The grand tour of Tuscany September/October 2024 Week Two

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Sunday 8th September

Starting mileage 21707

End mileage: 21775

Distance driven: 68 miles approx.

Leonardo De Vinci was an extraordinary polymath. A great hydrologist and civil engineer amongst other things as well.  So, the opportunity to go visit his birth place and tour a couple of museums was not to be missed. We said our good byes to Guido, departed Lucca at 0815 and were parked up on the little Sosta below the town by 0930. We stayed off the toll roads and went cross country. A Sunday, roads were empty and it was consequently a stress-free journey!  Mag has taken to navigating with a Michelin map on her lap instead of the atlas – it gives a greater overview of the area being travelled through as well as greater detail. She is not trusting of google maps. Several times in small towns we navigated on gut instinct as it tried to route us through convoluted streets and village centres. It never seems to take the most sensible route! It also has a habit of trying to choose the quickest route and several times, at the most inopportune moment, it would try and take us onto the toll roads.

A fifteen-minute stroll up the hill from the Sosta, we reached the museums. After learning about his extraordinary machines, inventions, anatomical drawings and paintings we headed back down the hill and, no surprise here if you are a regular reader of this blog, we washed up once more in a little café for a coffee and croissant stop. Added bonus? A classic 1960’s vespa at the café door, fully restored. Why should this be of significance to one of us, you might ask? Because when Sam, our son was 14 he wanted to buy and restore an old vespa. So, we did. We found ‘Stacey’ as an old dilapidated barn find down in the rural Lands End area of Cornwall. It took us two years to strip her down, clean her up, repair the damage and replace the parts that could not be restored. Neither father or son had any idea what they were doing but people on Facebook along with Vespa parts supplier ‘Beedspeed’ helped us via skype/email and finally we completed the project. She started first time after her complete rebuild.

Sam later sold his ‘beloved’ ‘Stacey’ to fund his master’s degree. It was a sad day to see her go in all honesty.

 Anyway, off for Greve in Chianti. Again, not placing all our trust in google maps and keeping off the main roads, we rolled up and down hills covered in vineyards and olive plantations via narrow roads. The views were stunning and classic Tuscany.

Can you believe it? We arrived in Greve to discover its annual Chianti festival in full flow. Pot luck was that! 15 euros got you a guide book and seven free wine tastings. The little market triangle at the centre of the town was full of wine stalls. Brisk business was being done, the place was heaving and dare one say very convivial.

Such opportunities allow us to do one of our favourite past-times. People watching. Humans are really fascinating. Wine tasters even more so. Some stood stock still with their engraved wine glasses head at eye level; intensely glaring into the liquid. A flick of the wrist, a swirl or two, a sniff. Back to some more intense scrutiny. Some deep pondering; furrowed eyebrows, creased foreheads, a shrug of the shoulders and then that all important sip. A gurgle; a slurp; another gurgle as wine is drawn through the teeth and across the tongue. Well at least that is what we think they were doing. Who knows? Not us, for Mag just glugs down whatever wine she is given; she never hangs around where wine is concerned. Me? I’m a lifelong tea totaller; completely useless and surplus to requirements in this situation. Well out of my depth. Can’t see what all the fuss and pontificating is about!

Sellers are easy to spot; much waving of arms, lots of smiles, fast chatter, lots of encouraging body language which, is of course, so much fun to interpret. As seasoned teachers we are both, if I may be so bold as to say, rather good at it.

Some great artesian craft shops to browse as well when we are all people watching exhausted. Splendid stuff although 20 euros for a bottle of wine? Um! Still people were doing great deals with overseas buyers, many of whom seemed to be American.

What about the Sosta? Well on Search4Sites it is advertised as free (it is) and with water, grey and black waste facilities. You can also get an electric hook up. I could find the water and electric (although we haven’t used the latter). The black and grey waste seem to be well hidden although I suspect it was the circular drain in the centre of the car park for both. Plenty of spacing between individually marked out bays. Bins are emptied regularly; plenty for recycling and general waste. It was a ten-minute stroll into the town. By the way, lots of restaurants and shops selling hung meats, hams and cheeses. Spoilt for choice, a visitor will not go hungry in this part of Tuscany for sure.

Later that night I sent an SOS message to the kids on Whatsapp. It read “help. STOP. Send armbands urgent STOP. Fedex asap. STOP. Address semi submerged autosleeper at end of temporary lake in Sosta STOP.” It was a big thunder storm, directly overhead. It reverberated off the hills and the claps rattled Bryony on occasions. I ran around closing windows and roof hatches with alacrity. The rain cascaded in rivers off her roof and down over the habitation windows. Puddles turned to miniature coalescing lakes in parts of the car park. It lasted an hour. Gotta love a thunderstorm when you are in a motorhome. It’s that real contact with the elements!

Museum costs: book on line 9 euros each for two museums.

 

Monday 9th  September

Starting mileage: 21775

Finishing mileage: 21808

Distance driven: 33 miles

San Grimignano stood out on the hill. We could see it from a distance away. Hardly surprising with all those square towers. Our journey across via the small roads gave us views of undulating slopes far into the distance; clad in olive groves and of course the ubiquitous vineyards. Down the fabled SR222 We meandered, through Panzano and Castellina in Chianti where we stopped for a coffee and some food and a little walk around; exploring the vaulted walkway beneath the town. We parked at the Sosta for a couple of hours.  Two euros for three hours. We also made use of the service point to empty grey and black waste for free. The stroll up into the town took ten minutes.

Refreshed, replenished and chilled we had a sedate meander, rarely above 30 mph along SR 429 to Poggibonsi and then on the SP 1 to San Grimignano. 

It seems funny but Bryony doesn’t seem to shrink her girth as well as she used to, however hard we breath in and hold our breath. Italians own the road. Literally. They come around hairpin corners on your side of the road and then look mildly surprised and indignant when faced with a 2.8m wide 4 tonne motorhome. Their cars swerve suddenly to the edge of their road section.  We, meanwhile, have learned to take hairpin bends and switchbacks in second gear and to keep as close to the inside bend as physically possible without grounding the bike rack. We have, in the words of the famous film, become fully paid up members of “The self-preservation Society”.

The Sosta at San Grimignano is quite a way out from the town; a 35-minute walk. But hey, don’t panic! There is a bus stop 50 m up the road and a regular bus right to the centre. You enter the Sosta through a barrier and then pay before you exit. You get your ticket punched at the exit machine to add on a return bus fare to the town.  It is basically two gravel car parks separated by a thicket of trees and bamboo. You are packed in and there are no services on the site. You can find those down a road just before you pass the stadium, if coming from the town direction.  Use them first before arriving on the site, otherwise you pay twice!

We arrived around 1340 and the Sosta was almost full then, only five or six places remaining out of a potential twenty-five or so. We debated walking but it was hot and well a bus was about to appear over the horizon and it would have been rude not to take advantage of this excellent transport resource. Did I say San Grimignano lies atop a hill? Save your legs and sanity – take the bus up and, if you must, walk back!

The town was heaving. It was a good natured onslaught. Bus loads of tourists; tourists disembarking from black Mercedes private taxis’. Anarchy at every car park barrier entrance. St Ives, Fowey, Padstow and Salcombe all rolled in to one! But in saying this, it was a pretty place. Up through the narrow streets we wandered admiring the buildings and occasional views across rolling countryside. The queue at the Gelatia was astonishing. It actually stretched across almost an entire piazza. Twenty minutes queueing in a 40m long queue for an ice cream! Seriously! Wow. Why?

Did we climb any of the towers? No! Did we visit the Museum of Torture? No? We walked, we window shopped, we dodged the hordes of tourist groups with their bewildered guides.

Was it worth visiting? Absolutely! The buildings are amazing. The views, breathtaking. Glad we did it but equally as glad to escape the mayhem after three hours!

Costs: Sosta and included return bus fare 15 euros.

 

Tuesday 10th   September

Starting mileage: 21808

Finishing mileage: 21 832

Distance driven: 24 miles

Today’s early morning drive to Volterra was beautiful. Challenging in places but beautiful. Those Tuscan landscapes of rolling hills, vertical cypress pines, vineyards, olive groves and stubble fields where cereal crops have been already harvested. Terracotta browns, sandy buffs and limestone calcareous soils.  Narrow roads, hairpin switch backs, long hill descents.  And views, just stunning views. SP69, SP 62, SP15. About one hours drive or so.

Our warm, serene fuzzy feel came tumbling down when we entered Volterra. How can I phrase this so it helps? DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT approach Volterra’s sosta from the west! Do not trust google maps! It is without doubt a devious Machiavellian tool of the technological devil; its sole purpose to put you into impossible driving situations!

I am not sure how we managed the descending switch back road down to the Sosta. This is partly because for some of the journey I had my eyes shut. And I was driving. The encounter with the mad Italian lady, her small car, the low overhanging branch and the chains slung between bollards will stay with me for a long time to come.  Lots of shouting, waving of arms, hands upturned to invoke God’s wrath and pointing me to go into a space for which Bryony was just not designed. The tree clunked the aerial; her driver side skirting grazed a bollard and chain. The irate Italian drove her car through a gap barely inches wider than her car, her curses echoing up through our open cab windows. Whilst I paused, an inaction brought on by fear, three other cars decided to follow her! Concepts of width, length, angle clearly have little meaning in this country!  Leonardo was clearly an outlier! And Galileo too!

The Sosta at Volterra is a sloping clay gravel uneven car park affair surrounded by trees in a sort of gorge area. Electric hook up is available at 1 euro per 12 hours. There is a service point on the road side of the area – black, grey waste and water for a fee.

We were parked below the great cliff on which Volterra is found. There were 290 steps up to the first street. I know, I counted them all! You have a choice from the huge gate with its covered pond – three possible staircases; take your pick. We chose short and steep flights. You could have very low step risers and very wide step treads which would require a couple of paces between each step. They looked more tortuous frankly!

We both instantly preferred Volterra to San Grimignano. Not as big, not as busy, not as commercialised and, dare I say it, prettier. We purchased two Volterra cards and visited three museums and one archaeological site.  The museums were excellent and their exhibits fascinating and at times stunning. We were fascinated by the Eco Alabaster museum. Geology was a subsidiary part of my Geography /education degree. Gypsum alabaster. Only 2 on the Moh’s scale of hardness, so easy to carve into intricate shapes. And, what’s more the traditional way is virtually identical to that of wood turning back in the UK. The old tensioned pole, rope and pedal affair.  The carvings were genuinely exquisite.

The paintings in the museum of art were beautiful; the Etruscan funerary casks astonishing. The biggest and rarest collection in the world. Detailed carvings of Greek myths and tragedies. Achilles, Gryphons, Cerberus and more. The muses and the sirens.

We climbed towers, marvelled at the views and the skilled geographical locationary thinking of the Town’s original settlers.

We ate a pizza at a ristorante that was sublime. Truly delicious. Vegetarian margarita, a base so light and fluffy. Exquisite. Actually, that was today’s ‘word of the day’. ‘Exquisite’. Volterra has been ‘exquisite’.

Well, almost! Internet signal down in the depths of the gorge where the Sosta is? Very poor, well it was for us. Our phones struggled to connect and then stay connected. You will need a good modem/router I suspect.

Costs: Sosta 15 euros for 24 hours and 2 euros for 24 hours of electric. The Volterra pass – 20 euros each for five museums and two archaeological parks.

Wednesday 11th September

Mileage at start: 21 832

Mileage at end: 21 866

Distance driven: 34 miles

That eastern route up to the Sosta at Volterra is far easier than the way we came yesterday. This morning we just positively glided down the road. Yes there were switch backs and narrow areas but compared to yesterday’s fiasco of an arrival, a piece of cheese!

What caught us out this morning was the fog. Volterra on top of its huge hill was wreathed in it. When we departed we could see sunshine but as we descended, it was clear that temperature inversion was at play. Like some mythical Amazonia mesa and butte system, Volterra was wreathed in a blanket of fog, grey at its base and translucent alabaster white at its top as the sun tried to shine through the cloud.

Across the deeply valley and ridge landscape, it was easy to spot the valleys. They were the ones with thick white cloud in them. A landscape like a folded carpet of green pine forest clad ridges separated by cotton wool valleys.

When we finally descended to lower altitudes, the sunshine managed to break through illuminating the dew on the cobwebs in the roadside vegetation. Natures sparkling, diamond like, vertical chandeliers. It cast its warm honeyed glow cross the ploughed fields and those left with corn stubble. Green leaves shone translucent like as the sunlight supercharged their chloroplasts.

Such musings on the finer points of landscape appreciation were cruelly dispelled by the state of the smaller country roads. Adverse cambers, collapsed subsidence, crumbing road edges. Several times I was left hanging onto the steering wheel as even at low speeds, my bum left the seat and zero gravity took over. It was like one of those white-knuckle fairground rides at time, both exhilarating and fairly terrifying at the same time. Thank God we’d fitted Bryony with semi air suspension. Today on this short journey it paid for itself several times over!

We duly arrived ‘shaken but not stirred’ at our first port of call, a COOP supermarket at the back of Siena’s main hospital complex. Chosen because it had three accessible car parks and was only a seven minute journey to our final destination, Camping Siena Colleverde.  At the edge of the car park we found a café/bar and had a soothing Café Macchiato. Whist Mag did the shopping, I tided Bryony up cleaning all her surfaces and floors, beating out the carpets and rugs and detoxing any surface I felt was dodgy after almost two weeks of off griding.

So, what about the campsite?

Pricey – eye wateringly so. But we felt we had earned a treat. Laundrette, swimming pool, 15 minute bus ride to the centre of Siena. Bus stop 140m up the road.

Warnings! And there are a few. Firstly this site is massive – tents, mobile homes, hardstandings, grass pitches. Its massive but in a compact sense. Secondly, it’s on a hill with reception, supermarket and restaurant at the top!  Lots of walking up and down! The roads around the site are narrow and to be frankly honest, our rig is about as big as it goes for lower roads. The corners are tight, the roads narrow and they are two-way traffic too. The corners and hills are steep! Several motorhomes like ours at 7.8m long came down past our pitch and like me, drivers were taking it slowly and gripping the steering wheel. The service area is a nightmare to reverse into. A frankly bonkers arrangement!  The chemical disposal point is in a separate location back up the hill! It is noticeable that longer rigs are given pitches, aire like, higher up.

The positives? Friendly staff, great reception team, clean facilities, wonderful showers, nice clean pool, restaurant on site, lovely pool bar. Our pitch is uneven, gravel and earth mix, but beautifully shaded by trees. Very welcome in the heat we have been experiencing. It was tight getting into. I had to reverse off the road and then do a tight reverse turn off the gravel track into the pitch. Uneven ground, so we had to chock one rear wheel to level up. I’m not looking forward to driving out in a few days’ time if I am honest but I am reassured by the number of large vans around us and so assume it can be done. When it rains, mud splatter coats wheels, lower motorhome trim edging and anything you have inadvertently left out.

We have spent the afternoon chilling, sat under the wind out awning, reading books and catching up on photo editing. It is nice to finally stop since we have been on the go. In just ten days we have travelled from Plymouth to Siena via Chamonix. By my calculation, we have covered approximately 1340 miles or so. Not bad, I guess.

Tonight, we have dined well and been serenaded by a rather good guitarist and singer at the pool bar. It’s live music night apparently. Tomorrow we will visit Siena and possibly take an evening dip in the pool although we need to source some bathing caps before that can happen. A pool rule!

Costs: 135 euros for next three nights – pricey; tourist tax 6 euros Opi+Pass to Dumo area 37 euros

 

Thursday 12th September

We stood there, stock still, in awe and wonder, trying to comprehend what we had just stepped into. We were the first to enter and had it to ourselves for a few minutes. With its high vaulted ceilings, high walls and marbled floors, it is an astonishing room. But what makes it distinct, are the frescoes and, of course, the large medieval manuscript books. I am talking about one of the most breathtaking buildings we have visited, the Piccolomini Library off Siena Cathedral.

Let’s start with the books. Large, encased within wood and glass shelves along each side wall, each single page is around A1 or A2 in size. On what looks like vellum are musical bars, notes and stanzas. Medieval chants and hymns accompanied by the most exquisite painted illuminations of such depth of colour and artistry. Gold leaf and ink work of such delicateness.

I cannot do justice to the beauty of the frescoes, all religious scenes from the life of Jesus. Their depth of colour, ornateness, poise, characterisation, artistry – all uplifting and awe-inspiring. 

It is reassuring to know that in a day and age of instant gratification, sound bites, information overload, that we can still be brought to a halt by extraordinary beauty, to be left in a state of awe, wonder, astonishment and reflectiveness.

Our day in Siena was to bring a few more such moments.

 

We caught the 7.55 bus. We were expecting to catch the 0819 but one was either running early or late so we seized the unexpected opportunity.  Twenty minutes later, we were stood admiring the Piazza del Campo and we practically had it to ourselves. We strolled its upper edge, admired the medieval buildings surrounding it and watched the area come to life. There is something fascinating about watching a city come to life in the early morning. Routines. Restaurant owners washing down and sweeping the paved areas outside their doors before setting up tables and parasols. Bin men in small lorries circulating the Piazza collecting rubbish. Shop workers, council officials, office workers all walking through the narrows streets, dipping into little bars and cafes for pre work coffee and pastry; greeting friends and co-workers with “Ciao” and a kiss of both cheeks or a hug and handshake. Clusters of sharply dressed professionals in little huddles, intense conversations.

We approached the Duomo from the rear and climbed the 43 marble steps up its left hand side. It is truly a gorgeous building. Black and white marbles, some even pink. Twisted columns, like sticks of liquorice we used to buy as kids.  Ornate carvings and figurines. Astonishing almost translucent paintings. The tower is distinctive; the scale of the place inspiring. And again, with no tourists around we were able to wander the exterior and take photographs with few people in the shots. Quite a nice feeling actually.

By 0930 we had succumbed to coffee and pastries at a very nice café at the rear of the Duomo below the steps up to the baptistry. And at 1015 we entered the cathedral itself. By accident rather than deliberateness on our part we went clockwise instead of anticlockwise around the interior and whilst the crowd surged front and right, we went left.

And that is how we ended up in the Piccolomini library on our own for several minutes.

At certain times of the year, the famed marble floor artwork is uncovered for the public to view. It is of such delicateness and importance that such occasions are rare and by pure chance, we had timed it right. Sixty or so ornate floor panels of such beautiful carving and drawing. Rare medieval paintings on walls, the great black and white marble pillars, the painted ceilings. Siena Cathedral is absolutely everything people say about it and so much more. It genuinely takes your breath away and leaves you with a deep, deep respect for those medieval masters – architects, stone masons, carpenters, painters and sculpturers. The resources it took, the money it cost, the engineering employed.

The Crypt, Baptistry and Cathedral museum didn’t disappoint. The Duomo is a tough act to follow but as we went from one to another, we were left stunned, humbled, in awe and wonderment at the sheer artistry, craftsmanship and design we saw. Neither of us are religious but we can appreciate the stories, symbolism, iconography and messaging that appear throughout such frescoes, artwork, sculptures and architecture. We appreciate and can admire the significance, reverence and impact it has for those whose faith and belief is strong and committed.

From a 3m diameter stain glass window of such extraordinary beauty to the famed, delicately constructed  Golden Rose and rosebush with its powder blue sapphire; old brass clad books from the 1300’s with lacquered paintings on their covers; delicate tapestries, skilfully carved wooden statutes. We left the Duomo complex in awe, with wonder, and a profound appreciation of the work of those medieval people who created such a legacy for us to admire today.

And then we stumbled by accident into the candle shop. Delicately carved candles of all shapes and colours, candles painted with Tuscan scenes, candles in the shapes of frogs and chickens; the most extraordinarily delicate and skilfully shaped flower candles – poppies, sunflowers – they almost looked real. A shop that was light and airy filled with colour and joy, the owner sat right at the front beneath a rack of dangling flower candles, painting a wax frog. In front of her an ancient wooden frame onto which had been screwed six table spoons. Beneath each spoon, a small light tea candle, heating a wax colour in the spoon above until it was a small pool of warm liquid. Red, Green, Yellow, Blue, Purple and Black.

Head bent low, sat on her stool, the owner’s hand deftly dipped her delicate brush into a wax and with quick movements added some faint yellow streaks to the wax frog held in her left hand. The only ones in her shop, her welcome was warm. “Pick up anything you would like to see, ask if you can’t see something, feel free to browse. I can add names or motifs of your choosing if need be.”

I brought the cutest little hand painted, hand waxed (?) chicken for my mum. A delicate face and its flanks covered in poppies. Still the only ones in the shop, we chatted to the owner. She had been at the shop for twenty four years. She served a seven year apprenticeship with the original owners, a married couple and when they retired, she brought it from them. She had learned all her skills from them and then started developing her own. The flowers were her particular ‘invention’ and forte along with the candle carving. She has two others now helping her, one who had been with her for four years, the other new but learning very quickly.

As she chatted away and continued working on her frog, she explained how the eight vats of coloured liquid, just off to her right, were warmed to 74C to keep the wax liquid and warm. How her candles could be dipped multiple times, sometimes up to 100 hundred times, to build up the individual layers and candle thickness ready for carving.

Half an hour in that shop. It went by in a flash, uninterrupted by other tourists. An audience with a gracious, charming master craftswoman. What a genuine privilege.

A late lunch – pizza slice, vegetarian, olive based, for Mag and a melted ham and cheese focaccia affair for me. Delicious and in a little bar just off the Piazza del Campo, down a side street where mainly locals seemed to be the patrons. A wander back through the shops. Mag has been dress hunting. Our niece is getting married in the south of France next year. No luck yet, but we still have plenty of time on this trip.

Back at the campsite, our lucky streak for the day continues. The washing machine and dryer aren’t being used. Bonus! Laundry is done. Van housekeeping is finished.

Practicalities. Costs!

Bus tickets – buy from reception. You pay in cash, around 6 euros for two return tickets. The bus stop to Siena centre is out of the gates, left, 150 metres up the road. Get off at Piazza Gramsci. It’s a 15 minute stroll to the Duomo from there. Return, catch the N03 back from the Piazza. The campsite gives you a map with the bus times on.  The duomo complex – we brought our tickets on line from their official website – the Opi+ ticket. There is one more above which gets you a view of the Cathedral from it upper sections as well.  Our ticket was 38 euros for two adults.

Where does the Duomo rank amongst paces we have been privileged enough to visit? Easily top ten, possibly even top five.

A special day, Siena has not disappointed in any way, shape or form.

Friday 13th September

We designated today, a day of rest. Actually, I have hurt my back somehow and have been struggling to stand from a seated position. Don’t ask me how, I don’t know! It’s painful and Mag is doing her best to look and act sympathetic without sniggering. She won’t be laughing when she discovers she’s going to have to drive, that’s for sure! He who sniggers last gets last snigger and all that!

So, we have been lazy. Had a coffee at the pool bar, sat and read books all day. Strolled the campsite, caught up on photo editing.

That’s it, sum total of the day.

 

What are the joys of motorhoming?

We are a couple of weeks into our Tuscany tour. Time to reflect. What is the joy behind motorhoming?

Its certainly up on camping, that’s for sure. In Italy, there is the added thrill of driving your entire ‘home for a few weeks’ into a ditch or field of Olive trees as you try to avoid the cars coming around the bends on your side of the road.

Packing for a motorhome is a dark art and all that careful planning and packing is practically out of the window two weeks in! I am mainly responsible for packing and I do it in phases – the essentials phase (clothes, food, safety gear, tool kit gear, sanitation supplies etc). In goes the ‘just in case’ items – more tool stuff, glues, tapes, blankets, games, spare wing mirrors etc. Then there is the electronics and astronomy stuff – that is in two large IKEA bags. Oh, hang on, forgotten the snow chains. Spare EHU cable – some of those boxes are miles away on some campsites! Don’t forget, need a mobile tech shop for the EBikes!

Is it any wonder we up-plated Bryony? She’s like the TARDIS. It all goes in, comes out again, gets halved and then goes back in again with extras!

And then there is the driving. I will do a whole separate blog on the art of driving in Italy. It deserves a whole blog post to itself. For now, can I say that navigating narrow roads, overhanging tree branches, low bridges, one way systems, road closures, insane cyclists, vespas, Vespa Ape van thingies, adverse cambers, double hairpin bends and road fractures worthy of the San Andreas fault line – its exhausting! Every corner is a mini adventure and death-defying event. Every road junction? A chicken run, irrespective of whether it is controlled by traffic lights or not!

Arriving at your chosen campsite is always an interesting experience. First navigating the welcome from the owners, or not. Getting a feel for the layout of the site; negotiating price and whether it includes electric, water, wifi. Are the facilities clean? Do they have loo seats and toilet paper? Are they proper toilets and not holes in the ground? Are the showers hot? Does the push button work for more than 10 seconds? Can you cope with the semi opaque see through shower door? Is there a hook for the towels?

Then pitch selection – the devil’s own work. Where is the sun, is it boggy? Will you get stuck in mud if it rains?  Will your roof look like a mini garden after all the leaves have fallen on it.

And OMG, the hours of my life I will never get back, trying to level up the motorhome so that the sink will drain properly and the fridge will function on gas! And, more importantly, blood won’t rush to our heads during the night whilst we are sleeping at an angle!  There is of course, the art of also choosing your neighbours for the night. An assessment of their motorhome, the way it is set up, what equipment they have out, how they have parked it on their pitch? Complicated when nationalities are involved! The great joy is you meet all sorts of wonderful people from all backgrounds in life and it is a joy to sit and chat. The downside is you can meet all sorts of characters, some of whom may be best avoided!

Wake up to the sun streaming through the roof skylight; the light making the tree leaves above a brilliant shiny translucent green. The view out of the windows, serene lake, monumental mountains and glaciers, bustling city suburb; railway line, bus station, smelly bamboo lined creek, where raw sewage ebbs away. Yep, had them all!  Wildlife – foxes, squirrels, birds, stray dogs and cats. All have paid us a visit.

The joy of finding a petrol station that sells LPG cannot be under estimated if you have an underslung tank! Neither can having the right LPG tank adapter if travelling on the continent!  An aire or sosta with free water, grey and black waste disposal and free electric – aah the joy, the gratitude!

I could go on – the art of cooking in a small space and on a CADAC! The microwave that cuts out every two minutes – something beloved of all autosleeper owners!

You would think that perhaps I’m a pessimist, glass half empty chap but not at all. What I haven’t done is mention all the positives! The thunderstorms and rainbows, the sunsets and awe inspiring archaeology; the scenery from gorges to braided rivers, from volcanoes to glaciers. Museums and frescos, sculptures and divine art work.

The sense of adventure and freedom, the ability to get lost and not worry about doing so. It’s a brilliant, privileged life isn’t it.

 

Saturday 14th September

Start mileage: 21866

End mileage: 21 892

Distance travelled:

We departed the campsite at 0830 after offloading waste water in the hard to get into service point!  We used the same COOP up the road, a limited choice but easy parking and a very nice and cheap bar right next to the parking. Coffee and pecan slices for 6 euros total.

We then drove a stunning little road to Asciano – the SS 438. We were in Tuscan countryside finally, or so we felt. Rolling clay hills as far as the eye could see punctuated by hill top houses with long driveways lined with Cypress trees. All the fields are being ploughed after harvesting. Big caterpillar wheel tractors pull big plough rigs. The soil is deep, thick, clay!

Asciano has a level gravel car park which doubles as a sosta with free water and grey waste disposal only. There is also an electric hook up for emergencies I guess. It is a five minute walk to the town centre.

We strolled the town and called in at the tourist information centre who were very helpful, providing us with walking and cycling maps. We grabbed a coffee at a recommended pizzeria in the central piazza and that’s as far as we got. We’ve decided to stay here for tonight so that we can go cycling tomorrow.

It’s good to stop. My back pain has got worse and I am struggling to move. The low handbrake in the cab is proving very difficult to use. Standing is fine. Sitting is exceedingly painful. Walking I can do. Just! 

I’ve taken to just lying out flat on the habitation floor and it seems to be working.

Costs: fuel seventy three euros; sosta Free.