Cortona to Petrignano

Looking out over the olive groves, with thunder clouds in the distance. I'm heading that way!!!

The very welcome bed waiting for me when I arrived. Such a beautiful old building 14C I believe. Fabulously furnished with antique furniture.

Those thunder clouds are getting darker, and closer, and the thunder is more constant and louder.

Crossing the border from Tuscany to Umbria. Maybe I won't get the rain after all.!!?? Yeah right.

Just one of the cute little vege gardens I cycle past every day.

Well you know what they say about the “best laid plans of mice and men” well it applies to women as well. I got up nice and early with the intention of doing the 51 km ride today. I was feeling great and the day looked pretty much okay, although I knew that rain and thunder was forecast again for later on this afternoon. But I thought if I got away early enough I would hopefully be at the next hotel before the rain started.
Oh Heather what a dreamer you are. Hiccup number one – got talking at breakfast so instead of having my coffee in the lounge while sending my blog and checking my emails and trying to skye Roxy and Rowan, I was still in the dining room.
Hiccup number two – last night the receptionist reminded me (at 8.30pm just as I was going over to the restaurant for dinner that I needed to pay for my cooking class in cash. Well I didn't think too much about that as I assumed she just meant I had to pay for it as an extra and that it wasn't included in the price of the room and meals and just said “si grazie” and went off for dinner. Well this morning when I went to pay for my wine and my cooking class etc, they really did want real cash. I couldn't pay for it with my “travel card” Oh darn, I didn't have enough euros on me. I had tried to get some more out of the bancomat in Cortona yesterday, but my transaction was declined. That sometimes happens, so I didn't panic at the time, because when I made a purchase in a shop the card worked perfectly fine. (and Roxy you will be pleased to hear that I bought a ceramic “c” to go on the wall at my front door. Had to buy the numbers separately so to have 120c would have been too big so just went with the letter )
So I have to cycle 5 minutes up the road to the bancomat at the Co-op. So off I head on the main road, to a shopping centre, a bit like any shopping centre in NZ, ( a supermarket, a hairdresser, a shoe shop, a tobacconist, a dress shop, etc) with the bancomat (that's the ATM machine). Well, yep you guessed it, my bleeding card didn't work in this one either. So this is where the anxious moment for the day happened. Oh hell, what to do now. This big flash hotel won't let me use my card, I have no money, but more importantly why won't my card work. There should still be heaps of money in it. I have been carefully documenting everything I spend, because I know I can't ask the machine for a balance. And the travel card is in Euros so I can keep tabs on it without always having to convert it, so what the hell is the problem.
So I try to ring Allan, he will be probably on his way to collect my suitcase, so he should know where I can go to find a real bank. But, he's not answering his phone. So I cycle back to the hotel, where the lovely lady Christina says she will take what cash I have and will put the rest on my card. I didn't like that solution very much because it left me no cash at all for the day. So we opted to ring Allan again, and this time he answered the phone and told me to wait where I was, he was only fifteen minutes away. He took me to a another bancomat which was outside a bank so if I had a problem with the machine I could hopefully sort the problem out inside. He said he often has problems like this, and at one stage, his bank had declined his transactions because his card was being used in Italy – just a security measure even though he had informed his bank that he was in fact living in Italy.
Luckily the card worked at this machine, so we could return to the hotel, pay my bill and get on my way. By this time of course the morning was racing on, and the threat of the thunder and lightening and heavy rain was still very real. So Allan suggested, and I might add I readily accepted his offer, to be driven up the first hill to get the views from Cortona, and then he would drive me to the next wee village – Montecchio – and I could cycle from there. That would save me 10km. That sounded like a good deal to me, and he said to keep an eye on the weather and the time when it came to making the choices of the 38km or the 51km loops to Petrignano. But at that time the weather was looking good and not too hot.
So off we set in the van. Up that hill (again described as gentle) and they dropped me outside a supermarket in Montecchio. So I thought that would be a good place to buy some picnic supplies and after they drove off I went in. In the middle of this tiny wee shop, in this tiny wee village there was a cabinet with a whole roast pig in it. So I asked for a panini (sandwich) and the woman cut off great slices of this pork, rubbed each slice with the juices and spicy bits around the outside, added some of the crackling – offered me the liver or kidneys or something which I declined – and she lumped it all between a crunchy bread roll. I got a can of coke, a couple of peaches and a handful of cherries, and I was on my bike.
The ride today was mostly gentle and when I got to the spot where I had to make the choice of the short trip straight to the hotel or the longer trip, chose the longer trip. There were clouds all around and the thunder had been rumbling in the distance, but it was still sunny and warm, so I thought I had time up my sleeve. But when it came time to make the choice for the long or short trip at the next spot, I was feeling a bit anxious about the clouds and the thunder which was much closer now, and very frequent. The temperature was still warm, but I thought the best option was to get to the hotel before the rain.
I stopped to take photos of the lake, had a quick drink of water and opted to get going. The smell of the pork panini was getting too me, but I figured I needed to keep going and I could eat when I got to the hotel. At this stage I had 13km to go. So off I whizz down the hill, just as these huge raindrops started to fall. Not much at this point, but huge drops, so I decide to look for somewhere to shelter, and just as it starts to rain heavily, I see a car shed on the side of the road beside a house, with a bit of an overhang at the front which I was hoping might keep me dry. So I stop and back up to the garage door, and yes, it will keep the most of the rain off me. An man did it rain, and thunder and lightening. So I decide that I am going to be here for a while, if yesterdays storm was anything to go by, so I might as well have my lunch. So here I am, in the middle of a storm eating the most delicious pork panini. I was getting a little wet, but not too bad, and about half way through my sandwich a girl pulls up in a car, waves her hands at me, shakes her head and from that I gather this is her garage and she wants to get inside so I move out into the pouring rain while she remotely opens her shed, backs in and quikly shuts the shed door again. The miserable girl, she could have left it open so I could get out of the rain for a while, but no, not a word, not a gesture, just the door shutting behind me. So as soon as it was shut, I backed myself up against it again and tried my darndest to keep dry. At one stage the direction of the rain altered and it came straight in at me, but it quickly changed direction again, and at one stage it was actually hailing, huge great big hail stones. Here we are in the middle of summer, and it is hailing. Oh so much for a Tuscan
Summer.
The storm finally passed over and it was time to get back on the bike. I was drenched, and as I set off I was actually quite cold and dithered over whether I should change my top, but while I was deciding the sun came out, and within about ten minutes I was warm again, the road (which only minutes ago was flooded and running like a small stream) was now drying out. Within about 45 minutes I was stinking hot again.
And so I survived the thunder storm and rode on to arrive at the next hotel. And again, it is luxurious. I felt such a mess walking up to reception, and although dry by now, certainly bedraggled and splattered with mud. Oh what a sight I must have looked, and after she took my details, she showed me to my room – such a beautiful room – old fashioned, antique furniture, beautiful old pictures in gilt frames, and a window opening out on the immaculate garden.
Time for a shower, and a nana nap, before dinner at 7.30pm. And then up to the restaurant. Wow – talk about style and class and posh. Silver service dining here. The maitre d' handed me the wine menu – the book which looked like some beautiful antique manuscript weighed a bloomin ton and the bottles of wine ranged in price from E20 to 375. That must be some wine. And of course I was only wanting one glass, so I felt like a bit of a cheapskate really.
Beside each table were these pretty little footstool type things. The waiter rearranged mine to be beside where I was sitting, and I puzzled as to what this was for. Was he going to kneel in front of me while I ordered, Nope. At this stage I was the only one in the restaurant so I couldn't take a lead from anyone else. So I just puzzled over it in the meantime.
The matire d' told me I was able to have three courses, an antipasto, a first plate and a second plate, or I could order a 1st plate, 2nd plate and dessert. I told him I would go with the dessert option. I ordered ravioli, which was served with pesto. Beautifully presented, seemed a shame to eat it. And I ordered the fillet mignon. A lot of the food on this menu was seafood so I had to be very careful here. But I figured the beef was a safe option. And again that came out looking way to good to eat. It was served with zuchini and cherry tomatoes. Delicious and the steak was tender, but not as tender as the steak we used to eat at Volare in Tauranga. That one did not need a steak knife to cut it, where this one did.
And then my place was cleared, I assumed so that I could order my dessert. I waited. The people at the table next to me were given the dessert menu. I wasn't. There dessert arrived and they picked at it. (the girl had only eaten half her main course as well – they both chose the steak) and the man was offered coffee which arrived, and still I am sitting with just my now empty wine glass and my water glass which I am sipping at to look busy.
He drinks his coffee and they get up to leave, leaving their bottle of champagne pretty much untouched and both their glasses still full. Why pay all that money to order a meal and not eat it? Must have other things on their mind I guess. They are only young after all.
And still I sit. The waiters carefully skirt around me and if I look up they don't make eye contact. So I decide I'm obviously not getting dessert, and I am not going to be offered coffee so I might as well leave. Oh and by the way, the little footstools – well they are to put your handbag on. Very classy, so when I discovered this I discreetly picked my bag up from by my feet on the other side and shifted it onto the stool.
Oh and just one more thing, I think we have better table manners than all these European people. The girl at the table next door kept putting th knife in her mouth, and they hold their knife and fork funny as well.
And so back to my room. I called in at reception, because this place has wi-fi (the Headwater book is a bit out of date as I think everyone has wi-fi now) but again, I couldn't connect, I think my computer is too small and I need to be sitting closer to the main computer, so I will try again in the morning.
Starting to feel incredibly sleepy, so will shut down now.
Ciao