Whoa - I only had one glass of wine - honestly

I was so eager to post the photos last night that I didn't prove read what I had just written. It should have read "I have just returned to my room"

So just a little blog today. We have just had the last sessions of the conference - it has been action packed since Friday night. We had workshops on Friday, all day Saturday, the dance last night and workshops this morning and two panel discussions this afternoon. Some of the workshops included a bit of dancing, but mostly listening to presentations, but so good. So much information and so good to hear what's going on in the wider dancing world.

And last nights dance was fabulous. Felt so strange to be surrounded by Scottish Country Dancers who spoke with all sorts of accents, and lots of them not being able to even speak English. A huge contingent came from Italy to join us for the night - All the men wearing loads of tartan - some very formally dressed, others wearing tartan sashes or jackets, and all of the ladies in white frocks with sashes. What a fantastic sight - as the photos I posted last night show.

Now I know where all the men were while was cycling round Italy - they were practicing the dances on the programme - but I did manage to get a photo with a handful of them. They were so lovely, some very good dancers. The man in the bottom photo is Fabio, the man I had been in contact with before coming to Italy - he runs the classes around the place and does all the 18th Century dancing.

And I managed to catch Katrina's brother in one photo as well - we had planned to have a photo together but the night was so busy we weren't on the same side of the hall at the same time.

Anyway, one last night here - I'm going out for dinner with some friends from Australia, and then will spend the day in Geneva tomorrow, and then folks - it's all over. I'm on the plane tomorrow night and before I know it this wonderful holiday will just be a memory.

How quickly it has gone.
But what a lot of memories I have, and loads and loads of photos.

So guys, see you all soon.
Ciao.

The dance at Geneva

So confusing - hotel is in France, but the dance is in Geneva. No time to write anything tonight, it's after 2am and have just returned to my returning after having a drink with Andrew and Mechtild so am just going to quickly add some photos from the ball. There are about 60 people at the conference, but a huge contingent came from Italy to dance with us tonight. It was absolutely fabulous. But will write more about it tomorrow after the conference finishes.

Ciao

Arrivederci Italy

Arrivederci Italiano
Well I have survived 26 days in Italy without getting arrested, getting married, having my butt pinched, getting lost (well really lost that is) getting on the wrong train, getting off the train at the wrong place, or really getting myself into any strife whatsoever. Not bad for an old lady who doesn't speak more than a few words of Italian, who has never travelled anywhere on her own before, and who lacks confidence in herself.
A few anxious moments of course, and then today already I have had two. The first on the way to the train station – I only had a couple E50 bills left and the taxi ride this morning was on E5.50. Getting from the station to the hotel was E12. So the taxi driver was not very happy at 7.30am having to dish out all that change and in the end only charged me E5. One win to me for a change.
His loss actually because I was going to tip him because he had helped me with my heavy suitcase, but he made such a song and dance about the note, and didn't give me any coins in change, I wasn't going to tip him E5. So he lost out.
And then anxious moment No. 2. On reading the Eurorail book last night, I discovered that the train to Geneve' requires a reservation. Oh darn, here goes another 20 or 30 Euro on top of this dammed expensive rail pass. So when I get to the treno stazione at 7.55 and the train goes at 8.25 and I see the crowds and the huge queues at alla biglietteria (the ticket office) I decide to just get on the bloody train and hope like hell that nobody checks my ticket until I am just about at Geneve' (most of my tickets have been checked well into the journey , and I know now to write the date in before I get on the train).
But here comes Murphy again. The ticket inspector is on the job early this morning. We are 15 minutes into the journey, not even out of the greater Milano area yet, and he is babbling away in Italian and pointing to my ticket. I know what he is wanting, but I shake my head, hand him my passport and he tells me to wait there un minuto. Like I am going to go anywhere you silly man. I am on a moving train!!! So he brings back a younger man who speaks English who explains this is a Eurocity train and requirs a reservation. I smile my sweetest, dumb old lady smile and apologise most profusely and he charges me E13, clicks my ticket, he smiles sweetly and we are both happy. The old man then smiles sweetly and hands me back all my bits and pieces of paper and off he goes on his way obviously happy as well. Here's hoping the rest of the journey is trouble free.
And now it is 9.12am, not yet an hour into the journey and I have had my first glimpse of snowcapped mountains, and have been past a lake (two stations on the lake front Dormaletta -or something like that – and Arona. It looks lovely but as yet have not had a clear enough view of the mountains to snap a picture.
I can't get over how different things are here. Just as you get used to one way of doing things, then something else happens. This morning a boy brought a cart through the carriage selling coffee and food, but it was just as I was trying to sort out the ticket confusion so I missed out. But on all the trains I have travelled on I haven't had that before. Anyway it was only about an hour since I had breakfast so I didn't really need anything to eat or drink yet , but I wonder if he will come back a bit later in the trip.
Just as you get used to how to dress and eat a salad, using salt oil and balsamic, then it changes to just salt and oil, and up here in Milano just wine vinegar. One really has to be adaptable
The scenery is changing quickly out the window now and so I will stop writing for a while and just soak it all up. It is so pretty. Shame that there are trees all along the way, and train lines and power lines in the way of the camera, but I am clicking away as fast as I can.
Well the train has just stopped at Lausanne. And anxious moment No 3 has just cropped up. All of a sudden the announcements are in another language. I guess either swisss or German, but whatever, I don't understand a word again, having just gotten used to making out about one in ten words in Italian in an announcement. Oh darn. And guess what, I don't have a phrase book to help me here. I never really thought about it. All I really concentrated on was that I was going to a dancing event in Geneva, and so just assumed that the only language I would need would be English. Forgot about the train, the station, the hotel, the money machine etc.etc. I wonder what lies in store for me now.
I did manage to get an email through to the Kaleidoscope organiser, in response to an email asking me to confirm travel arrangements so that I could be picked up at the airport. I replied advising him I was travelling by train and I was at the time in Milan, en-route to Geneva and was not sure what train I was going to catch. At that time 8.25am seemed a bit early to be trying to catch a train in Milan, given how busy the station was when I arrived a couple of days ago. But then on looking at the train timetable the next one didn't get me to Geneva till almost tea time, so I changed my mind and opted for the early one. However, in the interim I had another email from Jerry, his main concern seemed to be that (despite three emails regarding the registration fee of E70 which I had difficulty paying from NZ and which we agreed I would pay on my arrival at the hotel) was did I have a receipt for my registration as they did not seem to have a copy of it, and if I hadn't already paid, would I do so. And also to phone the hotel on my arrival at the airport (didn't he understand I am coming by train) to organise a shuttle. So apart from now having the hotel's telephone number, I am really no better off than I was before I replied to his first email. The only other thing is that I know I have to get some money out of the machine at the railway station as I only have about E75 left in cash. I presume that all the euros are the same now with this EU thing. Much easier than when John and I travelled in the 70's, each border we crossed we had to get new money and make sure we used up the old stuff before we crossed over otherwise you were stuck with it. The Eurocard is certainly working well mostly (only Cortona where I had the problem) the only thing now is that the money is fast disappearing.
Well the time is racing by, and we are now following the lake , which suddenly popped up on the left side of the train some time ago. I was busy watching out my window – taking photos, taking in the view when I just happened to glance to my left and wow -there is this huge expanse of grey blue water with hills in the background.
And just like everywhere else in the world, grafitti along the train tracks, on all the bridges, on the stations, on the old buildings.
The sky is pale pale blue, with a lot of cloud, it looks cooler, but then I am sitting right beside the train airconditioning so I am feeling quite cold in fact, so I suppose I will be in for a bit of a surprise when I get out at the station – like when I got out of the train in Milano. It was so sticky hot there, sure hope isn't as hot here.
One good thing, while checking my emails last night, I was able to print off the Kaleidoscope timetable. Registration takes place between 4 and 5 this afternoon, dinner 6-7 then workshops tonight until 10. breakfast early and workshops all day with 10 minutes breaks mid morning and mid afternoon for coffee and one hour for lunch. A very full programme, with great topics – Can't wait to hear what they have to say. And then of course the dance tomorrow night.
Well, will be arriving in another 20 minutes or so, so I might rearrange my handbag, and pack this wee notebook away safely between my passport folder and my bruschetta plate (still carefully wrapped in bubble wrap and taking pride of place in my overnight bag – oh how I hope it arrives home safely).
Ciao for now

Probably a bit hard to see, but that is the Prada shop in the arcade near the Duomo, which is pictured below.

Well thank goodness for in-house television programmes. Last night I watched (well what I could understand that is) of the promotional video on the hotel TV and I decided that Milano looked a bit more interesting that what I had seen from my hotel room and in the taxi on the way from the station, so what the hell – stay another night. And I was a bit loathe to try the internet on the credit card scenario down in the lobby, so wasn't able to contact the organisers of Kaleidoscope. And, (and this is probably the biggest reason) after I got back from my walk down the street to get some dinner, I fell asleep and didn't wake until quite late (around 11pm I think it was) and so I wasn't going to head down into the lobby then to check my emails anyway.
And then I woke early this morning to a beautiful sunny day, (after rain and thunder again last night walking back from dinner) so that sealed the decision to stay another day here. And thankfully the hotel room was available for tonight as well.
So, after breakfast I headed out to catch the tour bus which went round the city. Two different routes, the blue route or the red route and it was a get on and off when you liked type of tour. A commentary, in English via headphones, made it much more enjoyable, and what a great way to see the city. I was tempted not to get off and see the Duomo. Like how many have I seen now ….. but when I saw the outside of it I just knew I had to go inside. And wow!!!!!!! wow!!!!!!!!! wow!!!!! what an amazing building. I really cannot find the words to describe this incredible building. It is huge. It is ornate. It is beautiful. It is peaceful and awe-inspiring. It is just truly amazing. There were parts that tourists could not visit – unless you were going to confession and there were dozens of confessional boxes where priests were listening to peoples confessions. Must be a lot of naughty people in Milano!!!
And the organ was playing. It was truly wonderful. There are dozens of little nooks and crannies all filled with stained glass windows, statues, paintings, pillars, places to light candles and to just kneel in front of the alters. I cannot get over how huge it is, and when during the bus trip learning about the devastation of the city during the war, that these places actually survived. It is just incredible.
The piazza outside the Duomo is very busy, full of tourists, and there were dozens of these dark men (I presume illegal immigrants) selling (I presume) these little bangles made of thread. While I was taking a photo of the Duomo one young man (rather a fine looking young chap actually, shiny black, couldn't speak Inglese – thank goodness – and I just kept shaking my head) tied one of the bracelets on my wrist, and told me it was for good luck . He then held out his hand – I assume for money but I shook my head, said 'pokare kare ana,' to which he shook his head, stroked my hand and walked away shaking his head. But this colourful bracelet on my wrist then protected me from the rest of them who were trying to foist these things on all the tourists. Perhaps I'm married to him now. Who knows, but it is quite pretty and will make a nice addition to my scrapbook when I get home, and as I said, I didn't get pestered by anyone else for the rest of the day.
Just alongside the Duomo is this amazing arcade – Louis Vuitton, Prada, etc etc and where the price of everything else is escalated to match the price of the goods in the shops. An icecream, one scoop, one flavour cost E3. Anywhere else I have had one the most I have paid is E1.50 and that was in Florence. Most other places about E1 or E1.10. But I had to have my favorite Limone gelato. It is so refreshing – a sorbet I think because it is not creamy and it is quite thirst quenching.
The shops are amazing. So glamorous. A shoe shop I went past was selling shoes for E685 (multiply that by 2.74 to bring it to NZ dollars. Wow that is some pair of shoes. Boots were dearer than that. The clothes, the colours, the fabrics. Managed to get a couple of pictures, but most of the shop windows are so lit up that the reflections make it impossible to photograph through the glass.
Talking about photos, outside the Duomo there are big signs – silence please, no talking, no phones, no photos, no videos, no food, no drinks. And the ladies had to cover their shoulders (good business for the little Asian girl outside selling scarves). But the number of people who completely ignored all the rules. There were people in there eating, and the place looked like an arcade there were so many cameras flashing. I am surprised that they don't enforce the rule, I mean the signs are big enough and in every language, so there really is no excuse. I really would have liked to have taken some photos, but afterall it is a church, and so once again I respected that, I just have to hope that the pictures of the outside will be enough to remind me of just how amazingly beautiful it really was.
Of note, there was a bookshop inside the cathedral selling books and tasteful souvenirs, but even the pictures in the book did not do justice to the beauty of the building.
And so after a couple of hours at this stop, I got back on and off the bus around both routes, finally making my way back to where I got on. I now really am old buildinged out. But I am so glad I decided to stay and have a look at this city. It is a mixture of old and new and the oldest part is 13C and all around new buildings still going up.
I didn't manage to find anything that looked like the photos that I had of Dad in Milan. And I showed them to the bus driver but he couldn't recognise the church, and thought it must be out of the city somewhere. That was a shame, but I tried.
And so now time for some dinner. Might just try the hotel restaurant tonight. The main eating places (the night life part of Milan is quite a way from here, and unfortunately the “Milano by night” bus trip only goes on a Friday night. Same old same old – always a day too late or a day too early. Don't really fancy walking around the city at night on my own. Although the one good thing is that it doesn't get dark till quite late. I might just go back where I was last night. That pizza was jolly good.
Oh and I saw green olives today – a bowl full of them on a table in that fancy arcade. Great big fat green ones. But the place had real ponsy looking waiters hovering outside, bow ties, white gloves etc etc, so I figured that the cost of the olives would be way outside my price range and having just paid double what I had been paying just for an icecream, I kept right on walking.
Okay, time to go and find something to eat - all I had at lunch time was a little mini pizza type thing – just one mouthful, and a delicious lemon custard tart, and I ate a couple of peaches when I got back to the hotel, so I am starting to feel a little peckish.
So will catch you all later.
Ciao.

Leaving Tuscany

I am not sure that OSH would approve of this balcony!!!

One of the dozens of little alley ways I walked up in down during my day in MontepulcianoI

Sunrise over Montepulciano - 5.23am

Leaving Tuscany.
I was awake again at just after 5am, but the sunrise was not as pretty this morning. The same noisy birds and barking dog were the only sounds at that time of the morning. I feel very sad to be leaving this beautiful area, and I hope one day to return. So many things still to see, I really have only touched on a very small part of the area.
The highlights – well all of it really. Alan asked me the other night what the highlight for me was, but I really couldn't say because it was all so good. I guess the biggest thing is that I have done it. A dream come true, and today going by van from Albergo San Biagio through Chianciano and down that hill that I cycled up, it is hard to believe that I actually did it. I think if I had travelled it by van first, and if Alan had told me on that very first day that I would be cycling up this hill, I would have certainly thought twice about doing it. So I guess it was luck that my hand was sore and I got picked up from Terontola instead and went a different way to San Biagio for that first nights rest.
My anxious moment this morning was knowing that I was going to be arriving in Milano about 4.00pm and I don't have an hotel booking. No wi-fi here, so was hoping that it wasn't going to be a repeat of my arrival in Firenze. The lovely owner at San Biagio further worried me by saying that Milano is big and busy and very commercial and industrial and that hotels are incredibly expensive, and I could expect to pay up to E250. OMG. But she kindly offered to look on the internet for me and we ended up booking a room at the Accor Ibis.. It was advertised at E69 for a room, so I said could we book on-line but she preferred to phone and it ended up costing me E92 without breakfast, but what the heck, at least I have a room, and I can get a taxi from the stazione. Darn, perhaps I should have kept up my Accor Advantage card (and I didn't bring the expired one with me either)
My bag is very heavy, and I have taken as much out as I can squeeze into my overnight bag, but it is the bag full of books, maps and souvenir brochures for my scrapbook that weigh so much, so when it comes time to fly home, I will take them out and carry them on as hand luggage. Alan estimates as is the bag probably weighs close to 25kg. I have carefully put the bruschetta plate in my overnight bag, I am terrified it will get broken, if I try to pack it in my suitcase, it feels very fragile. And I am still carrying around the postcards, I haven't found a post office yet. I feel I am going to beat the cards home at this rate. Oh well, at least you will know I was thinking of you when you get them..
So after paying my bill for my extra night at San Biagio and booking the Ibis, I turned around and Alan and Linda were walking in the door. Linda is wearing the lovely wee paua shell earings I gave her, and they really look lovely on her and tone in fabulously with the purple top she is wearing. And so a last ride through Tuscany to Chuisi-Chianciano railway station in time to catch the 10.13am treno to Milano. And in true Italiano style the board says ritardo 10 minuto. But on the plus side the treno is leaving from binnario uno, which means I don't have to struggle up and down stairs to get to bin 4. Alan offered to carry my bag one last time then on checking the departure board heaved a sigh of relief and said, “that's right bin 1, you are going to Milano, not Roma which is where most of the Headwater people head to leave to go back to the UK.”
And now I am on the train. It arrived exactly 10 minutes late and now we are whizzing through the countryside' hills all round. It's nice to be able to enjoy the scenery without having to struggle up another hill. Now how come the train is managing to go on a flat route. Hardly fair is it.
But from the train you see a much different part of the country side. You pass through more industrial areas which I really haven't seen much on my bike ride. There appear to be train tracks criss-crossing all over the place and we either pass over them or under them, likewise main roads, sometimes over us, sometimes we go over them. And lots of tunnels.
So back to trying to summarise the highs and lows.
Only a couple of lows really – the lonely romantic dinners and the puncture which I couldn't repair. Alan told me there was a rather big hole in the tube, right near where the previous repair was, but on the other side. How come I couldn't see it. Obviously wasn't looking hard enough.
And as for the highs – achieving the ride, making it up the hills, the walk up to Montepulciano, the cooking class, the history, the shops, the food, the wine, the whole splendour of Tuscany. The amazing scenery, the marvelous hilltop communities (each one a little different and each with their own special charm). Of them all – Montepulciano, San Quirico, Pienza, Chianciano, Montefollinco, Cortona - to choose one that I liked more than the others. Hard to choose, but I loved Pienza. It was small and quaint and charming, but Montepulciano would have to come a very close second if not first.
Just pulled through Firenze Rovenezza and the railway sidings are absolutely covered with the most amazing grafitti. Huge colourful murals really. Miles and miles and miles of it, every single part of the fence is painted but the train is going too fast for me to capture it on film. Maybe there is more at the main Firenze station. I have got my camera ready in case we go slow enough past it.
And then of course there is the usual gobbledy-goop stuff as well which is just messy. Reminds me of the train ride I took in Melbourne and the grafitti all along the way there. Obviously the areas along the railway tracks here are more poorer areas, because a lot of the buildings look run down and in need of painting and plaster repairing, and those buildings have been targetted by the messsy destructive taggers. Much the same as any city I guess. But I certainly didn't see any evidence of tagging around the hilltop villages. Probably too hard to tag those rough stone buildings, or maybe it is too hard for them to walk up there. Or maybe the taggers have respect for the buildings and the history. Who knows.
And now it 2.00pm and this train was supposed to originally arrive at Milano at 3.12, but it was 10 minutes late leaving Chuisi and now we have been stuck in the middle of nowhere for the last half hour or more, and the man who has arrived to sit in the seat opposite has informed me that the motor on the train has died. And Murphy at work again – Amazing how he seems to be following me on this trip. I had the option to change trains at Bologna and take the Eurostar which would have gotten me into Milano half an hour earlier, and we are still stuck here. However, the thought of lugging my suitcase off the train at Bologna, changing platforms and getting back onto another train was a bit too much of an effort, and also I think you have to reserve a seat on the Eurostar and so pay more, so having spent a heap on this travel pass I decided to just stick with the regional train. Well – I think that was the Eurostar to Milano that has just gone whizzing past us.
Well, the airconditioning is still working thankfully, so the train is relatively cool, and it isn't crowded in my carriage and a couple of people have left the carriage next door and come in here, I wonder if it was because there was a dog barking madly in there. But there is a constant stream of passengers moving past me and going backwards and forwards, don't know where they are going, but I am not about to go and investigate. I don't know if there is a dining carriage on here or not, but too much of an effort and I am loathe to leave my suitcase, even though it is probably too heavy for any wannabe handbag snatcher.
But what a waste of a perfectly good day, sitting in a train. The thought has just come to me that perhaps I should have taken an overnight train. Aha, it seems not. Have just done a quick look through the Eurorail timetable and as it is five hours from Chuisi to Milano that would have meant getting to the station in the middle of the night. Not a good idea huh. And so against the rules for “women travelling alone.”
We are back on the move again. Travelling through agricultural areas, vineyards, and small places which we don't even stop at.
I wonder what awaits me in Milano. I have three photocopies of the photos that De sent me just before I left, which show my dad outside a building in Milano in 1945. I want a photo of me outside that same building and really, apart from checking out a few fashion store windows, that is all I want to see of Milano. I must admit to being almost to the all churched out, all frescoed out, all statued out stage by now, and I have done all the shopping I can afford to do, or more's the point, can carry home, so am looking forward to seeing something different now, and arriving in Geneva and catching up with some dancing type people. You know, my kind of people who talk my kind of language.
I guess really I am at the stage where I actually just need to talk. It is very difficult to go for twenty something days, with at the most, two hours conversation in a day, and most of those days with only a few barely understood conversations.
Like take the conversation I had when I got on the train this morning. That is over four hours ago. A lady asked if she could sit beside me so that she was facing the direction the train is going. I said of course. And then we tried ever so hard to conduct a conversation with her speaking “Inglese – solo un po” and me speaking Italiano solo un po as well. I did establish that she had been la vacanza with her familia and she showed me her photos of the holiday, and I shared some of mine with her, and then it just became too difficult and she took out her mazaine to read and I labelled yesterdays photos. So I guess we chatted for perhaps half an hour on and off and then she shook hands with me and said piachiere ( nice to meet you) as she left the train at Bologna. And so back to talking to myself as we rattle our way north to Milano.
We appear to have left the hills behind us for a while and looking at a map of Italy, we must be somewhere about level with Genoa, but in the middle of the country and still probably about an hour and a bit away, and I would think somewhere in the area that dad was in. The army records that Mel photocopied for me before I left showed that he landed in Napoli, but gave very little information about where he was stationed, although the photos that Dee had were labelled Milano. So it would seem that he actually saw quite a bit of the country, although I would assume that they were transported by a troop train. I would hope that they didn't have to march this far.
But I guess a project for me when I get home will be to try and put it all together. It would have been nice to have had a chance to do it before I came, but I think it will actually mean a lot more when I actually get home and have a good picture in my mind of where everything is. We are just pulling into Parma, and that rings a bell for some reason (was it on the army documents I wonder). Anyway, just knowing that I am somewhere near is important
Well Parma was a busy place, all of a sudden the train was full and there were people standing everywhere. So I had to put away my laptop and put my overnight bag on my knee to make room for other passengers.
And so we finally pulled into Milano Centrale. What a huge railway station. It looks at least twice (maybe more) the size of what I remember Wellington Railway station to be. And crowded. People everywhere. Noisy, hot. OMG what the heck am I doing here. And here we go, stairs again to get out. I find the taxi station and finally work out where I am supposed to stand to get a taxi. Remember Heather the opposite side of the road to what you are used to. I ask the driver to take me to the IBIS and guess what – there are two IBIS hotels in Milan. Great!!! So he takes me to the closest and tells me to run in and check that there is where I am booked. Well no it appears not, and so they check the other, and no not there either, but they have a spare room here so I say I'll stay and run out and tell the taxi driver it's here and grab my suitcase and pay him E10 for the privilege of him bringing me here.
So back inside and start the registering process. It takes so long, and then once she had my passport she found that I was booked here after all. They had spelt it differently over the phone this morning.
So up to the 4th floor to a pokey little room with just enough room between the bed and the wall to stand my suitcase. I open the blinds and look out again at rooftops and take a photo of yet more thunder clouds. Yep, it's thundering here as well. What is it with me arriving or leaving in thunder.
So a quick freshen up and out to investigate the city. I only have a short time here, and I'm also starving, nothing to eat since breakfast time. So out I go, and find myself a pizza place, and have my first olives – on the pizza – cheese, tomato, salami and olives. It was okay too, but then I was hungry. But the olives weren't anywhere as nice as those big fat black olives we can buy at home. But the pizza was good, and I had a coffee afterwards and then headed back to the hotel It is still thundering and raining quite huge rain drops every few minutes. Not steady, just intermittent, but really big drops. It isalso incredibly hot and sticky.
And so, my last night in Italy. I think I will try and get hold of the Kaleidoscope organiser and head to Geneva tomorrow, if I can connect to the internet here.
So guys, this may well be my last blog from Italy. Catch you tomorrow.
Ciao.

Montepulciano

As I said in my last entry, I woke at 5.30am and have these amazing photos of the sunrise. I typed up those last notes and then, feeling tired still, despite a good long sleep, I snuggled back down again and slept until my alarm went off at 7.30am. And after a breakfast of cereal, fruit and yoghurt, and bread with a boiled egg, ham and cheese and two cups of coffee, I figured I needed to conquer this last hill.
But, true to form, I couldn't figure out the map. For some reason I cannot figure out whether to turn left or right. I turned the map around several times, had the hotel behind me and still couldn't work out which way to go. So I just started walking. Well the hill is on my right, so it would make sense to walk that way, but there is a quieter route, but for the life of me I can't find it. Anyway I manage to find a way up and it's steep, but achievable and afterall it was still early so not too hot at that stage. But what happened of course was I didn't enter the town centre on the road that Alan had suggested, so for the rest of the day I was kind of upside down and back to front. But never to mind, at least I knew vaguely where I was and so long as I headed back to the cathedral at the end of the day and headed back down the same way I knew I would be okay. And so I treated myself to a coffee in the piazza and sat and enjoyed some people watching and took a few photos. I went into two churches plus the cathedral – the cathedral was huge, and amazing. And I wandered up hill, down hill, up stairs, down stairs, down little lanes, and back up another, and had the most amazingly wonderful time, just enjoying being there and taking lots and lots of photos, to try and capture just how magnificent and beautiful this place is.
I found a wine outlet advertising that they could ship anywhere in the world, and I became their first customers to have wine and olive oil shipped to NZ. I tasted some wines, and they suggested some others, and to start with I was going to have 6 bottles altogether and then I thought – what about some olive oil, so we changed it to four bottles of wine and two of oil. Two totally different types of oil. And because I am shipping it out of Europe, I got 16% tax deducted off the wine and 4% tax off the oil. And the cost of the shipping was more than the cost of the wine but I just couldn't carry any more stuff, so decided, to hell with it, I want the wine for my dinner party, so just get it.
I was tempted to get some ceramics sent home as well, but again the cost of the shipping was going to be more than the products so I decided against that. I will just have to be content with my house number and my bruschetta plate.
I found this awesome place to have lunch – the girl asked if I wanted to sit out in the sun or downstairs, and I figured that downstairs was going to be nice and cool, and so opted to go down these incredibly stair stairs into what felt almost like a cave. It was lovely and cool, and I was intrigued with the place and how you would actually build something like this, and of course took a photo to remind myself of it. Here I enjoyed some melon and proscuitto and a beer, followed by a coffee. Just a nice light lunch.
I found the shoe shop (the factory outlet the same as the one in Pienza and was hopeful of some shoes in my size, but alas, all small here too. When I asked for shoes in my size the girl looked at my feet, shook her head and looked stunned – okay so I have big feet – I need them that size to hold me up you stupid girl. I would fall over if I had tiny wee feet like yours. Hers must have been about size 4 I think. So dainty!!! Oh to have cinderella size feet.
So sorry Roxy, shoes are off the list. And the hand made ones I saw in Cortona, were a strange shape. Again very small, amazingly beautiftul, but I'm sure my feet aren't that shape.
So I had to be content with a hand painted batik style Italian silk scarf. And of course the added bonus here is that it is light enough to carry home.
So a few more photos, a couple more wee souvenir purchases and I headed back down the hill to Albergo San Biagio.
And now time to rearrange my suitcase. My cycling gear to the bottom of the bag, my bag of maps and brochures and other bits of paper that I have collected in the suitcase and out with my overnight bag which I will use as a handbag for the next part of my trip, and all my souvenirs and purchases safely stored in between the clothes I am not going to need in Geneva. Washing up to date, spending money and bacnk card balanced and now sitting on the balcony of my room trying to decide whether I should walk up the road to the restaurant, for a pizza, or whether I should just make do with the couple of peaches and couple of nectarines that I bought at the supermarket on the way back to the hotel.
Oh yes that reminds me, last night I picked up a couple of things I needed at the supermarket, and also picked out some fruit and fronted up to the checkout expecting to have the fruit weighed at the checkout like we do at home. The checkout girl waved her hands about, and then picked it all up and disappeared. And so I held up the queue while she went and weighed the stuff. I didn't know whether I should follow her or not, so just stood there waiting. She came back with sticky tickets on the peaches and apricots and smiled sweetly and made some indication that probably meant I was supposed to do that before I got to the checkout.
So today, I asked first and she (same girl as last night) waved her hands about and pointed over to the corner where there were some scales with a whole host of nubers on it. So I stood and looked for a moment or two and figured out that each of the different fruits had a product code – i.e. peaches were 38, apricots were 35 and nectarines were 40. So I put the peaches on the scales, pushed 38 and walla – out prints a ticket saying pesca .55cents. And so I put on the apricots and pushed 35 and wow here comes the ticket for the apricots. How clever is that. Just starting to figure out the systems and it is time to think about heading home.
And so with my bag all packed all I need now is a good nights sleep and to prepare myself for a six hour train ride to Milan. And this hotel here does not have wi-fi so I can't check out a hotel in advance, so I am going to have the same problem as I had when I arrived in Florence. Darn. But I will stay there two nights (Wednesday and Thursday) and then I will catch the train to Geneva, and I am already booked into the hotel there. Oh heck – where are the details for that. One of the disadvantages of this wee computer is that I can't print off stuff, and the other disadvantage is that I didn't load old emails on to it before I left home. I hope I have the name of the hotel written somewhere, or I am going to be wandering around Geneva like a lost puppy.
Oh well, well finish off here, its nearly 8pm. Still very light and still incredibly warm. There was a bit of thunder late this afternoon, but it didn't bring any rain with it today. I wonder what Milan will bring.

Last day of cycling - Montepulciano here I come

It's 5.30am and I have just woken to the most amazing bird sounds coming from the surrounding trees. It is still very quiet outside apart from the birds, and a dog barking in the background, with just the occasional car or one of those noisy little three wheel jobbies going past.
I crashed immediately after getting upstairs after dinner last night, in fact I almost fell asleep at the dinner table. I was absolutely shattered after yesterday's final ride. It didn't matter which route I took yesterday, they were both going to be tough in parts, so I chose the longer ride of 38 kms to finish because this ride took me past Lake Montepulciano.
The decision to do 25k or 38k had to made very early on in the day – just 2k from the hotel gate in fact. Turn right to do the 25k or turn left to to do 38k. And of course after 2k of gentle riding, reasonably early in the morning while it was still cool, I thought huh I can do the 38k ride. I am getting good at this. A decision I kind of regretted later in the day, when it was hot, and I was tired and there was absolutely no shelter from the sun.
I remember looking out to my right at one stage and seeing this wee bit of water, and thinking to myself, I sure hope that is not Lake Montepulciano. That better not be the lake I have ridden all this way to see. It was nothing more than a pond, but thankfully a wee way further on there is the lake. It was worth coming to see, and the ride down alongside it, through the trees was beautiful and peaceful.
At one point I came across a couple of blokes standing in the middle of the road chatting. This was on a rather seriously uphill part. Just after I passed them, the younger of the two started jogging in the same direction as I was going. The little sod passed me, jogging uphill, with me in the lowest gear (I don't know – is it low to go uphill – I haven't worked out how these gears work yet, all I know is most of the cycling is done on 2 on the left hand and varying between 1 and 7 on the right hand, the 7 when it is easy and the 2 when it is tough going up hill. And then if the hill is really steep 1 on the left hand and again anything between 1 and 7 on the right hand.) So here I was in 1 and 1 and this young bloke runs past me. I am puffing and panting like an old train, so I stop for a drink and wish there was something worth taking a photo of, so that it looked like I had stopped for that reason,, not just because I was pooped.. And then on a bit further when the going gets a bit easier I catch him up and ha ha, I pass him as I head down hill. Take that, I think to myself, but woops what's this, another hill to climb. I have left him in the distance, so off I go up the hill and when I get to the top where the fabulous view of the lake is, I stop to take photos, and it is not long before he catches me up again. Man he is quick. But from here there is another long downhill, so I whizz down to do the “ride alongside the lake” bit in the notes and I don't see him again. I am sure it is not because I am keeping in front of him, he must have lived in that wee village I passed.
Well at about 9km into this ride I was already beginning to regret my decision. It was getting hot, and it had been steadily uphill most of the way. The notes say 'a steady ascent.' Well I make it to the top, and stop to take a breather and a drink of water, when the Headwater rep appears in front of me. He is on the suitcase delivery run, so stopped off to chat. Really great to have someone to talk to for a few minutes. He tells me I have a nice downhill stretch coming up and then there is more uphill to face and that he would see me about 6pm. I take the opportunity to have a photo taken with the bike before he happily gets into his van and drives off and leaves me here, in the middle of nowhere.
Oh well me thinks, nothing to do but get on with it. So off I go through the village of Porto. By this time the thought of a coffee or an ice cream or some fruit was whizzing through my head, but not a soul to be seen in this wee village and the bar and the mini-market both closed.
So onto the next stage Sentiero della Bonifica to Chianciano – only 13km. By now it is really getting hot and not a lot of shade around. The first part of this ride took me onto a cycle track which took me along a canal, over a river, under the main railway track and over another railway track and then onto a road that took me 7k (uphill) to Chianciano. That was a long way, and it was hot, and about 2.5k from the top I was overtaken by one of those spluttering, noisy little three wheel truck things. And then when I stopped to take another drink about 500m further on, the driver, all dressed in his matching lycra pants and top, was stopped on the side of the ride. Now he didn't speak a single word of English, but I think I managed to get that he was telling me I was crazy for being out in the midday sun, on a bicycle, riding up a hill. He asked where I was headed and when I told him Montepulciano he indicated that it was all uphill. I nodded knowingly, showed him on my map where I had come from and which way I was going, and he grabbed a real map out of his truck and showed me another way to Montepulciano and indicated a flatter road with just a wee hill at the end. I nodded again, smiled and declined his offer (well I think he was offering) to put my bike on top of his on the back of his wee truck and be taken up the hill. He shook his head, opened his arms and hands as if to say “you nutta” and he got in his truck and tottled noisily on up the hill, shaking his head dramatically as he drove away.
Another 50m further up the hill I was beginning to regret that decision also, but it was very hard because I really couldn't understand a word he was saying and he couldn't understand a word I was saying, so it really would have been too difficult to know what was happening really.
Along the cycle lane by the canal, I saw a couple of cyclists in the distance coming towards me, and they turned right at the point I turned left to finally reach the main road to Chianciano. Now I might add here that this cycle track is quite rough, full of potholes which were great big muddy puddles after all the rain we've had this week and at points we were riding through quite muddy parts. At the T junction these two guys were stopped . They had obviously finished their ride as they were standing beside their cars, cleaning down their bikes. They had big containers of soapy water and big containers of clean water and with paintbrushes they were soaping and rinsing their bikes, before putting them into the back of their cars. The nodded all friendly like as I approached, and crossed over the T junction and on toward Chianciano.
Well I finally made it to Chianciano. What a tought ride. But I made it. There was an option here – either go into the centero storico or turn off 30m before a stop sign and head on towards Montepulciano. I thought, I haven't ridden up this sodding hill to just turn off and not visit another hilltop village, so I continue that last 30m up the hill, turn left and push on for another 300m to enter the village.
And now it got interesting – a couple of guys were standing talking to each other at the gates. I was hot and bedraggled and absolutely exhausted by this stage and in serious need of something to eat and something other than water to drink. The older of the two guys started to chat to me. Of course I couldn't understand a word he was saying, and told him I spoke only a little Italian and asked him if he could speak Inglese. He could, and he said “but you are not Inglese?” so I told him no from Nuova Zelande and he said he had been to Wellington. He then decided he was going to be my personel guide through Chianciano.
A very friendly chap – and Roxy you will be pleased to know that I went through the checklist here a) single – yes, never married – travelled around too much to settle down.
b) rich – hard to tell, but travels a lot so must have some money at least.
c) fast car – no
d) owns a villa – no lives here in this wee village
e) loves family - again hard to tell – has no family of his own.
f) loves to travel – yes travels a lot with his work
And then the other part of the check list which you said I needed to ignore:
a) old – two years older than me and he was most flattering – calling me a lovely young thing and thought that I was about 35years old. Phew, and that was after I had just cycled up that bloody hill.
b) fat – yep carrying a few extra kilos like me
c) bald – no he wasn't bald but he was diabetic, and had diabetic ulcers on his legs, so has to watch what he eats, can't eat bread or pasta and cannot drink wine anymore.
Hey that is a lot to learn about someone in about half an hour – and I did learn that his name was Franco and he is coming to NZ again next year with his work (couldn't quite understand what he does but goes frequently to Zurich, Frankfurt, London, Boston and Australia) and he has also been to Fiji and NZ.
Anyway after explaining the panoramic view to me and posing for a photo with the view in the background he went off on his way, and left me to have some lunch at a bar. I was joined some minutes later by an old guy from Indianopolis USA who was travelling with a busload of 45 others around Tuscany. They had all gone off in the bus to Florence today and he had decided to just have a quiet day in Chianciano on his own, as he had been to Florence before, taking photos of the old buildings and the magnificent view, so he sat and we chatted about what we had seen and where we had been over the last few days. He thought that I was pretty corageous cycling around on my own.
One of the amazing things about travelling is that you meet the most incredible range of people, from all sorts of countries and from all walks of life and staying in these incredible hotels which have been chosen by Headwater I have come across some people I would never in a million years come across. Take the last night's dinner at Petrignano for instance - there were a couple of American women at the table next to mine. We chatted a bit between courses, but they were chatting constantly to each other through their meal, and whilst I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, when you are sitting alone with no-one else to talk to it is kind of hard not to hear what others are talking about. They compared notes with each other about all the travelling they had done in the last year – this was obviously a catch-up, chill out, spend a lot of money kind of trip for them. They too were pretty amazed that I was cycling, but I don't think they could fathom out why somebody would do that. They had flown from LA to Venice and had been met by a personal driver, who had taken them around all the things they wanted to see. Then they went by train to Florence and again were met at the station by a personal driver who drove them around to all the things they wanted to see there, and then drove them to Petrignano. I was sitting outside in my wee courtyard when they arrived, with this “driver” (wow where did they find that spunky guy?”) who wheeled all their luggage (and who would travel with that many bags? - obviously someone who didn't have to carry them all by themselves) up to their room next to mine.
And I heard them talking about how they get a driver when they travel interstate – or go out at night to the opera or the theatre etc. And their holidays sounded just oh so wonderful. How can people afford to travel like that. Oh how the other half live eh?
Oh well, back to my amazing adventure. After lunch at Chianciano the notes promise some downhill bits, but I now know that for every downhill there has to be an uphill and why is it that the uphill is so much longer than the downhill. And it was very very hot, and not a lot of shade out there. So I made the long uphill bits in 100m bursts. If there was a tree, I headed for it and rested in the shade while I caught my breath and then cycled on for the next 100m or so and took another breather. I can tell you, my training leading up to this trip was definitely not sufficient. Cycling from Greerton to Freedom at the weekends, with the odd evening ride thrown in, twice a week at the gym and a couple of attempts at going round the block including Maleme Street, was definitely not enough. And I should have figured it might be tough seeing that there are only two gradings for the trips in the Headwater book – a 1 cycle (easy grade) or 2 cycle (more challenging). And I should have read that as relatively easy and jolly tough.
However, I was determined to finish the trip under my own steam. And then as luck would have it, about 6kms from the end, I stopped for another drink (down to my last few mouthfuls of water now) and I look down just before getting back on my bike and discover a flipping flat tyre. Oh no, that was just the last straw. And Murphy's law – today I hadn't put the “How to repair a puncture instructions” in with my notes. I had packed them away with all the stuff I had finished with. Oh poos and wees. How much of my lesson from Sarah on my very first nervous morning on how to do this can I remember. So I unpack my panniers and find the repair kit. Well that's a good start, I had that with me. And I got out the pump and tried just pumping up the tyre first. No such luck, that didn't work. So I turn the stupid bike upside down and start. But I know I have done something wrong here - I need to disconnect the brakes, so I turn the bike back up the right way, but do you think I can remember how to do that. I know that it was simple, but I can't figure it out, so I think oh shivers I'll just see how I get on.
Well I get the tyre off and the tube out, but do you think I can find a hole. I can't. So I pump the tube up and see if I can find where it is leaking. Nope – and the tube doesn't seem to be going down very fast, so I stuff it back in the tyre, pump the stupid thing right up, and think oh well maybe it wasn't a puncture, maybe (hopefully) it was only flat after all. So I get it nice and tight this time. Great. So I turn the bike back up the right way, repack my panniers, take a little sip of what's left of my water and turn around – and the sodding thing is flat as a pancake again. So, determined that I am going to do this, I start all over again. But I still can't work out how to detach those brakes and I know that this is quite critical, but what the hell. Out comes the tube again, and try as I might, I cannot find a hole. There is an old repair and I wonder if it is leaking there, but I can't see or feel any air escaping there. I spat on it and couldn't see any bubbles appearing there.
By this time it is just a little after 4pm and I know I still have a hard ride in front of me – and there is thunder rattling all around. Oh what to do. I really didn't want to be a wimp and call Alan, but I am so tired, and so much for Italian chivalry – the only person who asked if I was okay was some old lady out for a walk. So in desparation I phone in. Alan said he would be with me in five minutes – as luck would have it he lives in this wee village. So he comes out and just swaps the wheel over. He asks whether I want a lift now to the Hotel San Biagio or whether I want to complete the trip. I decide to complete it. I asked him if by chance he had any water in the van, but he said he would take my bottle and fill it as I had to cycle past his place. And so a few minutes later he was waiting on the street with a bottle of lovely fresh cold water.
And so the last few kilometres which included – down a very steep hill, followed by a very steep 200m climb and then onto a strada bianca. Another steep 100m climb to a T junction and a futher 100m steep climb. And a bit further on a final right bend and up a short hill before descending to Hotel San Biagio.
OMG – I made it and by about 5.15pm. I surely doubted at several points along the way that I would. But I did. That was some tough ride today. And so hot. I was so tired, the thought of having to walk up the road to the restaurant was a bit more than I could face, but after some more water, and a shower, it was amazing how quickly the body recovers.
Alan and Linda came at 6pm as promised for a debrief. I offered to take them to dinner – two reasons – one to say thank you for rescuing me a couple of times, and secondly it would have been nice to have sat with someone for a meal. However, they declined and left me to go off an enjoy my last meal of the trip. So back to just an ordinary (but delicious) meal in the restaurant up the road. And I had gnocchi ( I really like that and will have to learn how to make it) followed by lamb cutlets and salad. And to finish off tiramisu and coffee.
I staggered home, tired out, and I think I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow. It was still very hot and I slept with the curtains and window open. Oh so much nicer than with all those shutters and things. There is of course the awning – which makes taking an early morning photo of the sunrise over Montepulciano incredibly difficult. And I am always terrified of dropping my camera – it hasn't got a handle I can attach over my wrist and I can't see an easy way to attach one either, so here I am trying to manipulate my stiff body into an angle that I can take a photo between the brick pillar and the awning at 5.20am.
And so now I am preparing for my final day in Montepulciano. I have arranged to stay an extra night here at the hotel and Alan will check out the train timetable for Milano for tomorrow and pick me up and deliver me to Chuisi station in time to catch it. But he thinks the train leaves about 10.16 and gets into Milan at about 3pm so he will pick me up at 9.15am.
So, I have this one wonderful last day to enjoy Tuscany. I must admit the thought of climbing this one last hill is a bit daunting, I am feeling extremely tired. But I have to have a good look around Montepulciano. I have dreamed for so long of coming here, it would be a shame just to have a picture of it from the hotel window, or from the restaurant up the road.
So will report in after I have been up there. Oh dear it looks high and steep.