castle were built. Back in the paddock we ended the day with piping hot pizzas, cold wine and gin, and a beautiful northern hemisphere night sky. To top it off, Elon sent the satellite train right past us. It was amazing to see! Day one in the Luigi the Camper is done. Here’s hoping day 2 is less eventful.
Sunday 10th September (day 42)
After a very good sleep, safely locked in the paddock, we were up and on the road by just after 10am for another big, but far less stressful drive. I took the reins first and got us to service centre, where we swapped over and JB drove the rest of the way to Rocamadour. This place is way off the direct route to our final destination, but it’s one of the main reasons we are in a camper, doing this road trip. We’ve hit some narrow roads today, windy through the countryside to finally find the little village hanging from a cliff side. But we found it too soon, having overshot our camp site. Turning around proved to be a challenge, as did winding our way along tiny rural lanes to Chez Gaby. However, we found Gaby herself, who seemed very happy to meet us, and offered us a grand spot with power for the night (and happily accepted a koala too), and then we headed back out to visit the hanging village.
Somehow or another, using the narrowest roads we’ve ever been on, we managed to descend to the bottom of the opposite side of the thin valley and ascend on the other side, way above the village, where we found a carpark and enjoyed a late lunch, on the heat of the tarmac. Not what I had hoped for in such a picturesque place, but with our bellies full, we headed off to fully explore the village. Being at the top, meant we wandered down, passing the stations of the cross along the way (in the reverse order). Everything is built into the cliff side, and hangs over the top of whatever is below it.
We don’t have anything even remotely like this beautiful town in Australia. We do have whole towns that are underground, like Coober Pedy and Whitecliffs, but they are not pretty or comfortable to be in. This town is not just pretty but it’s also very easy to be in.
We spent the afternoon wandering all the way down, spending time in the chapels and shops. It’s obviously been, and still is, a very religious place where people come to ask God to help them with all sorts of things, including their fertility.
I am so pleased to have been here, and I really hope they ride through here again on Le Tour so I can scream at the TV “I’ve been there, I’ve been there!”. I can’t believe I’ve been to Rocamadour! If you’re ever in France, you should absolutely go to Rocamadour, even if it means going miles out of your way. It’s so worth it.
Thanks to these beautiful long summer evenings, we arrived back at Chez Gaby in the early evening, carefully navigating the narrow roads and stone walls, to park in our sweet spot, ready for a couple of cold beers, watching the sky darken and the increasingly familiar stars emerge. (video of the drive in) I am in love with France already.
Monday 11th September (day 43)
In the interest of getting the most out of each day, we have decided to set an alarm for 07.00 to 07.30 each day (depending on how late we go to bed, and how tired we are). So, today we were up and on our way from Gaby’s by 9am. The day involved a huge drive back towards the coast, along the motorways and over the Viaduc De Millau. Despite it’s sheer size and impressiveness, the viaduc was upon us before we knew it, so we missed the opportunity to pull in to the viewing area and have a look. Naturally, I clenched my pelvic floor as I drove over it, afraid that for some reason I would drive off the edge of it (not possible), despite it being a masterpiece of engineering. Once we were over the stunning valley, we had a major descent, unlike anything I have ever driven before. The road wound around slowly, the speed limits changed and we passed through mountains (via tunnels). It was a huge drive in so many ways.
Eventually we arrived at our beautiful destination, Chateau de Fourques. They offer a free place to stay for fully self contained travellers. And what a place it is! We (actually it was me) chose a gorgeous spot beside an olive tree and were eating salad under its shade within minutes. At 3pm the chateau outlet opened, so we wandered over to say thanks to our gracious hosts, taste and buy some of their outstanding wine, and gift them a koala.
Our day was rapidly evaporating, but in the late afternoon we headed down the road on foot, to catch a bus, to catch a tram, into Montpellier. The public transport system was once again easy to use, and within the hour we were wandering the streets of the city, following a GPS My City self guided tour. The first part, around the Placa de la Comedie and the gardens was quite sketchy (as The Piper would say), but after that it vastly improved. We enjoyed a look into the cathedral, a squizz at one of Europe’s oldest medical schools (adjoining the cathedral), and a well deserved rest at the aquaduc, nearby to Louis XIV on his brave stallion, and the Arc de Triomphe. These Arcs are becoming increasingly frequent. The walk took us a couple of hours, by the time you add in a beer, and it allowed us to meet our step target for the day, it also gave us a glimpse of Montpellier, somewhere that has such a pretty sounding name, and has some interesting things to see. I am glad we persevered with the tour and saw the best of the city.
Our tour and the trip back to Luigi consumed the rest of the daylight, and we arrived back at the chateau (how posh does that sound?) as the sun was setting. Fortunately our wine was deliciously cold and complemented our eggs on toast, under the olive tree, perfectly. It’s the little things, right? I am loving becoming more familiar with the northern hemisphere stars and constellations. It is amazing to gaze upwards and see new things.
Tuesday 12th September (day 44)
Today involved another, but hopefully the last, big drive. Getting out of Montpellier itself took a bit of doing, and we found ourselves in some tiny streets, in a village on the edge of the city. I was driving! Aced it though. Eventually we found open roads and then motorways. A word about these. They cross the country and cross borders. The are dual carriageways, with 3 lanes, where of course everyone is keeping right. They are full of trucks, all speed limited to 90kms, despite the speed limit being 130kms. So there is a lot of keeping right, followed by overtaking on the left, then keeping right. It takes a while to get used to. Then there are the toll gates. No tech here. You have to queue to take a ticket, drive until you exit and then queue to pay, based on the road type, how far you travelled, and your vehicle type. It a bit like whacky races after the toll is paid, with a huge road narrowing like a funnel, back down to 3 lanes. I have found it tricky, as my left shoulder is knackered, so I need to use my right arm to reach across myself, out the window and to the machine. I have devised a strategy that involves slipping the sash part of the seatbelt over my head, making sure Luigi is in neutral, making sure I don’t rev the engine to the extreme, pulling up as close as possible without folding the mirror (oops), and gabbing the ticket, or inserting the ticket and waving the card. Way harder than it needs to be! I can see why there are tolls though, the roads are very good, however it is with noting that each day driving these roads in France has cost us about €40. Worth factoring into the budget!
Eventually we were off the motorways for today, but into some of the smallest, narrowest, windiest and hilliest streets in France, in the hills and mountains behind Cannes on the way to our campsite near Tourette Sur Loup. Luigi, JB and I were all glad to arrive in one pice and scratch free. If we get Luigi home without a dent or scratch it will be miraculous- thank you Madonna! The campsite was deep in these hills and as hilly as the land we had traversed to find it, but it was worth the effort. We chose a site and had some lunch in the shade, then headed off on a walk to Tourrette Sur Loup. We initially intended to walk along the roads, but there were signs just outside the campsite that pointed the way for walkers. So, we followed these, ending up deep in a wood, finding a partly demolished via duct, climbing up many stairs on a gravel path, to suddenly emerge at an archway into a lane way with shops! I must admit, I was wondering why JB chose this out of the way place to stay, but once we got to this stunning medieval township, it was obvious.
The village sits on a limestone outcrop, with tiny streets opening out to roads, including the one we came in on. There are some small shops in the tiny streets, including an ice creamery, selling violet ice cream! Of course purple is my favourite colour, so to find a purple village, is my idea of heaven. It is a purple village because it is renowned for the violets it grows. Naturally, when I saw a gorgeous purple ring, I also had to buy it. In fact, there was purple everywhere, adding to the delightfulness of the village.
After finishing our ice creams we were still struggling to cool down, so a cold beer in the plaza was required, before we risked our lives walking home along the road. It is as treacherous for a pedestrian as it is for a driver and their passengers. I think I’ll let JB get us out of here tomorrow, then I’ll take over in the afternoon.
Wednesday 13th September (day 45)
As each day and night spent in Luigi passes, we are enjoying his company more and more. He is like Britzy from Alice, only a little smaller. Of course we love the permanent bed, although it is an east/west rather than our preferred north/south (like Britzy was). He has everything we need, with loads of storage space, that we rearranged to suit us. Our bags are packed away, with our clothes pouches stored in easy reach, and dirty clothes stored elsewhere, waiting for the washing fairies. Driving him is easy (it’s not his fault everything is back to front), and cooking, eating and sleeping in him has been perfect. So, this morning we tried out showering in him. He has a diesel heater and water heater built in, which heated the water to a perfect temperature. We chose to do his despite having showers in the amenities block, because I used them yesterday afternoon and they were more a spit than a shower.
Anyway, Luigi’s shower was fabulous! We took out all the things that we didn’t want to get soaked, like the toilet paper, and JB went first, doing the water on, water off, soap on, water on, water off, more soap on, water on, water off thing. Unlike him, when it was my turn, I just did water on, hung the shower head and had a fairly normal shower. I have to say, it was very nice, and another tick in the box for Luigi. Perhaps we will have to have a look at buying a Luigi in the future.
Once we took the opportunity to refill the water tank, we headed off down the road to Monaco. Fortunately Google maps didn’t play silly games with the route, and we were out of the mountains fairly easily, and onto more tollways and then into traffic! Our supposed 45 minute trip took much longer but with JB handling Luigi like a F1 driver, I got a first hand, front seat look around Monaco! Luigi even stopped at poll position! We were actually looking for some parking, but with space at a premium, finding anything that would accommodate Luigi’s height, was always going to be difficult. In the end, we drove out of Monaco and along the coast to Menton, where we found open air parking (for €25) and caught the train back in to Monaco. For the record, the ticketing system is shocking and we ended up riding for free.
Once we were back in Monaco, and free to roam, we walked up on to the rock, and wandered around, admiring the sea, the boats, the buildings and the palace. There were loads of people in town, possibly from a cruise ship, as the little stickers give that away. Once we had our fill of the craziness atop the rock, we decided to ‘op on the ‘op on ‘op off bus. Not something we normally do, but in the absence of time and not having prebooked an Airbnb walking tour, this seemed like a good way to see the city. Luckily for me, when we got on, the front seat on the top was available, so we rode around in the best possible seat! There is so much wealth and ostentatiousness is such a small place. Once again, I found myself wondering if it would all be worth it. Could the Grimaldi’s jump in a camper and travel the world? I doubt it. But then would it even occur to the, that they might be the ones missing out? I doubt it.
So that was Monaco, and Monte Carlo and the other suburbs of the principality. Having been there, and having listened to a podcast in the way, I understand how the place came to be, why it is like it is, and what its future holds. And now I have been there, another country ticked off the list, I don’t think I ever need to go back. Unless I find myself a multimillionaire sometime in the future … Back in reality, and at Luigi, I took the wheel and drove us into Italy, (oh my goodness), and out to our site at Isolabona, a few miles back from the sea. Another very full day. Tonight is our middle night, night 5 of 9, in Luigi. It’s going fast!
Thursday 14th September (day 46)
Another good night’s sleep in Luigi, and we were up, showered and on our way before 09.30 (that’s good for us). We didn’t get far though, pulling into Dolceacqua, just one village along from ours. After finding the right parking spot, we wandered along into the village and found the centre (the church). The information panel outside told us lots of things, including information about one of the paintings inside. It dates back to the early 1550’s, and represents Santa Devota, and was commissioned by Francesa Grimaldi (think Grimaldis that own Monaco), who commissioned the piece. We went inside the church, which is insignificant from the outside, but ornate and decadent on the inside. As promised, the 500 year old painting was right there! It’s mind blowing to think that art of that era adorns these walls, but then if there’s art like this in every church in Italy, that’s likely the only way they can reasonably be managed!
Back outside we started the climb up to the ruins of the Doria Castelo. It took us through another delightful medieval village, built in the foundations of the castle. The streets were tiny, and the outlets were open, selling interesting, locally made arts, crafts and other things. The temptation to buy more stuff was high, but I need to carry, or wear it all home. I could always throw some old stuff away, to take home new stuff though … After some window shopping, we kept on meandering up the tiny streets until we came to the entrance to the castle ruins.
We decide to pay the €6 each to have a look around. It turned out to be a great thing to do, for a few reasons. Firstly, the ruins are really picturesque and photogenic. Then there is the view of the town of Dolceacqua, which is amazing, with the road heading back to the hills where we stayed last night. And there was almost no one there, so we had it to ourselves, something that hasn’t happened a lot. I am not sure why the tourists aren’t visiting this place in their droves. Anyway, I’m glad they aren’t. The last of the reasons we enjoyed the visit was because of the history lesson.
So, recall the painting in the church? The history lesson relates to the painting. It goes something like this, the Dorias owned the castle and the land around, and the Grimaldis owned adjacent land and castles. So, it is obvious that two families would be constantly bickering with each other over everything, and jostling and elbowing to be the best family. And then, as any good romance novel would present, a Doria (Luca) fell in love with a Grimaldi (Francesca). As you can imagine, things went pear shaped from there, with Francesa coming to live in the Doria area, but she remained true to her Grimaldi background, in that when she commissioned the painting that hangs in the church, at the foot of the Doria castle she included as the main figure Santa Devota, the patron St of Monaco! Interestingly, her own facial features were used to represent Santa Devota. I think I would have liked Francesca. Another interesting fact about the painting is that somewhere in its history Santa Devota was painted over, with a representation of Saint Martin put in her place. Fortunately an analysis of the painting revealed that Santa Devota was still visible under Saint Martin, so Saint Martin was picked off, paint flake by paint flake, and Santa Devota was revealed. What a piece of art it is, and what a fabulous history it has.
Full of history and romance, we made our way back down from the church to the bridge, and around the town centre back to the church. Fortunately for us, there was a lovely cafe, where we overindulged in coffee, and focaccia, and lemon tart, sitting in the shade of the church and the castle. Dolceacqua proved to be a great place to spend a couple of hours, seeing things as interesting and beautiful as anything we’ve seen anywhere else in our travels. In fact, both Tourrette sur Loup and Dolceacqua, two medieval towns in two different countries have been highlights of this leg of the trip. If you’re in this neck of the woods, trust me, there is more to see than just the sea.
Just on 1pm we started our drive to tonight’s campsite, intending to go via Portofino. Naturally we shared the drive, which was one of the more picturesque, following the coastline, but also one of the more challenging motorway journeys. The road hugs the cliff, either perched atop a viaduct, or passing through a tunnel. The viaduct lengths vary from 100m to more than 500m, and the tunnels can go for more than a kilometre. The 2 hours we spent on the motorway, saw us emerge from a tunnel onto a viaduct, only to enter another tunnel and emerge on another viaduct, that lead into another tunnel! Combine this with endless trucks and my fear heights (those viaducts are high!), and we were both knackered by the time we hit the exit.
Knackered at the first motorway exit in Italy is not a good thing. Unfortunately for us, we chose an exit with no means to pay. No way to tap a card, nor anywhere to drop coins or notes. With no fluency in Italian, pressing the (floppy) buzzer didn’t help, and in the end, the person on the end of the line opened the boom gate. Jim Bean jumped from Luigi, so he could run back with the ticket and pay, leaving me to navigate away. The exit from the toll gate is at a roundabout, and fortunately for me there was a truck stopped in it, buying me time to assess the situation. What I knew for sure, was that I did not want to reenter the motorway and head back the way we just came! Fortunately I spotted the universal white P on a blue background, and headed for it, finding refuge and safety, just a JB returned having tried to pay the firefighters for our journey on the motorway!
I would love to say that the fun ended there, and we were safely in our posie at the caravan park, 1 minute from the toll gate (according to google maps) but I would be lying. Firstly we took the wrong exit off the roundabout and ended up literally in the heavens, on a tiny road, with 28 minutes to go! Having had an absolute gutful of this lark, I found a safe spot to stop, swapped seats with JB, and he pulled off another 3 point turn, so we could head back down the hill. Back at the roundabout, we somehow managed to take yet another wrong exit, and yet another 3 point turn was required to avoid an 8 minute detour. Finally, we entered the roundabout for the 4th time, took the right exit and sure enough, the caravan park was less than a minute along the road. Of course, like all good adventures, the story doesn’t end there. I nearly died when they said they didn’t have any vacancies, and thought I might cry when JB came back to get the phone to enter the address for a recommendation from the staff, when suddenly they miraculously found us a spot! There were koalas flying out the door! Hallelujah and thanks Santa Devota. So, here we sit, in the caravan park that occupies that small piece of land between a motorway and an exit ramp, that y shaped patch of heaven on earth, watching the cars zoom past at 130kms or exit to the toll gates. It’s so good, we’ve decided to stay 2 nights, and visit Portofino tomorrow. By ferry! What could possibly go wrong?
Friday 15th September (day 47)
Ah Portofino, you are a grand place! What a lovely day we have had today, spent in a small piece of paradise, with a few thousand other people.
As planned, we got up this morning and after our usual “get cracking coffee” we were walking from the caravan park into Rapello to catch the 10am ferry to Portofino. The walk took us 40 minutes, and we arrived at the ferry in good time, finding ourselves a seat at the front, in the sun. The ferry ride crosses the sea, via Santa Margherita Ligura, to Portofino, passing some great scenery, and providing us with the opportunity to see the coat-hugging road. Thankfully Luigi is sitting safely in our site by the motorway, enjoying a day off. Neither he nor us would have enjoyed driving out to Portofino. The ferry ride was very comfortable and very scenic. It’s not cheap, at €18 each, but it was worth it.
Once we arrived in Portofino we needed a coffee, but we decided to wait until the crowd thinned, so we headed into the Parq Musee, a sculpture park at the ferry dock. The information at the gate, and in the associated paraphernalia suggests this is a 5 star attraction.
In reality it barely rates a single star, but for €5 each, we were in a quite oasis in the heart of Portofino, with amazing views all to ourselves.
Once the crowds settled down, we ventured out to find a cafe and enjoyed coffee in the sun, with a great view. In fact the view never stops. It’s everywhere and stunning. The water is crystal clear and beautifully blue. The sky today was clear and the air was warm. It was a stunning day, in a picture perfect place.
Having replenished with coffee, we set off to the church on the hill, and were amazed at the vertical cemetery on the cliff edge, where the dead have a fabulous view out to sea. I’ve never seen anything like this and nor has JB,so we were morbidly fascinated. It’s certainly not for me, but I can see how it may be for others, especially where whole families, for many generations have been entombed like this. At least they have a fabulous view for eternity.
Our next stop was my castle, Brown Castelo, which dates back a long way, a may have even had Richard the Lionheart stay in it, way back a millennium or so ago. Not quite so long ago, a fellow with my surname bought it, and converted it from a fortress to a home, and called it Castelo Brown, the name it is still known by today.
In truth, while it is in a stunning location, with jaw dropping views, it presents with empty rooms and very little appeal. We stayed long enough to absorb the view and then walked on to the lighthouse, which is inaccessible and not even able to be photographed. However, there is a shaded bar, where we opted to have a beer (it would be rude not to) and cool down a little. Despite being autumn here, the temperature is in the mid 20s, with high humidity, making it sticky and sweaty. Beer definitely helps.
Apparently it’s all downhill from the Castelo, so walking back to the harbour was easy(ish) and we took the opportunity to check it out from both sides. By this time the maxi-yachts had changed and the monster “yacht” Skyfall had moved in beside Northland, dwarfing it and the town. I’m glad I got some pictures of the harbour and buildings, before the massive piece of sea-going machinery stole the show. Eventually (and only after ice cream), we called it a day and boarded the 5pm ferry back to Rapallo, before walking home to Luigi. Today was a bonus day, a rest day, an opportunity to recharge but also to enjoy a beautiful part of the world.it absolutely did all those things and much more. We have forfeited our day in Florence, but Florence deserves more than a day, and Portofino exceeded our expectations and a day was just the right amount of time. So, we move on tomorrow, but how’s this? Check out is 12 midday. Imagine that ever happening in Australia! People getting their monies worth out of the patch of land. Ah-Maz-Ing!
Saturday 16th September (day 48)
Fortunately we were able to leave Rapalla without incident, collecting a new tollway ticket on our way onto the on ramp (passing the camping site entrance). We also had an easy drive through to Pisa, where we found the turnoff onto the street where we intended to spend the night. However, the street was closed at both ends, sending us on a journey out of town, to an alternative spot. Neither of us were keen on it, so we turned around and went back to Pisa, parked the camper in a huge parking area, and wandered down to tick off a SeventyB470 item, seeing then Leaning Tower of Pisa.
I would have to say, this was quite an amazing thing to see, and we sat in the shade of some trees and enjoyed the view for some time. Apparently its construction commenced in the 1100’s, when it started to sink almost straight away. A war halted any further building work, that apparently saved it, as it settled over they couple of hundred years, into a comfy (and stable) posie. So, when construction recommenced, the new architect tried to correct the lens, by adding 4 more floors, with longer pillars on the leaning side. The extra weight on that side, started it leaning again, but the tower was able to be completed. The lean is impressive, and you can definitely see the compensation attempt.
Just a few years ago, soil was excavated from beneath the high side. So it could tip back slightly, which it did, annd some concrete was added to the low side too help the situation. Now engineers think it’s good for a couple of hundred years! I am glad hey didn’t correct it’s lean completely, and I would say by the extent of its lean, that didn’t really managed too much straightening, probably just tipped it back enough to stiff the concrete under the other side. Anyway, I was not at all inclined to go up into the tower and out on to the balcony at the top. Heights is one thing, but heights with a sloping floor, no way!
As we were sitting admiring the tower, we were also ringing around trying to find a campsite for tonight. We didn’t have any luck, so in the end we called the caravan park on the closed road, and they had a site. Hearing the cheering at the stadium we figured the road my be open while the match was on, so we goofed it back to Luigi, and drove the few hundred meters to secure our spot! With that sorted, we were able to have a nice lunch, with coffee, in the shade of the site, before we walked back down to spend some more time at the tower. It’s an amazing sight and site, one of those places you read about and imagine visiting, never thinking that you will! The when you dog it’s a bit surreal. It’s definitely bigger than I thought and leans more than I thought. Pictures don’t do it justice. It’s really attractive and hard to take your eyes off.
After enjoying a beer with the tower, we headed in to Pisa for a look around. It’s really very nice, with other sites to find. We saw a few familiar fellows, and found the tiniest and one of the most ornate churches in Europe! The is a river dissecting the city, that has some lovely buildings along its banks. We crossed a bridge and another back again, surprised at the size and beauty of the city. With the sun setting, a few hundred steps, we headed back to the tower, as though it is a magnet. It’s a pretty place regardless of the time of day, and there were loads of people still out as the sun was setting.
Luckily for me the buskers were happy to play happy birthday for my brother (for €10), so hopefully he is happy with his very own birthday message from Pisa! With our day almost gone, we wandered home to the park, where there is a handy pizza and pasta joint, that make a Torre di Pisa pizza. When in Pisa …
Sunday 17th September (day 49)
It’s hard to believe we have to give Luigi back tomorrow. But first we are going to Bologna for bolognaise!
We once again managed to be on the road before 10 today, and I drove all the (uneventful) way to Bologna. Although uneventful, the podcast we listened to about the city as we drove along the motorway, didn’t make us particularly excited, and nor did the drive through the industrial area to the caravan park. But they had a spot for us, and we were set up by 12.15. JB had the coffees made by 12.30 and we had packed and moved sites by 12.45. Loud music at that time of day does not augur well for the rest of it.
Despite the chopping and changing, we still managed to catch the 1pm bus from the caravan park to the city, arriving in town at 1.20pm. Fortunately we had a map and a rough idea where to go, so we followed or noses and found ourselves in the beautiful square in the centre of town. We had hoped to follow the suggested 3 hour tour, but spent way too long trying to find the first thing to do, see the buried and now revealed medieval foundations of Bologna. The site was clearly closed and despite looking around, there was no second entrance, so we abandoned that idea and headed off in search of other sites. Part of the plan was to have a late lunch, which was quickly brought forward even more when JB spotted bolognaise lasagne. Luckily for me, I knew he would not be keen to share, which meant I could order a creamy tortellini. Both dishes were delicious and with a beer to wash them down, and an espresso to top the off, we were completely satisfied with “the fat” part of Bologna.
Back on the walking trail, we entered into the Basilica of Saint Petronio, where among other things, we saw the worlds largest sundial. I wish we had been there to see what happened at midday, but it was still cool to see it stretching across the basilica in the afternoon.
From here we wandered around trying to find the anatomical theatre, a part of the medical school where anatomy lessons were once held, but again, it was closed! Perhaps it’s a Sunday thing? So instead we reversed our steps and eventually found the whispering gallery. I was a sceptic, but put my face to the wall in one corner, while JB put his face to the wall in the other. Being a sceptic, I chose an obscure thing to say, and made sure I whispered it. As well as JB had his back to me (I checked), the place was full of noisy people. There’s no way he would be able to hear my whisper, in a diagonally opposite corner, about 15m away. “SJs birthday is 21st June”. Then I heard it back! “SJs birthday is 21st June”! What the heck! How does that work? I’m googling that!
Our next stop on our walking tour was back past Galvani in his piazza, who scored himself a statue by discovering muscle contractility in dead frogs (we’ve all done that experiment in school biology), to the basilica of Saint Dominico. Believe it or not, there are sculptures by Michelangelo in this bland looking church, that we saw. For nothing. With no one else there. Mindblowingly cool! Again, the Catholic Church is hanging on to some awesome art and science in this part of Italy. So that’s us experienced “the learned” part of Bologna, or as much as it is possible to experience on a Sunday afternoon.
Back on tour, we needed a good gelato, so we headed past one with a big queue (“we are not queuing on holidays”) straight to another with a big queue! I’m not sure it was worth the queue, but we needed to re-explore “the fat” part of Bologna just to be sure that they do have great gastronomy., before finishing off our tour with “the rosso”. Apparently some folk claim “the rosso”, the red, comes from red Ferraris, made here in Bologna but in truth it comes from the red brick work that is evident throughout the city, including in the twin towers, one of which has a greater lean that the tower of Pisa! As a bricklayer’s daughter, I appreciate the brickwork and the red bricks, and in this part of the world they are a nice change from the painted buildings, most in that familiar Tuscan terracotta colour.
Our last stop on this whistle stop tour of the city was the little window into the canal side living of some Bolognese (or Bolognians, but not bolognaise!). Unfortunately we needed to get “back on the bus” for the 20 minute ride back to the caravan park. It was a shame to leave the lovely little city of Bologna. While we did a highlights package in just 3.5 hours, we barely scratched the surface, and I wouldn’t hesitate to come back! My initial reaction to the city was grossly unwarranted. It has a charm that is worth spending time finding. It was wonderfully busy, with streets closed to traffic and full of people and bicycles. There was a nice mix of locals celebrating mobility week, and tourists wandering the streets. I hope we come back here some day and have another wander. But for now, it’s almost time to wrap up the much anticipated camper part of our holiday. I feel sad about that.
The Solo Avocado 