Italy Trip
early evening -
reflecting on the water
birdsong
Just had a week away. A mini break to Italy. I’m so fortunate to live thirty minutes or so from France and Germany, and it takes less than four hours to drive to the Italian border, so it’s handy for short trips, especially if you take the dog. We don’t drive more than six hours in one day. With a couple of pee-stops, mostly for us, we book in for a one night stay, half way to Toscana, our destination.
Our holidays are generally themed around doing nothing. For M, it is a time to rest. Me? Well doing nothing is my normal daily routine, so it’s mostly me doing what I normally do, only in a different setting.
One night we spent in a converted farm. 300 years it has been in the same family, the old man proudly told us. The room was rustic though garden was highly pimped. Paisley liked it, we played with the football there and she met the owner’s dogs.
Next day, after vomiting five times due to the sat-nav taking us the wavy route, we reached our friends house in Toscana, that’s Tuscany to you English speakers.
There’s no better way to holiday than to stay in someone’s home, especially if they can cook. Meat being way cheaper in Italy meant we ate flesh. Cooked inside the house, in their fireplace, barbecue style. A little bit too bloody for me but I don’t like to come across uncultured so I ate it all without grimacing. I also don’t like to appear fussy/spoilt. I save my moans for garlic, our hosts know of my aversion, so my food was delicious.
middle of nowhere
every shade of green -
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wet summer
With no phone connection, not that I have one, a drive to civilisation for coffee and connection was done daily. I watched those so called, non-dependent, anti-tech, above that kind of thing people, shoot-up on screen time whilst I daydreamed taking in the Italian ambience.
I did take my Kindle and my old Cyber Shot digital camera, which sounds way more impressive than the photos it produces BUT it is trusted to work okay even after 20 years.
My host thought he was rather witty, telling the lovely waiter how un-Italian, the freaky Brit was not liking Garlic. And I laughed when the waiter turned around and said he hated garlic too. We instantly bonded and he offered to get the chef to prepare me something special. I declined and asked for a ‘real’ Italian Pizza, a margarita. A highlight of the trip.
We walked, I read Tom Hardy, played with the dog, and we visited a huge outdoor market in Grossetto, where I bought 3 pkts of incense sticks for 5 euros.
We had another stopover halfway home, this hotel was so impressive for the price. Booked in advance we paid roughly £78 for the 3 of us including breakfast. I’ll add the photos. I saw a couple of Brits there, I think they may, though probably not, have thought I spoke very good English for a Swiss guy. Just hope my diluted Black Country accent didn’t give me away.
We left the hotel at 9am was back home on my sofa by 2. I’m always happy to be home. Now the hot summer can come if it wants, I’m going nowhere.
