Posts
Monday – Rest Day at Hotel Palazzuoio - San Quirico
My official rest day in San Quirico, and as suggested I got up early, had breakfast and headed to the village to catch the bus to Sienna. Well I hope the rest of the day is easier than the start – I couldn't orientate the map, and I almost tried standing on my head so that I had the traffic moving in the right direction. It didn't help that the sign outside the village entrance had a sign to Sienna pointing down the hill on that road, and everyone tells me that the bus goes up the hill to Sienna. I hope they are right. And trying to find my way to the tobacchi to buy a bus ticket – well that was a mission as well. I headed off to my right – because that was the way I had read the map, but I should have in fact gone into the village. Luckily I started out very early to catch the 9.11 bus, because it took two trips into the village before I found the tobacchi. I took the chance and bought two tickets, at E 3.30 each, even though I had been warned that it is often a different bus company that brings you back. It is 42km to Sienna from here, so I think bus travel is very cheap here compared to other items. An ice cream costs E2 yet you can travel 42 kms for not much more.
Anyway, the bus arrives and it is very clearly labelled Sienna so I hop on and away we go. Up hills, down hills, past fields of sunflowers, And again I get off two stops too late. I am at the railway station which is at the bottom of the hill and the city centre is, of course, at the top, so off I go walking up and up and up yet again. But I am getting better at this and today it is much cooler so I am not puffing and panting like an old train when I get up there. And again, the walk was worth it. Sienna is very old and again I take dozens of photos, and spend my time meandering up and down little streets, enjoying the sights and smells of the city, the shops, the people. It is perhaps not as touristy as Florence and I succumb to shopping fever here and buy a handbag and a scarf. The first shop I went into looking for a scarf had some lovely ones, but they were all made in India and being sold by an Indian man who was most put out when I decided not to buy from him. He told me Indian stuff as good as Italian, and I told him I can buy Indian at home, in Italy I want Italian. He huffed at me and I walked out of his shop. I later found a shop claiming their goods were all Italian made, so I bought there from a lovely young Italian girl who was most charming and helpful, helping me chose the right colours.
Handbags, shoes, oh for a bigger suitcase, but luckily the handbag is very soft leather and folds down to next to nothing, and so I have repacked my suitcase yet again to fit all these bits and pieces in. I am only buying light weight stuff, but still the bag gets fuller and heavier.
I have seen the most brightly coloured hand painted Tuscan ceramics, and I would love to bring some home, but it is all so heavy. Maybe on my last day in Montepulciano I will see if I can get some posted home. It is so colourful and bright, and will certainly brighten up my place when I arrive home to the cold winter I hear you are having back there.
I wish I had a pedometer to measure how far I have been walking each day, but it sure was a long way today, and also today it was round and round in circlesas well as up and down hills, so I got myself completely disoriented yet again – not hard to do – and as I knew it was a hell of a long walk down the hill to the train station I decided to catch a cab – E5 well spent – it was a good 7 or 8 minutes in the taxi, so I would have been on a much later bus back to San Quirico.
About half way home it started to rain quite heavily, but then stopped just outside ofr San Quirico, for which I was very thankful, but just as I was walking up the road to the hotel (about 1.5km from the bus stop) the thunder and lightening started and the sky became very black all around. I got back to the hotel and about half an hour later while I was sitting out on the balcony enjoying a cup of coffee, the heavens opened up yet again and now two hours later it is still raining heavily. Does not bode well for my cycling tomorrow does it. All the English people on the HF tour are moaning about the miserable Tuscan summer. One nice lady named Sandra who went off on the short walking trip this morning sat and had her cup of tea with me and invited me to join their table at dinner tonight. She checked with her tour leader and he said it was fine, she felt a bit sorry for me sitting there all alone. I said I'm used to it, but it would be nice to share stories with the HF group and comparre notes.
When I went up to the bar before dinner to have a drink, I got chatting to another lady who was part of another group, which turned out to be a guided Headwater Group, who also invited me to join them for dinner, but I felt I should go with the first group. All of a sudden I was surrounded by people, the first time all trip and so it ended up a most pleasant evening. Sandra and her husband Allan were absolutely delightful, he was rather a character and they had done lots of adventurous things like trekking in the Himalayas, and Austria etc and rock climbing and mountain climbing all around the UK, and the other lady Rose was from Peebles (I think she said) near Edinburgh and she was here on the painting trip. She also shared stories of other holidays abroad, and it was a fun evening.
The meal tonight was again just so-so. The Brits all said how wonderful it was, but I didn't think it was a patch on the meals I had had in the Veneto. The antipasto was very tasty – very thin aubergine rolled around a tasty stuffing and fried, then a rather tasty tomato soup. Then came a pasta dish which was just like I would have cooked at home (and again only very luke warm) and the main course was sliced beef with a gravy and oven roast chunky potatoes, again nothing spectacular. And to finish ice cream with a chocolate sauce. I had a jug of vino rosso, and because I was sitting at the big table tonight, I had the Americano coffee which the waiter brought out in big jugs, and got to have a glass of grappa. Phew that was potent, and I must say not really all that pleasant. I remember drinking grappa at El Burcio in Turangi and I distinctly remember it being very very potent, but actually rather nice as well. Maybe Artillio used to sweeten his with something.
But the company tonight was wonderful and I got to use a lot of my 27,000 words so am feeling great and just hopeful now that the weather will stay settled in the morning (its stopped raining now) and I can get off on the bike. Its been six or seven days since I have ridden and tomorrow I head for Montefollonico – the hotel with the expensive menu. I have either 39 or 42 km to bike depending on which option I take, so I will stop now and pack my panniers and get ready for an earlyish start. And to round off a great day, I have just spoken to Rowan, who tells me that it is absolutely freezing in Waihi, and that he has no water in the house because his pipes are all frozen and his boots, which he left at the back door are frozen. Wow, I am glad I am enjoying a Tuscan summer (yeah right – I actually had to put my new black jacket on the other night when I went out for dinner and I really didn't expect to wear that in Italy).
Ciao
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Rest Day at San Quirico d'Orcia
Monday – Rest Day at Hotel Palazzuoio - San Quirico
My official rest day in San Quirico, and as suggested I got up early, had breakfast and headed to the village to catch the bus to Sienna. Well I hope the rest of the day is easier than the start – I couldn't orientate the map, and I almost tried standing on my head so that I had the traffic moving in the right direction. It didn't help that the sign outside the village entrance had a sign to Sienna pointing down the hill on that road, and everyone tells me that the bus goes up the hill to Sienna. I hope they are right. And trying to find my way to the tobacchi to buy a bus ticket – well that was a mission as well. I headed off to my right – because that was the way I had read the map, but I should have in fact gone into the village. Luckily I started out very early to catch the 9.11 bus, because it took two trips into the village before I found the tobacchi. I took the chance and bought two tickets, at E 3.30 each, even though I had been warned that it is often a different bus company that brings you back. It is 42km to Sienna from here, so I think bus travel is very cheap here compared to other items. An ice cream costs E2 yet you can travel 42 kms for not much more.
Anyway, the bus arrives and it is very clearly labelled Sienna so I hop on and away we go. Up hills, down hills, past fields of sunflowers, And again I get off two stops too late. I am at
the railway station which is at the bottom of the hill and the city centre is, of course, at the top, so off I go walking up and up and up yet again. But I am getting better at this and today it is much cooler so I am not puffing and panting like an old train when I get up there. And again, the walk was worth it. Sienna is very old and again I take dozens of photos, and spend my time meandering up and down little streets, enjoying the sights and smells of the city, the 
shops, the people. It is perhaps not as touristy as Florence and I succumb to shopping fever here and buy a handbag and a scarf. The first shop I went into looking for a scarf had some lovely ones, but they were all made in India and being sold by an Indian man who was most put out when I decided not to buy from him. He told me Indian stuff as good as Italian, and I told him I can buy Indian at home, in Italy I want Italian. He huffed at me and I walked out of his shop. I later found a shop claiming their goods were all Italian made, so I bought there from a lovely young Italian girl who was most charming and helpful, helping me chose the right colours.
Handbags, shoes, oh for a bigger suitcase, but luckily the handbag is very soft leather and folds down to next to nothing, and so I have repacked my suitcase yet again to fit all these bits and pieces in. I am only buying light weight stuff, but still the bag gets fuller and heavier.
I have seen the most brightly coloured hand painted Tuscan ceramics, and I would love to bring some home, but it is all so heavy. Maybe on my last day in Montepulciano I will see if I can get some posted home. It is so colourful and bright, and will certainly brighten up my place when I arrive home to the cold winter I hear you are having back there.
I wish I had a pedometer to measure how far I have been walking each day, but it sure was a long way today, and also today it was round and round in circles as well as up and down hills, so I got myself completely disoriented yet again – not hard to do – and as I knew it was a hell of a long walk down the hill to the train station I decided to catch a cab – E5 well spent – it was a good 7 or 8 minutes in the taxi, so I would have been on a much later bus back to San Quirico.
About half way home it started to rain quite heavily, but then stopped just outside of San Quirico, for which I was very thankful, but just as I was walking up the road to the hotel (about 1.5km from the bus stop) the thunder and lightening started and the sky became very black all around. I got back to the hotel and about half an hour later while I was sitting out on the balcony enjoying a cup of coffee, the heavens opened up yet again and now two hours later it is still raining heavily. Does not bode well for my cycling tomorrow does it. All the English people on the HF tour are moaning about the miserable Tuscan summer. One nice lady named Sandra who went off on the short walking trip this morning sat and had her cup of tea with me and invited me to join their table at dinner tonight. She checked with her tour leader and he said it was fine, she felt a bit sorry for me sitting there all alone. I said I'm used to it, but it would be nice to share stories with the HF group and compare notes.
When I went up to the bar before dinner to have a drink, I got chatting to another lady who was part of another group, which turned out to be a guided Headwater Group, who also invited me to join them for dinner, but I felt I should go with the first group. All of a sudden I was surrounded by people, the first time all trip and so it ended up a most pleasant evening. Sandra and her husband Allan were absolutely delightful, he was rather a character and they had done lots of adventurous things like trekking in the Himalayas, and Austria etc and rock climbing and mountain climbing all around the UK, and the other lady Rose was from Peebles (I think she said) near Edinburgh and she was here on the painting trip. She also shared stories of other holidays abroad, and it was a fun evening.
The meal tonight was again just so-so. The Brits all said how wonderful it was, but I didn't think it was a patch on the meals I had had in the Veneto. The antipasto was very tasty – very thin aubergine rolled around a tasty stuffing and fried, then a rather tasty tomato soup. Then came a pasta dish which was just like I would have cooked at home (and again only very luke warm) and the main course was sliced beef with a gravy and oven roast chunky potatoes, again nothing spectacular. And to finish ice cream with a chocolate sauce. I had a jug of vino rosso, and because I was sitting at the big table tonight, I had the Americano coffee which the waiter brought out in big jugs, and got to have a glass of grappa. Phew that was potent, and I must say not really all that pleasant. I remember drinking grappa at El Burcio in Turangi and I distinctly remember it being very very potent, but actually rather nice as well. Maybe Artillio used to sweeten his with something.
But the company tonight was wonderful and I got to use a lot of my 27,000 words so am feeling great and just hopeful now that the weather will stay settled in the morning (its stopped raining now) and I can get off on the bike. Its been six or seven days since I have ridden and tomorrow I head for Montefollonico – the hotel with the expensive menu. I have either 39 or 42 km to bike depending on which option I take, so I will stop now and pack my panniers and get ready for an earlyish start. And to round off a great day, I have just spoken to Rowan, who tells me that it is absolutely freezing in Waihi, and that he has no water in the house because his pipes are all frozen and his boots, which he left at the back door are frozen. Wow, I am glad I am enjoying a Tuscan summer (yeah right – I actually had to put my new black jacket on the other night when I went out for dinner and I really didn't expect to wear that in Italy).
Ciao
My official rest day in San Quirico, and as suggested I got up early, had breakfast and headed to the village to catch the bus to Sienna. Well I hope the rest of the day is easier than the start – I couldn't orientate the map, and I almost tried standing on my head so that I had the traffic moving in the right direction. It didn't help that the sign outside the village entrance had a sign to Sienna pointing down the hill on that road, and everyone tells me that the bus goes up the hill to Sienna. I hope they are right. And trying to find my way to the tobacchi to buy a bus ticket – well that was a mission as well. I headed off to my right – because that was the way I had read the map, but I should have in fact gone into the village. Luckily I started out very early to catch the 9.11 bus, because it took two trips into the village before I found the tobacchi. I took the chance and bought two tickets, at E 3.30 each, even though I had been warned that it is often a different bus company that brings you back. It is 42km to Sienna from here, so I think bus travel is very cheap here compared to other items. An ice cream costs E2 yet you can travel 42 kms for not much more.
Anyway, the bus arrives and it is very clearly labelled Sienna so I hop on and away we go. Up hills, down hills, past fields of sunflowers, And again I get off two stops too late. I am at
I have seen the most brightly coloured hand painted Tuscan ceramics, and I would love to bring some home, but it is all so heavy. Maybe on my last day in Montepulciano I will see if I can get some posted home. It is so colourful and bright, and will certainly brighten up my place when I arrive home to the cold winter I hear you are having back there.
I wish I had a pedometer to measure how far I have been walking each day, but it sure was a long way today, and also today it was round and round in circles as well as up and down hills, so I got myself completely disoriented yet again – not hard to do – and as I knew it was a hell of a long walk down the hill to the train station I decided to catch a cab – E5 well spent – it was a good 7 or 8 minutes in the taxi, so I would have been on a much later bus back to San Quirico.
About half way home it started to rain quite heavily, but then stopped just outside of San Quirico, for which I was very thankful, but just as I was walking up the road to the hotel (about 1.5km from the bus stop) the thunder and lightening started and the sky became very black all around. I got back to the hotel and about half an hour later while I was sitting out on the balcony enjoying a cup of coffee, the heavens opened up yet again and now two hours later it is still raining heavily. Does not bode well for my cycling tomorrow does it. All the English people on the HF tour are moaning about the miserable Tuscan summer. One nice lady named Sandra who went off on the short walking trip this morning sat and had her cup of tea with me and invited me to join their table at dinner tonight. She checked with her tour leader and he said it was fine, she felt a bit sorry for me sitting there all alone. I said I'm used to it, but it would be nice to share stories with the HF group and compare notes.
The meal tonight was again just so-so. The Brits all said how wonderful it was, but I didn't think it was a patch on the meals I had had in the Veneto. The antipasto was very tasty – very thin aubergine rolled around a tasty stuffing and fried, then a rather tasty tomato soup. Then came a pasta dish which was just like I would have cooked at home (and again only very luke warm) and the main course was sliced beef with a gravy and oven roast chunky potatoes, again nothing spectacular. And to finish ice cream with a chocolate sauce. I had a jug of vino rosso, and because I was sitting at the big table tonight, I had the Americano coffee which the waiter brought out in big jugs, and got to have a glass of grappa. Phew that was potent, and I must say not really all that pleasant. I remember drinking grappa at El Burcio in Turangi and I distinctly remember it being very very potent, but actually rather nice as well. Maybe Artillio used to sweeten his with something.
But the company tonight was wonderful and I got to use a lot of my 27,000 words so am feeling great and just hopeful now that the weather will stay settled in the morning (its stopped raining now) and I can get off on the bike. Its been six or seven days since I have ridden and tomorrow I head for Montefollonico – the hotel with the expensive menu. I have either 39 or 42 km to bike depending on which option I take, so I will stop now and pack my panniers and get ready for an earlyish start. And to round off a great day, I have just spoken to Rowan, who tells me that it is absolutely freezing in Waihi, and that he has no water in the house because his pipes are all frozen and his boots, which he left at the back door are frozen. Wow, I am glad I am enjoying a Tuscan summer (yeah right – I actually had to put my new black jacket on the other night when I went out for dinner and I really didn't expect to wear that in Italy).
Ciao
Day 2 Tuscany Trip
Well what a mixed bag today turned out to be. By the time I finished my breakfast and stuffed the last few things into my bags, Alan and Linda were pulling up outside and it was absolutely bucketing down. I was feeling rather disappointed by this time, as I really wasn't prepared for such wet weather. I thought I might encounter the odd light shower and brought a light jacket, but nothing to withstand this kind of weather. Anyway in they come, and Alan asks if I would accept some advice. I said, most certainly – and he suggested that I ride in the van with them while they do the luggage transfers and they would drop me off at San Quirico d'Orica mid to late morning. He thought that the cycle ride would be too dangerous for me with my hand the way it was and apart from that it would be downright unpleasant. He suggested that I rest today, and perhaps if the weather lifted walk into San Quirico and then tomorrow catch the bus into Siena and have a look around there, and that would give my hand another two full days of no cycling and by then it should have settled well. I must say that it is feeling a good bit better today and the swelling was subsiding and I now have two knuckles visible, although it is still very tender to the touch and moving my thumb is still extremely painful. The Diclofenac and Panadol obviously doing the trick.
Anyway I agreed with his suggestion and although disappointed, I felt that it was a very sensible option, and then, when driving the route, I was actually dammed pleased that I had taken that option. The ride looked quite horrendous actually, and on reading the comments by other Headwater clients in the book at San Quirico, a good number of them suggsted that this ride should in fact be re-categorised to a 3-bike tour, rather than the 2-bike that it is listed at.
We made it to Hotel Palazzuolo by late morning, and surprisingly my room was all ready for me, obviously another hotel not going to be fully booked out. Alan helped me with my bag to my room, and then I was on my own again, with his phone number carefully logged in my phone in case I am needing him for anything. Here's hoping not, because I really want to do this cycle ride.
The weather remained awful until just after lunch time, and I had my picnic of banana, peach and yoghurt with a little plum cake in my room and then decided to venture upstairs, firstly to scan the Headwater books for ideas, and then I braved the weather and walked up to San Quirico. What a beautiful old place it is. All stone, and little lanes and cobbled streets, buildings with tiny little doorways, heavy carved wooden doors or wrought iron gates. I went into all three churches in this wee village, one of them dating back to the 8th century. Wow, that is old. It was beautiful inside and I lit a candle
in there, and sat for quite some time, just contemplating life, and trying to find some answers. These were just little tea light candles which you lit and placed on a wrought iron tree-shaped stand. Maybe to get all the anwers I need I perhaps should have lit one of the big candles at the cathedral in Firenze!!! But I did enjoy sitting in there, it was warm and peaceful and inviting. Wooden carved ceiling, painted frescos on the walls and magnificent statues all around, and again the sign on the door reminding us that it was a place of worship and asking us to respect that and not take photos. Such a shame, because these churches are just absolutely magnificent and it is hard to do them justice with a description in words alone. Beautiful, awesome, magnificent, peaceful, calming, don't just seem strong enough adjectives to use to describe them. Breathtakingly beautiful perhaps. Serene. Awe inspiring.
Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed my wander round this lovely old village. It is Sunday so most of the shops are closed, and only the ristorante are open. There are only a handful of tourists about, and the locals are heading into the restaurants for their late Sunday lunch and I liked the words on that sign that I have posted here. It was on the door outside an hotel / ristorante.
The rain, which has thankfully stopped now, has freshened everything up and the grass is green and the potplants are looking very clean and bright and fresh. Some of the windows are sporting the traditional window boxes of brightly coloured geranium plants, but in most of the doorways there are terracotta pots of green plants, well small trees actually. There are flags flying throughout the village, and I was excited to learn this morning when Alan and Linda came to pick me up that there was a very historical pagaent taking place today, and Alan explained that there were four groups of people here who would challenge each other at various tasks, the red, the green, the blue and the black teams.
But how disappointing to learn when we checked me in at the hotel that the festival is in fact 
next weekend and not today. Just my luck, thunder storms, pouring rain and one of the biggests festivals of the year, and I am a week too early for it. Aint that just the story of my life. Too early, too late, never in the right place at the right time!!!!
I got some awesome photos of the village, and the surrounding area and then headed back to the
hotel, taking photos of typical Tuscan gardens along the way. Looking out across the valley, the fields are a mixture of colours – brown, golden and various shades of green. The maize is a gorgeous shade of gold, ready for harvesting I guess as soon as the weather settles.
Time then for my traditional nana nap, and then I used the time before dinner to transfer my photos on the lap top from my camera, and label them, before all the places become a jumble in my brain and I forget which is where. What a job, already some of the names are getting muddled, so I am glad I did the job today rather than waiting until I get home and I will try to do them each day from here on in. It will be so much easier.
Next it was time for my shower and to start thinking about going upstairs for dinner. There is a large group who have now checked in the hotel, travelling with HF. I actually talked to one of the tour leaders after dinner and he asked me if I had heard of HF and I told him I had only really learnt about them on arriving in Tuscany on seeing there brochures at the hotel. In actual fact, looking more closely at their catalogue now, it would seem that Bevan sent me a copy of their booklet, but I actually liked the look of Headwater much better, and HF are all guided tours. The people on the tour look like a mixture of ages and abilities, although mostly much older than me, and the leader told me that they have two walking groups – the hard lot and the softer lot, as well as a group of people who only came to paint the scenery.
Once again I walk into the dining room to find a table for one set in the corner for me. I would have liked to have sat out on the terrace but the receptionist told me it gets very cold out there when the sun goes down. But I was wanting to capture the “fantastic sunset” on camera and here I was sitting in a corner with my back to the view. Oh well, here's to the food. Now this hotel is a four star hotel, so I am expecting great things here. Alan told me that everything is so much better than in the Veneto, so here goes. There are no options on the menu which is printed and sitting on my table, and the waiter just brings each dish out in rather quick succession and plonks in front of me, no questions, no comments, just puts it down and walks away. The only question I got asked was whether I wanted water, and I replied yes and ordered a ¼ litre of vino rosso as well. He looked rather surprised and repeated ¼ litre and I said si. Don't women drink here or what? Anyway he brings my wine out in a little glass jug, and it is good. The wine list was extensive, but as is often the case at home, the house wine was un-named.
The first course was beef cappacio and rocket, which was okay. Presentaton wasn't a big issue here, just put on a plate and that's it, but it tasted okay. Nothing to rave about, but okay. Then I was brought a bowl of creamed vegetable soup, again, tasty but just a bowl of soup. The next course was gnocchi something or other 'ragu Toscana' which means meat sauce Tuscany style. This was nice, I have decided I really like gnocchi and will have to learn to make it. I am starting to get full by this time, and I notice that the elderly Italian gentleman at the table across from me has left some of his gnocchi, and so at the risk of offending the chef, I too leave some, as I know by the look of the menu that I still have two more courses to go. So the main course, pork slices flavoured with curry and served with oven roasted vegetables. Again, okay, quite tasty, and again just plonked on a plate and this time swimming in an oily but quite tasty sauce. One comment I have to make is that none of the food has been hot, and I am not sure if that is because they are catering for the large table of HF tourists and the food has gone cold, or whether they intend for it to be only luke warm, but for me I would have liked it hotter to start with. Because there are so many courses, I take my time eating and by the time I get to the end of each course the food is in fact quite cold. This hasn't been the case at any of the other places I have eaten, and in Perugia the gnocchi was bubbling hot when they brought it to the table.
And so the final course here at San Quirico - Panna Cotta. Again just okay, and it would seem to me that this is a commercially prepared dessert, as it was a slice, rather than the traditional moulded panna cotta and it rather reminded me of those catering cheese cakes that you can buy at home - you know the ones, in the big tinfoil dishes which all taste exactly the same, except for the colour of the topping. And then I finished off with an espresso.
Now one thing I was really pleased about, one of the previous Headwater guests had made a comment that the menu had consisted of seafood, seafood, and more seafood and if you didn't like it, too bad, because the menu did not offer any options. I was a bit nervous entering the restaurant in case this happened tonight, but I know that all of the establishments have been warned about my 'allergico frutta di mare crustacean' We are not supposed to write criticism of the establishments in the comments book, but this couple (from NZ I might add) must have felt very strongly about the food and commented anyway.
And so endeth another day. As I said when I started typing today, a bit of a mixed bag, and what looked so horrible to start ended up not so bad at all. Tomorrow I am hoping to catch the bus to Sienna – Not quite as easy as it sounds as you cannot buy a bus ticket on the bus and you cannot buy a ticket anywhere near the bus stop, you have to walk to the other side of the town to the tobacconist. And then it pays not to buy a return ticket, because sometimes it is a different bus company that brings you back home. On the map it looks as if it is 42 kms to Sienna and I overheard some other tourists trying to organise a taxi there and it costs E100 each way. So that is out of the question. I had thought of catching the bus there and getting a taxi home, but that is a tad expensive. But then, as I came out from dinner the receptionist informed me that the weather forecast is for heavy rain and thunder again tomorrow, so maybe I will be staying put in the hotel for another day. A bit of a waste, and while I don't mind playing a lady of leisure for a few hours, the whole day might be a bit much. There are some strenuous bike rides out from here, and a 12.5 km walk to Montalcino, but that makes a 12.5 walk back and I am not sure my knee will withstand that, and then if it rains, that won't be pleasant. I could always go back to Montepulciano, because I haven't seen that town yet, as it was perched up on top of a hill and I didn't walk up there in the middle of a thunder storm the other day.
So lots of choices, but I guess it will all come down to what the weather is doing. And reading the comments book, it seems that all the tourists this 2009 season have had rain. I certainly wasn't expecting that. Oh well, now for some sleep and see what the morning brings.
Ciao
Anyway I agreed with his suggestion and although disappointed, I felt that it was a very sensible option, and then, when driving the route, I was actually dammed pleased that I had taken that option. The ride looked quite horrendous actually, and on reading the comments by other Headwater clients in the book at San Quirico, a good number of them suggsted that this ride should in fact be re-categorised to a 3-bike tour, rather than the 2-bike that it is listed at.
We made it to Hotel Palazzuolo by late morning, and surprisingly my room was all ready for me, obviously another hotel not going to be fully booked out. Alan helped me with my bag to my room, and then I was on my own again, with his phone number carefully logged in my phone in case I am needing him for anything. Here's hoping not, because I really want to do this cycle ride.
The weather remained awful until just after lunch time, and I had my picnic of banana, peach and yoghurt with a little plum cake in my room and then decided to venture upstairs, firstly to scan the Headwater books for ideas, and then I braved the weather and walked up to San Quirico. What a beautiful old place it is. All stone, and little lanes and cobbled streets, buildings with tiny little doorways, heavy carved wooden doors or wrought iron gates. I went into all three churches in this wee village, one of them dating back to the 8th century. Wow, that is old. It was beautiful inside and I lit a candle
Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed my wander round this lovely old village. It is Sunday so most of the shops are closed, and only the ristorante are open. There are only a handful of tourists about, and the locals are heading into the restaurants for their late Sunday lunch and I liked the words on that sign that I have posted here. It was on the door outside an hotel / ristorante.
I got some awesome photos of the village, and the surrounding area and then headed back to the
Time then for my traditional nana nap, and then I used the time before dinner to transfer my photos on the lap top from my camera, and label them, before all the places become a jumble in my brain and I forget which is where. What a job, already some of the names are getting muddled, so I am glad I did the job today rather than waiting until I get home and I will try to do them each day from here on in. It will be so much easier.
Next it was time for my shower and to start thinking about going upstairs for dinner. There is a large group who have now checked in the hotel, travelling with HF. I actually talked to one of the tour leaders after dinner and he asked me if I had heard of HF and I told him I had only really learnt about them on arriving in Tuscany on seeing there brochures at the hotel. In actual fact, looking more closely at their catalogue now, it would seem that Bevan sent me a copy of their booklet, but I actually liked the look of Headwater much better, and HF are all guided tours. The people on the tour look like a mixture of ages and abilities, although mostly much older than me, and the leader told me that they have two walking groups – the hard lot and the softer lot, as well as a group of people who only came to paint the scenery.
Once again I walk into the dining room to find a table for one set in the corner for me. I would have liked to have sat out on the terrace but the receptionist told me it gets very cold out there when the sun goes down. But I was wanting to capture the “fantastic sunset” on camera and here I was sitting in a corner with my back to the view. Oh well, here's to the food. Now this hotel is a four star hotel, so I am expecting great things here. Alan told me that everything is so much better than in the Veneto, so here goes. There are no options on the menu which is printed and sitting on my table, and the waiter just brings each dish out in rather quick succession and plonks in front of me, no questions, no comments, just puts it down and walks away. The only question I got asked was whether I wanted water, and I replied yes and ordered a ¼ litre of vino rosso as well. He looked rather surprised and repeated ¼ litre and I said si. Don't women drink here or what? Anyway he brings my wine out in a little glass jug, and it is good. The wine list was extensive, but as is often the case at home, the house wine was un-named.
The first course was beef cappacio and rocket, which was okay. Presentaton wasn't a big issue here, just put on a plate and that's it, but it tasted okay. Nothing to rave about, but okay. Then I was brought a bowl of creamed vegetable soup, again, tasty but just a bowl of soup. The next course was gnocchi something or other 'ragu Toscana' which means meat sauce Tuscany style. This was nice, I have decided I really like gnocchi and will have to learn to make it. I am starting to get full by this time, and I notice that the elderly Italian gentleman at the table across from me has left some of his gnocchi, and so at the risk of offending the chef, I too leave some, as I know by the look of the menu that I still have two more courses to go. So the main course, pork slices flavoured with curry and served with oven roasted vegetables. Again, okay, quite tasty, and again just plonked on a plate and this time swimming in an oily but quite tasty sauce. One comment I have to make is that none of the food has been hot, and I am not sure if that is because they are catering for the large table of HF tourists and the food has gone cold, or whether they intend for it to be only luke warm, but for me I would have liked it hotter to start with. Because there are so many courses, I take my time eating and by the time I get to the end of each course the food is in fact quite cold. This hasn't been the case at any of the other places I have eaten, and in Perugia the gnocchi was bubbling hot when they brought it to the table.
And so the final course here at San Quirico - Panna Cotta. Again just okay, and it would seem to me that this is a commercially prepared dessert, as it was a slice, rather than the traditional moulded panna cotta and it rather reminded me of those catering cheese cakes that you can buy at home - you know the ones, in the big tinfoil dishes which all taste exactly the same, except for the colour of the topping. And then I finished off with an espresso.
Now one thing I was really pleased about, one of the previous Headwater guests had made a comment that the menu had consisted of seafood, seafood, and more seafood and if you didn't like it, too bad, because the menu did not offer any options. I was a bit nervous entering the restaurant in case this happened tonight, but I know that all of the establishments have been warned about my 'allergico frutta di mare crustacean' We are not supposed to write criticism of the establishments in the comments book, but this couple (from NZ I might add) must have felt very strongly about the food and commented anyway.
And so endeth another day. As I said when I started typing today, a bit of a mixed bag, and what looked so horrible to start ended up not so bad at all. Tomorrow I am hoping to catch the bus to Sienna – Not quite as easy as it sounds as you cannot buy a bus ticket on the bus and you cannot buy a ticket anywhere near the bus stop, you have to walk to the other side of the town to the tobacconist. And then it pays not to buy a return ticket, because sometimes it is a different bus company that brings you back home. On the map it looks as if it is 42 kms to Sienna and I overheard some other tourists trying to organise a taxi there and it costs E100 each way. So that is out of the question. I had thought of catching the bus there and getting a taxi home, but that is a tad expensive. But then, as I came out from dinner the receptionist informed me that the weather forecast is for heavy rain and thunder again tomorrow, so maybe I will be staying put in the hotel for another day. A bit of a waste, and while I don't mind playing a lady of leisure for a few hours, the whole day might be a bit much. There are some strenuous bike rides out from here, and a 12.5 km walk to Montalcino, but that makes a 12.5 walk back and I am not sure my knee will withstand that, and then if it rains, that won't be pleasant. I could always go back to Montepulciano, because I haven't seen that town yet, as it was perched up on top of a hill and I didn't walk up there in the middle of a thunder storm the other day.
So lots of choices, but I guess it will all come down to what the weather is doing. And reading the comments book, it seems that all the tourists this 2009 season have had rain. I certainly wasn't expecting that. Oh well, now for some sleep and see what the morning brings.
Ciao
Montepulciano - A dream come true
Montepulciano. Just think of the number bottles of wine from this region that we have drunk over the last few years – Piccolo Italia (and later Volare) started my enjoyment of this fine red wine, and who would have known that I would actually be here at Montepulciano, the very place the wine comes from. And what an introduction to the this part of my holiday. I rang the Headwater rep early this morning to advise of my very swollen and painful wrist and to ask if there was a simpler way to get to Chiusi rather than by train with a change at Terontola. The thought of struggling up and down all those stairs at the railway station really did not thrill me. He said he would pick me up at Terontola, so that was helpful. So I checked out of Chocohotel, and sorry guys, I didn't buy loads of chocolate. I planned to, however, the girl on the front desk advised that it was not possible to post from the shop and the thought of carrying an even heavier suitcase even just for today was more than I could bear. And also it is still incredibly hot, so I didn't want it to melt in my suitcase. So, sorry no chocolate from Perugia. Maybe wine from Montepulciano on my last day.
Breakfast was a bit of a disaster, I can't use my right hand at all and trying to pour a glass of juice from the jug with me left hand was a bit of a mission and I ended up spilling bright red orange juice (don't know why orange juice is red here) all over the nice white table cloth. Woops. But the waitress was very nice and then she bought me a bag of ice wrapped in a serviete to put on my wrist, she could see that it was very swollen.
Anyway, I managed the train okay, and I was pleased to see the Headwater Rep at Terontola when I arrived. And it was raining. Oh buggar. I hadn't counted on rain while I was here. And on the drive to Montepulciano we drove through an amazing thunder and lightening storm, and one thunder/lightening cracked right in front of us. It was so loud, (a combination of the roar of the thunder and the flash of the lightening – a very strange and quite frightening noise actually ) and the lightening was so so bright. And the rain is so heavy, great puddles forming on the road as we drive along. Not a very nice welcome to the area, I surely hope that it doesn't last too long. Alan and Linda (the Headwater Reps) will come back at 6pm to do the briefing, and in the meantime I will sort my stuff for my panniers, take a walk along the road to the supermarket and buy some food for my pinic tomorrow and perhaps just rest with my arm elevated and hope like hell that some of this swelling goes down a bit. And then tonight I have to go up the road to have dinner at t restaurant as this hotel is bed and breakfast only.
It is now Sunday morning.
I was woken at 5.38am with the loudest and longest thunder I have ever heard. It just rumbled on and on and I thought it was never going to stop. I jumped out of bed and went out on to my wee terrace to have a look at the early morning. The sky is black, it is windy and it is freezing cold. Alan said yesterday that the termperature had dropped 10 degrees, but it feels way more than that. Now I hope I am going to be warm enough cycling along. I had hummed and haad about bringing my big black jacket and decided against it because it is summer, and this is what it turns out like. I just have my light jacket (ex Vaughan's Takeout in Turangi when John and I sponsored the local Young Bloodz Touch Rugby Team) It's only light but hopefully it might keep some of the moisture out.
Not a good omen, I have wanted to come to Montepulciano for so so long, and here is turning on the hugest thunder storm. It is now almost 7am and the thunder is still happening. It is not raining here yet, but the the wind is blowing and the thunder is about every 30 seconds. It is so loud and long. But the birds are chirping in the trees - is that a good sign – I sure hope so.
My hand is still incredibily swollen but I am hopeful of being able to get on the bike today. Alan and Linda came at 6 last night as arranged and went over the maps with me. This trip is way hillier than the Veneto, but promises to be way more picturesque. I sat on the bike and tried to operate the hand brake (which I am going to need as I cycle downhill on the strada bianca. I could just manage to use the brake, but changing gear was going to be the biggest problem as I still couldn't move the thumb. I.'ve been applying Diclofenac jel (I couldn't get Arnica or the Tramneel that Roxy suggested) as well as the massage cream I use on my feet and ankles and knees after a nights dancing, popping the Panadol regularly with the hope that the swelling would subside and the pain disappear, but no such luck. What the hell have I done to it.? I remember banging it as the train stopped at Perugia the other day, but I wouldn't have thought that that knock was enough to cause this much damage. But then lugging that heavy suitcase up the stairs on top of the knock might just have been enough.
But more important is the big question of this bloody weather – cycling Tuscany in a bloody thunder and lightening storm is not quite what I had pictured. Oh well, I guess my photos of the area will be quite different to those you see in the glossy magazines. - talking about photos, I think I have now sussed out how to add photos to my blog page, but I don't have access to the internet now until day 6 (today is Day 2).
Woops forgot to say, yesterday afternoon I went for a swim in the indoor pool. Well a very short swim actually. The pool is beautiful, indoors, under the hotel, and if it had been a stinking hot day it would have been just perfect, but because it was raining and windy and cold it wasn't quite so appealing and I got cold quite quickly, so came upstairs and had a hot shower. But at least I have used my togs, I thought I was going to carry them all the way home unused. Apparently on this trip there is only one hotel that doesn't have a pool, and these hotels are much more luxurious than those used in the Veneto (and I thought they were pretty luxurious) Alan pointed out that this was why this trip was so much more expensive – silly me – I thought it was because this trip is 11 nights where as the other one was only 8 nights. How dumb of me!!!
There is one hotel where we (and that should say I as once again I am the only person on the trip – no one else out there, no one else coming so I won't be seeing a soul while I'm out there) get provided only bed and breakfast as the restaurant is the most expensive in the whole of Tuscany. Apparently the starter (like the one I did with my chef the other day ) Bruschetta with tomato and olive oil costs E15. Must be some bread. Because basically that dish is a piece of ciabatta bread, with tomatoes on top, sprinkled with olive oil, some herbs (maybe basil or oreganum) salt and some balsamic. E15 is about $45. Holy heck. The whole dinner is E110 and wine and water are extra. Headwater guests are given the choice of eating there or going out to eat, and we are there for two nights.
Well typing this morning is very slow, and the time is rushing by. I have breakfast at 8am and the reps come back with my bike for the safety check and see me on my way at 9am. They offered to drive me to my first hotel if my hand is too too painful, but I really want to bike it, although those black clouds out there are still hovering . The wind may have dropped marginally and the thunder isn't so frequent now. So maybe it will be okay. As long as it doesn't rain like it did yesterday. It will not be pleasant.
Oh well, catch you tonight. Hope all is well in Kiwi land. I checked the news on Xtra before leaving Perugia and I see that Swine Flu is on the increase, and the main reports were just the same, people being killed, murder trials, the financial gloom and discredited sports people. Oh and also another earthquake in the Bay of Plenty, this time centred in Rotorua, although no reports of significant damage. And I had an email from my friend Pete in Auckland who said it is freezing cold with the heaviest snow in the country for ages. It will be another week before I get any news.
Watched telly for a bit in Perugia in my hotel room - I think it was McLeods Daughters but it had another name (in Italian) and it was all in Italian, but I could follow pretty much what was happening although not understand the dialogue, and then I watched a cops and robbers kind of show (again in some other European language, don't know which, but certainly not Italian, and definitely not filmed in Italy and again, couldn't understand the dialogue but could figure out what was going on. They got the bad guy in the end, so all ended 'happily ever after!!' ) And watched the adverts which gave me an idea of what to buy in the supermarket yesterday. Some premixed salad which I bought for my lunch – okay but I wouldn't buy it again. And I watched the news on CNN but it was all about the situation in Iran with the Ayotollah and the protest march etc, so all a bit boring. Isn't there anything else going on in the world worth reporting. For a whole hour that was all it was about.
Okay, must go and get my shower and finish packing and have my breakfast. Catch you all later.
Ciao.
Breakfast was a bit of a disaster, I can't use my right hand at all and trying to pour a glass of juice from the jug with me left hand was a bit of a mission and I ended up spilling bright red orange juice (don't know why orange juice is red here) all over the nice white table cloth. Woops. But the waitress was very nice and then she bought me a bag of ice wrapped in a serviete to put on my wrist, she could see that it was very swollen.
Anyway, I managed the train okay, and I was pleased to see the Headwater Rep at Terontola when I arrived. And it was raining. Oh buggar. I hadn't counted on rain while I was here. And on the drive to Montepulciano we drove through an amazing thunder and lightening storm, and one thunder/lightening cracked right in front of us. It was so loud, (a combination of the roar of the thunder and the flash of the lightening – a very strange and quite frightening noise actually ) and the lightening was so so bright. And the rain is so heavy, great puddles forming on the road as we drive along. Not a very nice welcome to the area, I surely hope that it doesn't last too long. Alan and Linda (the Headwater Reps) will come back at 6pm to do the briefing, and in the meantime I will sort my stuff for my panniers, take a walk along the road to the supermarket and buy some food for my pinic tomorrow and perhaps just rest with my arm elevated and hope like hell that some of this swelling goes down a bit. And then tonight I have to go up the road to have dinner at t restaurant as this hotel is bed and breakfast only.
It is now Sunday morning.
I was woken at 5.38am with the loudest and longest thunder I have ever heard. It just rumbled on and on and I thought it was never going to stop. I jumped out of bed and went out on to my wee terrace to have a look at the early morning. The sky is black, it is windy and it is freezing cold. Alan said yesterday that the termperature had dropped 10 degrees, but it feels way more than that. Now I hope I am going to be warm enough cycling along. I had hummed and haad about bringing my big black jacket and decided against it because it is summer, and this is what it turns out like. I just have my light jacket (ex Vaughan's Takeout in Turangi when John and I sponsored the local Young Bloodz Touch Rugby Team) It's only light but hopefully it might keep some of the moisture out.
My hand is still incredibily swollen but I am hopeful of being able to get on the bike today. Alan and Linda came at 6 last night as arranged and went over the maps with me. This trip is way hillier than the Veneto, but promises to be way more picturesque. I sat on the bike and tried to operate the hand brake (which I am going to need as I cycle downhill on the strada bianca. I could just manage to use the brake, but changing gear was going to be the biggest problem as I still couldn't move the thumb. I.'ve been applying Diclofenac jel (I couldn't get Arnica or the Tramneel that Roxy suggested) as well as the massage cream I use on my feet and ankles and knees after a nights dancing, popping the Panadol regularly with the hope that the swelling would subside and the pain disappear, but no such luck. What the hell have I done to it.? I remember banging it as the train stopped at Perugia the other day, but I wouldn't have thought that that knock was enough to cause this much damage. But then lugging that heavy suitcase up the stairs on top of the knock might just have been enough.
But more important is the big question of this bloody weather – cycling Tuscany in a bloody thunder and lightening storm is not quite what I had pictured. Oh well, I guess my photos of the area will be quite different to those you see in the glossy magazines. - talking about photos, I think I have now sussed out how to add photos to my blog page, but I don't have access to the internet now until day 6 (today is Day 2).
Woops forgot to say, yesterday afternoon I went for a swim in the indoor pool. Well a very short swim actually. The pool is beautiful, indoors, under the hotel, and if it had been a stinking hot day it would have been just perfect, but because it was raining and windy and cold it wasn't quite so appealing and I got cold quite quickly, so came upstairs and had a hot shower. But at least I have used my togs, I thought I was going to carry them all the way home unused. Apparently on this trip there is only one hotel that doesn't have a pool, and these hotels are much more luxurious than those used in the Veneto (and I thought they were pretty luxurious) Alan pointed out that this was why this trip was so much more expensive – silly me – I thought it was because this trip is 11 nights where as the other one was only 8 nights. How dumb of me!!!
There is one hotel where we (and that should say I as once again I am the only person on the trip – no one else out there, no one else coming so I won't be seeing a soul while I'm out there) get provided only bed and breakfast as the restaurant is the most expensive in the whole of Tuscany. Apparently the starter (like the one I did with my chef the other day ) Bruschetta with tomato and olive oil costs E15. Must be some bread. Because basically that dish is a piece of ciabatta bread, with tomatoes on top, sprinkled with olive oil, some herbs (maybe basil or oreganum) salt and some balsamic. E15 is about $45. Holy heck. The whole dinner is E110 and wine and water are extra. Headwater guests are given the choice of eating there or going out to eat, and we are there for two nights.
Well typing this morning is very slow, and the time is rushing by. I have breakfast at 8am and the reps come back with my bike for the safety check and see me on my way at 9am. They offered to drive me to my first hotel if my hand is too too painful, but I really want to bike it, although those black clouds out there are still hovering . The wind may have dropped marginally and the thunder isn't so frequent now. So maybe it will be okay. As long as it doesn't rain like it did yesterday. It will not be pleasant.
Oh well, catch you tonight. Hope all is well in Kiwi land. I checked the news on Xtra before leaving Perugia and I see that Swine Flu is on the increase, and the main reports were just the same, people being killed, murder trials, the financial gloom and discredited sports people. Oh and also another earthquake in the Bay of Plenty, this time centred in Rotorua, although no reports of significant damage. And I had an email from my friend Pete in Auckland who said it is freezing cold with the heaviest snow in the country for ages. It will be another week before I get any news.
Watched telly for a bit in Perugia in my hotel room - I think it was McLeods Daughters but it had another name (in Italian) and it was all in Italian, but I could follow pretty much what was happening although not understand the dialogue, and then I watched a cops and robbers kind of show (again in some other European language, don't know which, but certainly not Italian, and definitely not filmed in Italy and again, couldn't understand the dialogue but could figure out what was going on. They got the bad guy in the end, so all ended 'happily ever after!!' ) And watched the adverts which gave me an idea of what to buy in the supermarket yesterday. Some premixed salad which I bought for my lunch – okay but I wouldn't buy it again. And I watched the news on CNN but it was all about the situation in Iran with the Ayotollah and the protest march etc, so all a bit boring. Isn't there anything else going on in the world worth reporting. For a whole hour that was all it was about.
Okay, must go and get my shower and finish packing and have my breakfast. Catch you all later.
Ciao.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Perugia
Perugia in Umbria. I so wanted to come this place after reading the book “When in Rome” about a thirty year old Australian lass who came to Perugia University to study language and culture for six months, and that was my dream, to do the same. What a magnificent place to live and study. I so want to come back. The old city is just unbelievably beautiful, and I cannot even begin to imagine how these magnificent churches and cathedrals were built. They are so huge, so beautifully ornate – carvings, statues, paintings – and it is all up on top of a hill.
I caught the bus up, and tried to follow the route on the map as I went so I got off at the right place, but I couldn't work out where I was. For a start, the bus came in the opposite direction to where I thought it would come from. All the other traffic appeared to be going in one direction only, down the hill, and I was waiting on the opposite side of the road to the hotel, so I tried to orientate myself to where I was going. It didn't make a lot of sense, and then after waiting in the hot sun the bus pulled up, going the other direction. Didn't make sense to me at all, but this is Italy after all. So I then turned my map upside down and tried to work out where I was, but couldn't so decided I would just get out at the top of the hill. Aha, not as easy as I thought – one stop we were definitely still heading distinctly uphill, and the next stop we were heading down, so I got out at the next one, asked a young guy on a motor cycle to point out where I was on the map, and how to get to the citta centero, and he pointed across the road and to some steps. Oh boy, and I don't just mean a few steps, I mean lots of
steps. So off I go, luckily they are in the shade, it is only 9am and already it is stinking hot.
So I climb the first lot of steps, and around the corner a whole lot more, and then more and
then more, and then into a narrow little lane still heading up and so on I go till I reach the top. But, what a spectacular place when I got there – opening out into a huge piazza. So beautiful, so old, so quiet, so peaceful. 
There are a few vehicles about, even in the narrow wee lanes, lots of people, but it wasn't awfully crowded and it certainly wasn't noisy. I wandered in and out of buildings, shops, churches, museums, down wee lanes, back up another. I went into the cathedral. It was awesome. So huge, so ornate, so cool, so peaceful. All around are signs saying no photos, so I resist the temptation to take photos in there, although lots of other tourists ignore the signs and cameras click and flashes go off all around the place. But after-all it is a place of worship, not just a tourist spot, so I respect the signs. I will just have to try and memorise the beautiful stained glass windows, the carved and painted ceilings, the huge (and I mean huge) paintings on the wall, the huge pieces of silverware in the wrought iron cages at the back of the church, the beautiful carved alcoves where people could light candles, and the biggest statue of Christ on the Cross that I have ever seen.
I sit on the steps outside and write a couple of postcards and soak up the atmosphere of the place. The clear blue sky – not a cloud to be seen, the peace, the tranquility, the sheer awesomeness of the place and try to imagine it being built so many hundreds of years ago.
Then the smell of food starts to waft around the place and I feel the urge to eat pizza for lunch. I wander around till I find a quiet little spot up a lane, in the shade with a nice soft and gentle cool breeze blowing and take a seat. Now so far in Perugia I haven't seen anything written in English and this menu is no different, so here goes. Along comes the “hottie” Kaydi – looks young enough to be my grandson, but he's cute.
I order Pizza Marinara and a glass of white wine plus a bottle of aqua naturale. Everywhere people drink these bottles of water, either naturale or fizzy, and Sarah told me on the first day of our cycling trip that the water is safe to drink in Italy, so I have been filling my water bottle each day and drinking that. He brings me my wine, and when I say grazie the little cutie tells me he can speak a little English. Oh well good practice for me, and before long my pizza arrives. It looks huge and I wonder how I am going to eat it all, but because it is a very thin base, and the topping is only tomato, garlic and either basil or oregano, can't remember which, it isn't all that filling and I actually manage to eat it all. It is really delicious and washed down with the wine, it's a pretty good lunch.
I then order a coffee – I am getting used to these tiny little cups of espresso – they aren't strong and bitter at all, but rather smooth, sweet isn't the right word, but I can't find the right word to use at the moment.
I linger there in the cool for as long as I can, and then out again I go into the heat to explore some more of this wonderful place.
The middle of the afternoon arrives, and it is time to go back to the hotel for my nanna nap. I decide against trying to find the right bus stop, I am on the other side of the hill by this time and all the bus numbers are different over here, so rather than get lost, I treat myself to a taxi whichonly cost E6.75 and delivered me right at my hotel door. What a great idea.
And so back into the cool of the room. I walk in, and room service have re-arranged my bed – I had tidied it and pulled the bedspread up by apparently not good enough for them, because the bed has been remade, the blind is down, the curtains drawn and the room is in darkness. They have a real thing about having everything closed up here in Italy. This hotel hasn't got shutters, it has these heavy blackout blinds, which don't let a scrap of daylight in from the outside. I find this strange because at home I have my curtains open all the time and the only
time I close them is in the middle of winter to help keep the place warm. I guess here they are trying to keep the heat out, but I look around at the buildings surrounding the hotel and the shutters are drawn all day and night. It looks so unfriendly.
My nanna nap is over, and I am toying with the idea of a swim in the pool up on the rooftop. I might venture up and if there is no-one else about I might just be tempted to get in
My wrist is really painful now, and extremely swollen, not in the joint, but I think more over the scaphoid bone. Moving my thumb is virtually impossible and grasping my drink bottle in my right hand is also impossible. I wonder what I have done to it. I have taken some Panadol, but it doesn't seem to be having any effect as yet. I am not looking forward to having to carry my suitcase again tomorrow, and so was very well controlled today and didn't buy anything that I am going to have to carry home. I am thinking very seriously of buying a parcel box from the post office and posting some stuff home. Shoes and clothes are so amazing here, the price for a top ranging from E49 to E179 which I guess is in the vicinity of what we pay at home. I might splash out when I get back to Montepulciano after I have done my next 11 days of cycling.
I am actually looking forward to getting back on the bike, and having a bit of structure to my days and a set goal for each day. Much as there is lots to look at, I have now had four days of aimlessly wandering about looking at stuff and I am ready to be back to a routine.
It is now morning, what a long night that was. I was awake a lot because of the pain in my wrist, and it is so bad now that I am only able to type using the middle finger and fourth fingers of my right hand. I will have to ring the Headwater rep early this morning and see if they can organise a doctor for me in Montepulciano, and as this is so painfully slow I am going to sign off now' Not looking forward to the train trip with two train changes to get to Chuisi station. More stairs i presume and having to lug my suitcase. Feel like saying a few swear words right now.
Talk to you again from Tuscany.
I caught the bus up, and tried to follow the route on the map as I went so I got off at the right place, but I couldn't work out where I was. For a start, the bus came in the opposite direction to where I thought it would come from. All the other traffic appeared to be going in one direction only, down the hill, and I was waiting on the opposite side of the road to the hotel, so I tried to orientate myself to where I was going. It didn't make a lot of sense, and then after waiting in the hot sun the bus pulled up, going the other direction. Didn't make sense to me at all, but this is Italy after all. So I then turned my map upside down and tried to work out where I was, but couldn't so decided I would just get out at the top of the hill. Aha, not as easy as I thought – one stop we were definitely still heading distinctly uphill, and the next stop we were heading down, so I got out at the next one, asked a young guy on a motor cycle to point out where I was on the map, and how to get to the citta centero, and he pointed across the road and to some steps. Oh boy, and I don't just mean a few steps, I mean lots of
So I climb the first lot of steps, and around the corner a whole lot more, and then more and
There are a few vehicles about, even in the narrow wee lanes, lots of people, but it wasn't awfully crowded and it certainly wasn't noisy. I wandered in and out of buildings, shops, churches, museums, down wee lanes, back up another. I went into the cathedral. It was awesome. So huge, so ornate, so cool, so peaceful. All around are signs saying no photos, so I resist the temptation to take photos in there, although lots of other tourists ignore the signs and cameras click and flashes go off all around the place. But after-all it is a place of worship, not just a tourist spot, so I respect the signs. I will just have to try and memorise the beautiful stained glass windows, the carved and painted ceilings, the huge (and I mean huge) paintings on the wall, the huge pieces of silverware in the wrought iron cages at the back of the church, the beautiful carved alcoves where people could light candles, and the biggest statue of Christ on the Cross that I have ever seen.
I sit on the steps outside and write a couple of postcards and soak up the atmosphere of the place. The clear blue sky – not a cloud to be seen, the peace, the tranquility, the sheer awesomeness of the place and try to imagine it being built so many hundreds of years ago.
Then the smell of food starts to waft around the place and I feel the urge to eat pizza for lunch. I wander around till I find a quiet little spot up a lane, in the shade with a nice soft and gentle cool breeze blowing and take a seat. Now so far in Perugia I haven't seen anything written in English and this menu is no different, so here goes. Along comes the “hottie” Kaydi – looks young enough to be my grandson, but he's cute.
I then order a coffee – I am getting used to these tiny little cups of espresso – they aren't strong and bitter at all, but rather smooth, sweet isn't the right word, but I can't find the right word to use at the moment.
I linger there in the cool for as long as I can, and then out again I go into the heat to explore some more of this wonderful place.
The middle of the afternoon arrives, and it is time to go back to the hotel for my nanna nap. I decide against trying to find the right bus stop, I am on the other side of the hill by this time and all the bus numbers are different over here, so rather than get lost, I treat myself to a taxi whichonly cost E6.75 and delivered me right at my hotel door. What a great idea.
And so back into the cool of the room. I walk in, and room service have re-arranged my bed – I had tidied it and pulled the bedspread up by apparently not good enough for them, because the bed has been remade, the blind is down, the curtains drawn and the room is in darkness. They have a real thing about having everything closed up here in Italy. This hotel hasn't got shutters, it has these heavy blackout blinds, which don't let a scrap of daylight in from the outside. I find this strange because at home I have my curtains open all the time and the only
time I close them is in the middle of winter to help keep the place warm. I guess here they are trying to keep the heat out, but I look around at the buildings surrounding the hotel and the shutters are drawn all day and night. It looks so unfriendly.
My nanna nap is over, and I am toying with the idea of a swim in the pool up on the rooftop. I might venture up and if there is no-one else about I might just be tempted to get in
I am actually looking forward to getting back on the bike, and having a bit of structure to my days and a set goal for each day. Much as there is lots to look at, I have now had four days of aimlessly wandering about looking at stuff and I am ready to be back to a routine.
It is now morning, what a long night that was. I was awake a lot because of the pain in my wrist, and it is so bad now that I am only able to type using the middle finger and fourth fingers of my right hand. I will have to ring the Headwater rep early this morning and see if they can organise a doctor for me in Montepulciano, and as this is so painfully slow I am going to sign off now' Not looking forward to the train trip with two train changes to get to Chuisi station. More stairs i presume and having to lug my suitcase. Feel like saying a few swear words right now.
Talk to you again from Tuscany.
18 June
Thursday – midday.
Up early as planned and down for breakfast before that huge crowd all arrived in the dining room and this morning made acquaintance with another lady dining alone. She was from Cardiff in Wales, a widow and also on his first solo trip to Europe. Great to compare notes and laugh about the stupid advice we both read about women travelling alone. She thought the tip about standing close to a wall when waiting for a train or bus was another dumb piece of advice. If you are in danger (and it would appear in this part of the country that is highly unlikely, and she agreed that she felt more vulnerable walking alone in Cardiff, then it would be so much easier for a would-be assailant to pin you against the wall and you would have no holpe of escaping – so there goes another safety rule for women travellers. I can see I am going to have to re-write the rules when I get home.
As suggested by Pina, the hotel owner, I went to the travel agent a few doors down the street and after waiting for about 20 minutes whilst she served another customer, I discovered that with my Eurorail pass I can just get on the train, and that the train to Perugia goes from the local station, and if I take the 11.12.13pm or the 2.13pm I do not have to change at Terontl. They are just regional trains so my pass will work fine. So I decided I had time for another quick look around the city (citta) and will aim to catch the 12.13pm. My bag is all packed up, and I leave it in the hotel locker room and off I trundle. At only 9am it is already very hot, clear blue sky, no air circulating at all.
I wander off in the direction I thought I saw a post office yesterday - I've written a couple of postcards and wanted to post them. On the way I end up at the Piazza Duomo so I go for my horse and carriage ride through the streets of the city. What a wonderful way to see it. I pass dozens of groups of tourists doing the walking tours, they all look hellishly hot and bothered, and I am sitting in comfort seeing all the buildings that they are having to walk to. Maybe my commentary is not as thorough as theirs, but my charming driver points out all the important bits along the way.
This place is so old, it is hard to even begin to imagine how they built them way back then. The cathedral is so tall and so ornately decorated with the hugest of statues way up high – how the hell did they get them up there. And we think we are clever today. And the amazing thing is that they are still standing hundreds of years later.
I am sad to leave Florence, there is still so much to see, but you really need to have a lot of time – I think my driver said 175 churchs and dozens of museums. We rode past two or three of the museums and there were great long queues waiting outside in the hot sun, so I had to be content just to visit and take photos of the imitation statue of David – and believe me that was
awesome enough. It is huge – the statue I mean. And the piazza is full of statues, men on horses, a man holding the head of someone etc etc. Must have kept sculptors in work for years and years just in this square alone.
All too soon it is time to head back to the hotel to collect my luggage. My case is getting heavier, and I really am only buying little bits and pieces, but they must be adding up – I wonder if I have gone over my 20 kg yet.
I gave the signora at the hotel a pair of paua shell earings for her kindness and friendship last night, and the co-owner (the chap from Albania who booked me in two days ago, gave me a gift from the hotel. It was beautifully wrapped tied up – a box of hand made Florentine soaps. How thoughtful, and Pina gave me a book on Florence – showing how it was and how it is now.
And so, trailing my suitcase behind me, I trundle my way in the heat to the railway station. I get there at 11.50am and I check the departure board. The train to Perugia No 3157 leaves from Platform 13. There is no train in sight, there is nothing on the sign on the platform so I figure I am in the right place and have plenty of time. At about 12.16 an express train pulls in, with business class written all along the outside. I check with some officials and learn that this is not the train to Perugia. For some reason I have either missed it, or it didn't come or it was on another platform. Who can understand this strange system.
So I now have a two hour wait, in a hot and crowded railway station waiting at Platform 14 for the 14.13pm train number 3159 to Perugia, Here's hoping I'm in the right place at the right time this time. And if all else fails there is another at 16.13pm but I hope to be settled nicely into my Chocohotel by then. It is now 13.15pm and I am starting to get peckish, probably more from boredom rather than actually being hungry so I might go and see what is on offer in the way of commuter food and drinks. There seem to be plenty of food places about.
It is now 9.25pm and I am back upstairs following dinner. I am so full and tonight I only had 2 courses, not even any dessert.
At the stazione I didn't get anything to eat - lots of food about but all great big chunks of bread filled with cheese and ham or cheese and salami, nothing small and light, so I drank some water and made do with that. They eat an amazing amount of bread here - great big thick slices of it, and dry, no butter.
I kept checking the departures board to make sure that I was waiting for the correct train at the correct platform, but I noticed that people were standing in front of one of those big boards like at the airport which shows departures and arrivals. So I checked with a lady who was sitting with a huge pile of luggage – she looked like a seasoned traveller – and thankfully she was. She told me that the permanent board is there just as a guide and that the platform numbers can change from time to time. Luckily she was catching the same train as me, although getting off earlier, so I stuck with her, and we helped each other get our heavy suitcases up onto the train. She was a widow from Thailand, who had been married to an Italian man and spends six months in Italy and six months in Thailand. She speaks both Italian and English very well. I enjoyed talking with her on the train, and then when she got off the young Italian girl sitting next to me started pointing out things of interest along the way. She was Turino in the north, a nutritionist at the osperdale (hospital) and was going home to Perugia for her summer holiday. It is amazing how easy it has been very me to have wonderful conversations with so many strangers, something I have never really done before.
I got a telling off from the conductor, he was a very serious man, no sense of humour, no compassion for a foreigner whatsoever. Now the hotel people and the travel agent said I could just get on the train with my Rail Pass. I asked about validating it, and they all said no, just get on the train. I asked a couple of official looking rail people on the stazione if I needed to get a ticket and the said no, just board the train. Now, this conductor was not amused when I handed over my ticket. I was supposed to write todays date in the little square BEFORE GETTING ON THE TRAIN, he said to me in a very officious voice. Otherwise I would have to pay E40. “Always before getting on the train” he repeated about four times, and I think I have gotten the message now. I thought he would just punch the little box with his ticket punching gadget that he swung round and round in his hand while he waiting for me to get my ticket out of my wallet. But no, it is up to me to write the date in the square. You see I have a ticket I can use for any eight days over the next two months in Italy, Switzerland or France and it has 8 little boxes. I will get the hang of this by the time I'm finished.
Oh dear, it is so easy to offend these people, but hopefully I scored a cultural browny point tonight when I looked horrified when the waiter offered me an Americano coffee or a cappuccino after my dinner. You see I know that you mustn't order cappuccino after 11.00am and they frown at people having Americano coffee, and so I ordered espresso lunga. It was still very short, about ¾ of one of those tiny wee cups instead of the thimbleful you get if you have an ordinary espresso. But I must say, it was a very nice coffee, not strong and bitter, and with a lovely thick golden crema on the top. Apart from it still only being a mouthful, I did rather enjoy it.
So now to tell you about the rest of my day. I got off the train at Perugia and grabbed a taxi to the hotel. Now I was a little anxious here because the lady at Hotel Byron had told me that the Chocohotel was 46 km away from the stazione. However when I had checked it out on the internet I thought it said only 1.5 km. So I asked the taxi driver how far, but either in English or Italiano she said “non compendo” so I crossed fingers and prayed that it was only 1.5 km and not the distance Pina had said it was, and luckily it was the short distance and cost me E7.00 although we went round in a big circle because the streets are one way. However much better to spend that than to struggle up the hill in the heat. I sure wish I had stuck to the little suitcase, this one is getting so heavy – although I do have my overnight bag inside it. One young chap who was collecting money for the anti-drugs campaign outside the station in Firenze asked helped me carry my bag up the stairs (always stairs in the railway stations – up to the terminal, down to the subway, up to the platform) and asked me if I had a dead husband inside it. I have sorted out a pile of stuff which I might post home, the maps I've already used and the books and brochures and pamphlets I have collected along the way. I am loathe to send anything too important or valuable in case it goes astray.
But again I digress – see how my mind is going off on a tangent all the time – so many things to write about, so many things to remember. If I don't write them down I will forget.
Ah yes, the Chocohotel. Mmmmmmm the smell of chocolate as you walk into the foyer. Straight ahead is the reception desk, to the left the Chocostore and to the right the restaurant. I was pleased to see that the booking I did on the internet from Firenze had worked and I had arrived at the right place on the right day – always a good start. I am handed my key and a souvenir block of chocolate and am told my room is on the 4th floor and that the swimming pool is on the roof top.
I am on the “dark chocolate piano.” Now there are two words that I had a bit of trouble getting my head around when I arrived here – the first one is camera which means room and piano which is floor.
So “la camera singola ha il bagno” “Si signora, per quantti notte?” “per due notte, per favore” “Benissimo. Ecco a lei la chiave” “Camera quattro zero uno”
After unpacking and sorting my handbag I thought I would go for a walk and find the city centre. I go down to reception and discover that I need to get a bus from across the road, or I can walk to the stazione and catch the mini-metro. So I step outside and am hit by the heat. It is 5pm and it is so hot. I started walking down to the station only to discover that about 100 yards down the road the pavement finishes and there are no pedestrians around. There must be a walking path somewhere, so I head back up the hill. It is so hot, my feet are so tired from all my walking in Florence and I am feeling weary so I decide to go back to the cool of my room and have a nanna nap before dinner. I decide I will eat in the restaurant – it looks very classy – and I will go discover the city in the morning.
So at 8.15pm, after a nanna nap and a shower I am feeling much more relaxed and I head downstairs. One other gentleman in the restaurant at this point, and I am shown to my table. The waiter hands me il menu. Oh my gosh, it is all in Italian, no translations of any type. So out comes my trusty phrase book and I turn to the blue pages at the back which are the menu guide.
Already I can recognise parts of the descriptions but some of the words confuse me, and would you believe it, most of those words are not in my phrasebook. But I am determined to order from here.
I decide for my starter to have proscuitto di Norcia il melone
and I quite like the look of gnocchi il gratinata a tatufo.
Now two bits confused me and I had to ask the waiter for explanation – di Norcia means a special way the proscuitto is cured, specific to the area of Perugia, and the 'a tatufo.' Now in my book it says this is icecream sprinkled with chocolate powder or truffle. Now I was thinking of truffle as a chocolate truffle, but aha, no, it is the real “black truffle” The waiter tells me this is a very nice dish, and so I decide to have it. As yet I have not tried gnocchi. He does not ask me to order any further dishes, but asks me about wine and I order il bicchiere vino bianco per favore”
The first course arrives, it is very nice and of course I have had this before, I think at Teolo. The proscuitto is quite different, but again very tasty and the melon is very juicy, very sweet and very chilled. A very nice starter.
Then for the gnocchi. It comes in a small bowl, is piping hot and has a slightly crusty topping of cheese on top, in a cheesy sauce. It is delicious. Little dots of black throughout – look about the size of coursely ground peppercorns, which I presume is the tatufo. But it is delicious, but oh so filling. I manage to slowly eat the lot, not going to waste it, it cost me E10.50 – thats about $25 for an entree.
But I am full after this, and the waiter must notice this as he does not offer me anything else – not even dessert and this is a chocolate hotel – but offers the coffee and as I said before, I did not disgrace myself by ordering the wrong thing. He smiled at me and brought me this lovely coffee.
During my meal I was joined in the dining room by a couple, and another man on his own, who obviously knows the waiter well as they spend a lot of time chatting, laughing and joking and the waiter slaps him on the shoulder several times during the course of the conversation.
And so by this time it is after 9pm and I head up to my room, after checking at reception for the code and password for the wi-fi. But I cannot get the signal in my room, so will wait until breakfast time. I am sure there isn't anything too important waiting for me – most of my emails have only been the regular subscription stuff I get on kinect, the junk mail on xtra.
I get a txt from Rowan about midnight, asking how I am and where am I? I replied to him and dropped back off to sleep and then got a txt from Dee, responding to my text telling her all about my cooking class and my gorgeous and charming chef. She agreed I should bring him home and start a restaurant.
And now it is morning again, and time to get started. It is just gone 7.30 and already the sun is up and it looks hot outside. It is very quiet out there at the moment, not a lot of traffic on this road yet. I will head down for breakfast soon, and get my day started. My right hand is very sore, and around the base of my thumb is very swollen, and I can't move my thumb at all without it hurting. I must have strained it getting my suitcase on and off the train.
A new rule to add – limit the size of your bag to plane cabin size if you are travelling on your own. Especially if travelling from place to place. A bigger bag is too heavy to lift on and off trains, and then you have to store it in the luggage compartment between carriages and you spend the whole time worrying about it. I think it would be much better to have two small cases.
And a rule to delete – lose the handbag – put your money and passport in a money belt. That's fine and dandy if you are not going to be spending any money that day. It is not a good look scrambling under your teeshirt to get your money out when you want to buy something. You still need to have a day pack (and that identifies you immediately as a tourist) or a handbag (a better option as you look more like a local – especially in Italy where the women all carry beautiful big handbags) Keep a small wallet or change purse in your handbag with just a small amount of spending money in it and if necessary keep the bulk in your money belt and top up your spending money as necessary.
Up early as planned and down for breakfast before that huge crowd all arrived in the dining room and this morning made acquaintance with another lady dining alone. She was from Cardiff in Wales, a widow and also on his first solo trip to Europe. Great to compare notes and laugh about the stupid advice we both read about women travelling alone. She thought the tip about standing close to a wall when waiting for a train or bus was another dumb piece of advice. If you are in danger (and it would appear in this part of the country that is highly unlikely, and she agreed that she felt more vulnerable walking alone in Cardiff, then it would be so much easier for a would-be assailant to pin you against the wall and you would have no holpe of escaping – so there goes another safety rule for women travellers. I can see I am going to have to re-write the rules when I get home.
As suggested by Pina, the hotel owner, I went to the travel agent a few doors down the street and after waiting for about 20 minutes whilst she served another customer, I discovered that with my Eurorail pass I can just get on the train, and that the train to Perugia goes from the local station, and if I take the 11.12.13pm or the 2.13pm I do not have to change at Terontl. They are just regional trains so my pass will work fine. So I decided I had time for another quick look around the city (citta) and will aim to catch the 12.13pm. My bag is all packed up, and I leave it in the hotel locker room and off I trundle. At only 9am it is already very hot, clear blue sky, no air circulating at all.
I wander off in the direction I thought I saw a post office yesterday - I've written a couple of postcards and wanted to post them. On the way I end up at the Piazza Duomo so I go for my horse and carriage ride through the streets of the city. What a wonderful way to see it. I pass dozens of groups of tourists doing the walking tours, they all look hellishly hot and bothered, and I am sitting in comfort seeing all the buildings that they are having to walk to. Maybe my commentary is not as thorough as theirs, but my charming driver points out all the important bits along the way.
This place is so old, it is hard to even begin to imagine how they built them way back then. The cathedral is so tall and so ornately decorated with the hugest of statues way up high – how the hell did they get them up there. And we think we are clever today. And the amazing thing is that they are still standing hundreds of years later.
I am sad to leave Florence, there is still so much to see, but you really need to have a lot of time – I think my driver said 175 churchs and dozens of museums. We rode past two or three of the museums and there were great long queues waiting outside in the hot sun, so I had to be content just to visit and take photos of the imitation statue of David – and believe me that was
All too soon it is time to head back to the hotel to collect my luggage. My case is getting heavier, and I really am only buying little bits and pieces, but they must be adding up – I wonder if I have gone over my 20 kg yet.
I gave the signora at the hotel a pair of paua shell earings for her kindness and friendship last night, and the co-owner (the chap from Albania who booked me in two days ago, gave me a gift from the hotel. It was beautifully wrapped tied up – a box of hand made Florentine soaps. How thoughtful, and Pina gave me a book on Florence – showing how it was and how it is now.
And so, trailing my suitcase behind me, I trundle my way in the heat to the railway station. I get there at 11.50am and I check the departure board. The train to Perugia No 3157 leaves from Platform 13. There is no train in sight, there is nothing on the sign on the platform so I figure I am in the right place and have plenty of time. At about 12.16 an express train pulls in, with business class written all along the outside. I check with some officials and learn that this is not the train to Perugia. For some reason I have either missed it, or it didn't come or it was on another platform. Who can understand this strange system.
So I now have a two hour wait, in a hot and crowded railway station waiting at Platform 14 for the 14.13pm train number 3159 to Perugia, Here's hoping I'm in the right place at the right time this time. And if all else fails there is another at 16.13pm but I hope to be settled nicely into my Chocohotel by then. It is now 13.15pm and I am starting to get peckish, probably more from boredom rather than actually being hungry so I might go and see what is on offer in the way of commuter food and drinks. There seem to be plenty of food places about.
It is now 9.25pm and I am back upstairs following dinner. I am so full and tonight I only had 2 courses, not even any dessert.
At the stazione I didn't get anything to eat - lots of food about but all great big chunks of bread filled with cheese and ham or cheese and salami, nothing small and light, so I drank some water and made do with that. They eat an amazing amount of bread here - great big thick slices of it, and dry, no butter.
I kept checking the departures board to make sure that I was waiting for the correct train at the correct platform, but I noticed that people were standing in front of one of those big boards like at the airport which shows departures and arrivals. So I checked with a lady who was sitting with a huge pile of luggage – she looked like a seasoned traveller – and thankfully she was. She told me that the permanent board is there just as a guide and that the platform numbers can change from time to time. Luckily she was catching the same train as me, although getting off earlier, so I stuck with her, and we helped each other get our heavy suitcases up onto the train. She was a widow from Thailand, who had been married to an Italian man and spends six months in Italy and six months in Thailand. She speaks both Italian and English very well. I enjoyed talking with her on the train, and then when she got off the young Italian girl sitting next to me started pointing out things of interest along the way. She was Turino in the north, a nutritionist at the osperdale (hospital) and was going home to Perugia for her summer holiday. It is amazing how easy it has been very me to have wonderful conversations with so many strangers, something I have never really done before.
I got a telling off from the conductor, he was a very serious man, no sense of humour, no compassion for a foreigner whatsoever. Now the hotel people and the travel agent said I could just get on the train with my Rail Pass. I asked about validating it, and they all said no, just get on the train. I asked a couple of official looking rail people on the stazione if I needed to get a ticket and the said no, just board the train. Now, this conductor was not amused when I handed over my ticket. I was supposed to write todays date in the little square BEFORE GETTING ON THE TRAIN, he said to me in a very officious voice. Otherwise I would have to pay E40. “Always before getting on the train” he repeated about four times, and I think I have gotten the message now. I thought he would just punch the little box with his ticket punching gadget that he swung round and round in his hand while he waiting for me to get my ticket out of my wallet. But no, it is up to me to write the date in the square. You see I have a ticket I can use for any eight days over the next two months in Italy, Switzerland or France and it has 8 little boxes. I will get the hang of this by the time I'm finished.
Oh dear, it is so easy to offend these people, but hopefully I scored a cultural browny point tonight when I looked horrified when the waiter offered me an Americano coffee or a cappuccino after my dinner. You see I know that you mustn't order cappuccino after 11.00am and they frown at people having Americano coffee, and so I ordered espresso lunga. It was still very short, about ¾ of one of those tiny wee cups instead of the thimbleful you get if you have an ordinary espresso. But I must say, it was a very nice coffee, not strong and bitter, and with a lovely thick golden crema on the top. Apart from it still only being a mouthful, I did rather enjoy it.
So now to tell you about the rest of my day. I got off the train at Perugia and grabbed a taxi to the hotel. Now I was a little anxious here because the lady at Hotel Byron had told me that the Chocohotel was 46 km away from the stazione. However when I had checked it out on the internet I thought it said only 1.5 km. So I asked the taxi driver how far, but either in English or Italiano she said “non compendo” so I crossed fingers and prayed that it was only 1.5 km and not the distance Pina had said it was, and luckily it was the short distance and cost me E7.00 although we went round in a big circle because the streets are one way. However much better to spend that than to struggle up the hill in the heat. I sure wish I had stuck to the little suitcase, this one is getting so heavy – although I do have my overnight bag inside it. One young chap who was collecting money for the anti-drugs campaign outside the station in Firenze asked helped me carry my bag up the stairs (always stairs in the railway stations – up to the terminal, down to the subway, up to the platform) and asked me if I had a dead husband inside it. I have sorted out a pile of stuff which I might post home, the maps I've already used and the books and brochures and pamphlets I have collected along the way. I am loathe to send anything too important or valuable in case it goes astray.
But again I digress – see how my mind is going off on a tangent all the time – so many things to write about, so many things to remember. If I don't write them down I will forget.
Ah yes, the Chocohotel. Mmmmmmm the smell of chocolate as you walk into the foyer. Straight ahead is the reception desk, to the left the Chocostore and to the right the restaurant. I was pleased to see that the booking I did on the internet from Firenze had worked and I had arrived at the right place on the right day – always a good start. I am handed my key and a souvenir block of chocolate and am told my room is on the 4th floor and that the swimming pool is on the roof top.
I am on the “dark chocolate piano.” Now there are two words that I had a bit of trouble getting my head around when I arrived here – the first one is camera which means room and piano which is floor.
So “la camera singola ha il bagno” “Si signora, per quantti notte?” “per due notte, per favore” “Benissimo. Ecco a lei la chiave” “Camera quattro zero uno”
After unpacking and sorting my handbag I thought I would go for a walk and find the city centre. I go down to reception and discover that I need to get a bus from across the road, or I can walk to the stazione and catch the mini-metro. So I step outside and am hit by the heat. It is 5pm and it is so hot. I started walking down to the station only to discover that about 100 yards down the road the pavement finishes and there are no pedestrians around. There must be a walking path somewhere, so I head back up the hill. It is so hot, my feet are so tired from all my walking in Florence and I am feeling weary so I decide to go back to the cool of my room and have a nanna nap before dinner. I decide I will eat in the restaurant – it looks very classy – and I will go discover the city in the morning.
So at 8.15pm, after a nanna nap and a shower I am feeling much more relaxed and I head downstairs. One other gentleman in the restaurant at this point, and I am shown to my table. The waiter hands me il menu. Oh my gosh, it is all in Italian, no translations of any type. So out comes my trusty phrase book and I turn to the blue pages at the back which are the menu guide.
Already I can recognise parts of the descriptions but some of the words confuse me, and would you believe it, most of those words are not in my phrasebook. But I am determined to order from here.
I decide for my starter to have proscuitto di Norcia il melone
Now two bits confused me and I had to ask the waiter for explanation – di Norcia means a special way the proscuitto is cured, specific to the area of Perugia, and the 'a tatufo.' Now in my book it says this is icecream sprinkled with chocolate powder or truffle. Now I was thinking of truffle as a chocolate truffle, but aha, no, it is the real “black truffle” The waiter tells me this is a very nice dish, and so I decide to have it. As yet I have not tried gnocchi. He does not ask me to order any further dishes, but asks me about wine and I order il bicchiere vino bianco per favore”
The first course arrives, it is very nice and of course I have had this before, I think at Teolo. The proscuitto is quite different, but again very tasty and the melon is very juicy, very sweet and very chilled. A very nice starter.
Then for the gnocchi. It comes in a small bowl, is piping hot and has a slightly crusty topping of cheese on top, in a cheesy sauce. It is delicious. Little dots of black throughout – look about the size of coursely ground peppercorns, which I presume is the tatufo. But it is delicious, but oh so filling. I manage to slowly eat the lot, not going to waste it, it cost me E10.50 – thats about $25 for an entree.
But I am full after this, and the waiter must notice this as he does not offer me anything else – not even dessert and this is a chocolate hotel – but offers the coffee and as I said before, I did not disgrace myself by ordering the wrong thing. He smiled at me and brought me this lovely coffee.
During my meal I was joined in the dining room by a couple, and another man on his own, who obviously knows the waiter well as they spend a lot of time chatting, laughing and joking and the waiter slaps him on the shoulder several times during the course of the conversation.
And so by this time it is after 9pm and I head up to my room, after checking at reception for the code and password for the wi-fi. But I cannot get the signal in my room, so will wait until breakfast time. I am sure there isn't anything too important waiting for me – most of my emails have only been the regular subscription stuff I get on kinect, the junk mail on xtra.
I get a txt from Rowan about midnight, asking how I am and where am I? I replied to him and dropped back off to sleep and then got a txt from Dee, responding to my text telling her all about my cooking class and my gorgeous and charming chef. She agreed I should bring him home and start a restaurant.
And now it is morning again, and time to get started. It is just gone 7.30 and already the sun is up and it looks hot outside. It is very quiet out there at the moment, not a lot of traffic on this road yet. I will head down for breakfast soon, and get my day started. My right hand is very sore, and around the base of my thumb is very swollen, and I can't move my thumb at all without it hurting. I must have strained it getting my suitcase on and off the train.
A new rule to add – limit the size of your bag to plane cabin size if you are travelling on your own. Especially if travelling from place to place. A bigger bag is too heavy to lift on and off trains, and then you have to store it in the luggage compartment between carriages and you spend the whole time worrying about it. I think it would be much better to have two small cases.
And a rule to delete – lose the handbag – put your money and passport in a money belt. That's fine and dandy if you are not going to be spending any money that day. It is not a good look scrambling under your teeshirt to get your money out when you want to buy something. You still need to have a day pack (and that identifies you immediately as a tourist) or a handbag (a better option as you look more like a local – especially in Italy where the women all carry beautiful big handbags) Keep a small wallet or change purse in your handbag with just a small amount of spending money in it and if necessary keep the bulk in your money belt and top up your spending money as necessary.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
17 giugno 2009
What an absolutely awesome day. Despite the heat overnight I did manage to get some sleep, and I am getting used to these hard Italian matresses. It is too hot to get into bed and I have slept on top with not even a sheet over me for the last few nights and it is even stickier and hotter here in Firenze (Florence) I got up and packed my bag so the staff can shift it to my new room and then went down for breakfast. A good range of food for breakfast – the traditional bread and croissants, but as well fruit and cereal and yoghurt, cake (still can't get my head around eating cake for breakfast) as well as ham and cheese slices, and a huge big bowl of fresh fruit – peaches, apricots, oranges, apples and cherrys. But the big surprise was the push button coffee machine that serves latte, cappuccino, mocha etc like we get at home in places like Subway. I didn't expect to see one here, what with coffee being such a culture, but I guess when you have to feed a dining room full of people all wanting coffee for breakfast this is the easiest way to do it. The cappuccino isn't too bad actually and I have two of them with my breakfast.
I brought my notebook down with me, in the hope that I was going to be able to connect to wifi, but alas, still no joy (but of note I was able to connect when I came back in this afternoon and I can connect again tonight.)
I left the hotel early, I had about a 15-20 minute walk to Florencetown, and as I had no idea what I was looking for, I thought I had better set out early. Just as well, it was quite difficult to find and even a street seller selling belts and wallets and other leather goods didn't know where to send me. As it turned out it was about 10 doors up the road. But a tiny narrow door, I was worried I was going to have so slide in sideways, and the sign on the wall was smaller than a business card. My navigational powers seemed to be much more in control today, and I negotiated my way to the street with no trouble whatsever, and as I was early I went for a wander and found the piazza with the David statues. Most impressive, but these aren't in fact the original David and it would seem that I am not going to get time to go to see it because I have to catch my train reasonably early tomorrow. Oh well never mind, the substitutes were pretty impressive and I will make do with having seen them.
I wandered back to Florencetown to be met, downstairs on the street by the receptionist and the chef, Giovanni. They took me up a couple of flights of stairs to their office where I paid for my day and then Giovanni explained that I was the only guest today, so we were now going to walk to the market to buy the fresh produce for our meal.
We walked quite a way, but it was fun, and we walked through a huge big market (and I was hoping I could find my way back to it this afternoon or tomorrow morning before I leave but as it turned out that was a no to both those options)
At the market we wandered through all the different areas and Giovanni pointed out different points of interest along the way, including a stall that sold traditional street food including roast beef and tripe. This - market is huge and you can buy absolutely everything – bread, pasta, meat, chicken, wine, cheese and then we went upstairs to the huge big vegetable market. Giovanni led the way to the back of the market to a wee stall where he buys his fruit and vegetables for his cooking class, all locally grown products.
He picked out zuchinni (with the flowers attached – a lighter green than what we get at home and with ridged skins). He bought an aubergine and some parsley and a big tomato. While we were waiting he handed me an apricot to taste and a couple of cherrys. Again they were just so juicy and sweet. Back down the stairs to buy a half a loaf of fresh bread and back past the stall that was selling the tripe and Giovanni ordered me a bowl of it to try. Now trying very hard not to think back to that disgusting tripe we used to serve up in the hospital when I was doing my training, and not to think of what it is and where it comes from, I tried it. It was kind of chewy, despite having been cooked for a long time, but it had a tasty juice poured over it, and was served with a pesto and a chilli sauce, and all-in-all it wasn't too bad. Now i'm not sure that I would want to cook it, but I would try it again if it was cooked like that. (just an aside here - there is a group of people who meet regularly in Tauranga to eat tripe – I wonder if any of them cook it like this, or whether it is all done the English way – tripe and onions in a white sauce.)
So then it was on to the wineseller to get some wine to have with this meal, and it was here that I bought some wee bottles of Limoncello to take home. From here, we left the market and caught a bus to via Luca Vanducci where we were to cook this meal. What a fabulous place, quiet, relaxing and inviting, with examples of Giovanni's artwork on the walls.]
The menu was to be: bruschetta with garlic and tomato to start. This was very tasty and I will be able to reproduce this quite easily at home, using ciabatta which I buy from Foodtown.
Giovanni told me that the secret to good Italian food is simplicity and using the freshest of produce. Here they shop daily for what they want to cook that day. What a wonderful way to do it, but imagine at home having to go to the supermarket every single day. That would drive me nuts, but this experience has encouraged me to grow even more of my own food when I get home.
Next came the rissotto. I was so pleased he had chosen this dish, as I really wanted to learn how to do this, and I will cook this for you all when I get home. The secret here is to cook it slowly and keep adding a little stock to keep it moist. We used zuchinni and the flower. It was delicious, so tasty and so creamy. And here I made another promise to myself – Never again will I use a Rissotto mix from Continental or Maggie or any other pre-packaged variety. It really has no resemblance at all to the real thing.
Now for the main dish – beef meatballs and the side dish was aubergine, which was sliced then dry fried and topped with origano, mozarello, tomato etc and topped with another slice of grilled aubergine and then dry fried again until the cheese was melted.
All through the cooking Giovanni would give other suggestions such as how to cook pasta, what other ingredients could have been used etc. He always uses unsalted butter and then seasons to taste afterwards
The desert – fresh berries sauteed with sugar and rum, flamed and then served over plain ice cream. What could be better than that.
And all this washed down with a bottle of Tuscan red wine. What a perfetto way to spend a day – great food, good wine and pleasant company. Giovanni was a perfect host, great teacher and such a pleasant young man. His English was perfect, so I didn't get to practice my Italian, much easier to have a good conversation in English.
He showed me whereabouts I was on the map and explained that I could get a Number 6 bus back to the piazza, but it didn't look too far to walk and I figured it would do me much more good to walk – wear off some of these calories and also experience the city by walking through the streets. It was a lovely walk, past lots of shops, and again every shop is different here. Every shop has different merchandise, not like at home where each town is the same, a warehouse, a supermarket, all the food chains (McD, BK, Pizza Hut, Subway etc, for the food and all the other franchise stores – Mitre 10, Freedom, Farmers, Amcal's and Glassons etc etc.)
Here, small boutique shops, each one much different, not containing racks and racks of the same clothes. Even in the bigger department store I went into in Padova, there weren't racks of the same, just in different colours. Every second or third shop is a bar, or a gelateria, or a food shop of some sort. The variety of food is also amazing – the flavours of ice cream is extensive. The cake shops – chocolate, meringues, tarts, biscuits – so much to choose from – and I am very wisely resisting the temptation.
I really enjoyed my stroll back to the hotel – it took about an hour to slowly make my way back – looking in lots of shops as I went. It was very hot and rain was threatening, with a few large drops of rain, but it didn't come to anything. I stopped for a drink in a wee bar close to the hotel, and on my arrival at Hotel Byron I find the lobby full of people and luggage, spilling out onto the street. My goodness what is happening here. Fifty something tourists from Utah have invaded the place and are trying to sort themselves into their rooms, but they have taken over the whole place, the tiny little elevator and getting through to the reception desk to get my key (for my new room on the 4th floor) and then to try and get the elevator was a real mission. In the end I chose to walk up the stairs – phew, now for a shower and a nanna nap. I am getting used to this afternoon rest – hope I am not going to need them when I get back to work.
After my rest I decided I should try and book an hotel room in Perugia for tomorrow night and so go on-line to do this. And a chose a funky looking hotel called Etruscan Chocohotel. Do a google search for it and see where I am going to be staying. It is a chocoholics paradise. I check out the trains to Perugia and think I might rock on up to Florencetown in the morning and do the cycle tour through the city before I leave, and I decide to head out to the piazza now and take a ride in one of the horse and carts I saw last night. So I get myself spruced up for an evening stroll and head downstairs and hand in my key at reception. I am then grabbed by the lady at the desk, who tells me she has been waiting for me to come downstairs, and takes me by the arm and leads me through to the lounge, where she offers me food and a drink of bubbles and tells me she wants to hear all about my day with the chef. She had not booked anybody on this tour before so wanted to know all about it. It turns out that she in fact owns the hotel.
We talk and eat and drink for ages, she is just such an absolute delight, so friendly, so interesting and again speaks such good English. She wants to hear about the rest of my holiday and is amazed to hear that I am cycling around all on my own. We talk about our families and other travels (she goes to London and America frequently and in fact was in London at the same time I was). She tells me that she has a large group from Utah at this time every year, and that Florence is very busy this week particularly because there is a big Fashion Fair on where all the designers and buyers from the big European fashion houses are in town. We are joined by a delightful young couple and she tells them all about my cycling and the young girl asks politely if she could ask my age – I tell her and she claps her hand over her mouth and says how incredible that is for me to be doing this. (Actually Giovanni said the same thing this morning). The couple leave, they are going to the fashion fair - she is beautiful (dark curly hair, immaculate makeup, beautiful jewelled dangly earrings and a stunning outfit – black flowing pants in a very soft chiffon type material (but not see-through) gathered in at the ankles, giving them a look almost of harem pants but much more flattering; high heel shoes, a very wide belt worn over the hips and a strapless top. She looks stunning.
The hotel owner then asks me what I am to do tomorrow and I tell her I will catch the train to Perugia. She tells me that this is not as easy as a train from here to Roma. I will have to change and so she takes me to her desk and looks up on Google (whatever did we do before google) and prints out the details. I have to go to a different train station (so much for getting an hotel near the station) and it will be better to get a cab as it will be difficult with my suitcase to get on the bus. She tells me to go two doors down and buy the train ticket from her friend at the travel shop, and then she asks about a hotel. I tell her I have made a booking this time, I was not going to make the mistake of arriving in a town without one like I did when I arrived in Florence. I told her about the chocohotel and she said “surely not” she looked it up on google and when she saw the picture of the room with the basket of chocolate on the bed she said “Oh Jesus” and each page she looked at she said “Oh Jesus” again. By now she was wanting to come with me. She asked me to let her know what it is like as she had never heard of it before and would like to know so she may recommend other guests if they are looking for an hotel in Perugia.
By now it is getting late and she is needing to get away home, so off she goes. It is starting to get dark now, so I opt just to go across the road for an ice cream and a soft drink – have aborted the plan for the horse and cart ride – will have to do that another time. I seriously hope to return to Florence in the future, it is beautiful, it is friendly, it is bustling but not unpleasantly so.
When I get to the gelateria I choose instead an apple tart and an espresso and sit for a while just enjoying being out amongst the locals. Its 10pm and I don't feel scared or lonely at all. There are so many people about and I am, after-all, just across the road from my hotel.
Then it is back to my room on the 4th floor. There is a little ladder to climb up to open the window, but all you can see is roof tops. I open the window in the bathroom and look the other way, and again only roof tops, but with that window open I can smell the aroma of the city – food smells lingering in the hot heavy air. It is still very hot and I have another cool shower before shutting down for the night.
And sadly, that is it for Florence. The hotel owner suggests catching the 12.13 train from Campo di Marte train station and that I let the Estruscan know when I am arriving so that they will meet me at the station. She tells me it is 46km from Perugia (but I have checked again and it looks to me like only 1.5km from the station – let's see which one of us is right.
Oh darn there go those church bells again, what is the time? Wow it is 7.14am I had better close now, post this and get my shower and get down to breakfast before those 50 Americans.
Ciao for another day
I brought my notebook down with me, in the hope that I was going to be able to connect to wifi, but alas, still no joy (but of note I was able to connect when I came back in this afternoon and I can connect again tonight.)
I left the hotel early, I had about a 15-20 minute walk to Florencetown, and as I had no idea what I was looking for, I thought I had better set out early. Just as well, it was quite difficult to find and even a street seller selling belts and wallets and other leather goods didn't know where to send me. As it turned out it was about 10 doors up the road. But a tiny narrow door, I was worried I was going to have so slide in sideways, and the sign on the wall was smaller than a business card. My navigational powers seemed to be much more in control today, and I negotiated my way to the street with no trouble whatsever, and as I was early I went for a wander and found the piazza with the David statues. Most impressive, but these aren't in fact the original David and it would seem that I am not going to get time to go to see it because I have to catch my train reasonably early tomorrow. Oh well never mind, the substitutes were pretty impressive and I will make do with having seen them.
I wandered back to Florencetown to be met, downstairs on the street by the receptionist and the chef, Giovanni. They took me up a couple of flights of stairs to their office where I paid for my day and then Giovanni explained that I was the only guest today, so we were now going to walk to the market to buy the fresh produce for our meal.
We walked quite a way, but it was fun, and we walked through a huge big market (and I was hoping I could find my way back to it this afternoon or tomorrow morning before I leave but as it turned out that was a no to both those options)
At the market we wandered through all the different areas and Giovanni pointed out different points of interest along the way, including a stall that sold traditional street food including roast beef and tripe. This - market is huge and you can buy absolutely everything – bread, pasta, meat, chicken, wine, cheese and then we went upstairs to the huge big vegetable market. Giovanni led the way to the back of the market to a wee stall where he buys his fruit and vegetables for his cooking class, all locally grown products.
He picked out zuchinni (with the flowers attached – a lighter green than what we get at home and with ridged skins). He bought an aubergine and some parsley and a big tomato. While we were waiting he handed me an apricot to taste and a couple of cherrys. Again they were just so juicy and sweet. Back down the stairs to buy a half a loaf of fresh bread and back past the stall that was selling the tripe and Giovanni ordered me a bowl of it to try. Now trying very hard not to think back to that disgusting tripe we used to serve up in the hospital when I was doing my training, and not to think of what it is and where it comes from, I tried it. It was kind of chewy, despite having been cooked for a long time, but it had a tasty juice poured over it, and was served with a pesto and a chilli sauce, and all-in-all it wasn't too bad. Now i'm not sure that I would want to cook it, but I would try it again if it was cooked like that. (just an aside here - there is a group of people who meet regularly in Tauranga to eat tripe – I wonder if any of them cook it like this, or whether it is all done the English way – tripe and onions in a white sauce.)
So then it was on to the wineseller to get some wine to have with this meal, and it was here that I bought some wee bottles of Limoncello to take home. From here, we left the market and caught a bus to via Luca Vanducci where we were to cook this meal. What a fabulous place, quiet, relaxing and inviting, with examples of Giovanni's artwork on the walls.]
The menu was to be: bruschetta with garlic and tomato to start. This was very tasty and I will be able to reproduce this quite easily at home, using ciabatta which I buy from Foodtown.
Giovanni told me that the secret to good Italian food is simplicity and using the freshest of produce. Here they shop daily for what they want to cook that day. What a wonderful way to do it, but imagine at home having to go to the supermarket every single day. That would drive me nuts, but this experience has encouraged me to grow even more of my own food when I get home.
Next came the rissotto. I was so pleased he had chosen this dish, as I really wanted to learn how to do this, and I will cook this for you all when I get home. The secret here is to cook it slowly and keep adding a little stock to keep it moist. We used zuchinni and the flower. It was delicious, so tasty and so creamy. And here I made another promise to myself – Never again will I use a Rissotto mix from Continental or Maggie or any other pre-packaged variety. It really has no resemblance at all to the real thing.
Now for the main dish – beef meatballs and the side dish was aubergine, which was sliced then dry fried and topped with origano, mozarello, tomato etc and topped with another slice of grilled aubergine and then dry fried again until the cheese was melted.
All through the cooking Giovanni would give other suggestions such as how to cook pasta, what other ingredients could have been used etc. He always uses unsalted butter and then seasons to taste afterwards
The desert – fresh berries sauteed with sugar and rum, flamed and then served over plain ice cream. What could be better than that.
And all this washed down with a bottle of Tuscan red wine. What a perfetto way to spend a day – great food, good wine and pleasant company. Giovanni was a perfect host, great teacher and such a pleasant young man. His English was perfect, so I didn't get to practice my Italian, much easier to have a good conversation in English.
He showed me whereabouts I was on the map and explained that I could get a Number 6 bus back to the piazza, but it didn't look too far to walk and I figured it would do me much more good to walk – wear off some of these calories and also experience the city by walking through the streets. It was a lovely walk, past lots of shops, and again every shop is different here. Every shop has different merchandise, not like at home where each town is the same, a warehouse, a supermarket, all the food chains (McD, BK, Pizza Hut, Subway etc, for the food and all the other franchise stores – Mitre 10, Freedom, Farmers, Amcal's and Glassons etc etc.)
Here, small boutique shops, each one much different, not containing racks and racks of the same clothes. Even in the bigger department store I went into in Padova, there weren't racks of the same, just in different colours. Every second or third shop is a bar, or a gelateria, or a food shop of some sort. The variety of food is also amazing – the flavours of ice cream is extensive. The cake shops – chocolate, meringues, tarts, biscuits – so much to choose from – and I am very wisely resisting the temptation.
I really enjoyed my stroll back to the hotel – it took about an hour to slowly make my way back – looking in lots of shops as I went. It was very hot and rain was threatening, with a few large drops of rain, but it didn't come to anything. I stopped for a drink in a wee bar close to the hotel, and on my arrival at Hotel Byron I find the lobby full of people and luggage, spilling out onto the street. My goodness what is happening here. Fifty something tourists from Utah have invaded the place and are trying to sort themselves into their rooms, but they have taken over the whole place, the tiny little elevator and getting through to the reception desk to get my key (for my new room on the 4th floor) and then to try and get the elevator was a real mission. In the end I chose to walk up the stairs – phew, now for a shower and a nanna nap. I am getting used to this afternoon rest – hope I am not going to need them when I get back to work.
After my rest I decided I should try and book an hotel room in Perugia for tomorrow night and so go on-line to do this. And a chose a funky looking hotel called Etruscan Chocohotel. Do a google search for it and see where I am going to be staying. It is a chocoholics paradise. I check out the trains to Perugia and think I might rock on up to Florencetown in the morning and do the cycle tour through the city before I leave, and I decide to head out to the piazza now and take a ride in one of the horse and carts I saw last night. So I get myself spruced up for an evening stroll and head downstairs and hand in my key at reception. I am then grabbed by the lady at the desk, who tells me she has been waiting for me to come downstairs, and takes me by the arm and leads me through to the lounge, where she offers me food and a drink of bubbles and tells me she wants to hear all about my day with the chef. She had not booked anybody on this tour before so wanted to know all about it. It turns out that she in fact owns the hotel.
We talk and eat and drink for ages, she is just such an absolute delight, so friendly, so interesting and again speaks such good English. She wants to hear about the rest of my holiday and is amazed to hear that I am cycling around all on my own. We talk about our families and other travels (she goes to London and America frequently and in fact was in London at the same time I was). She tells me that she has a large group from Utah at this time every year, and that Florence is very busy this week particularly because there is a big Fashion Fair on where all the designers and buyers from the big European fashion houses are in town. We are joined by a delightful young couple and she tells them all about my cycling and the young girl asks politely if she could ask my age – I tell her and she claps her hand over her mouth and says how incredible that is for me to be doing this. (Actually Giovanni said the same thing this morning). The couple leave, they are going to the fashion fair - she is beautiful (dark curly hair, immaculate makeup, beautiful jewelled dangly earrings and a stunning outfit – black flowing pants in a very soft chiffon type material (but not see-through) gathered in at the ankles, giving them a look almost of harem pants but much more flattering; high heel shoes, a very wide belt worn over the hips and a strapless top. She looks stunning.
The hotel owner then asks me what I am to do tomorrow and I tell her I will catch the train to Perugia. She tells me that this is not as easy as a train from here to Roma. I will have to change and so she takes me to her desk and looks up on Google (whatever did we do before google) and prints out the details. I have to go to a different train station (so much for getting an hotel near the station) and it will be better to get a cab as it will be difficult with my suitcase to get on the bus. She tells me to go two doors down and buy the train ticket from her friend at the travel shop, and then she asks about a hotel. I tell her I have made a booking this time, I was not going to make the mistake of arriving in a town without one like I did when I arrived in Florence. I told her about the chocohotel and she said “surely not” she looked it up on google and when she saw the picture of the room with the basket of chocolate on the bed she said “Oh Jesus” and each page she looked at she said “Oh Jesus” again. By now she was wanting to come with me. She asked me to let her know what it is like as she had never heard of it before and would like to know so she may recommend other guests if they are looking for an hotel in Perugia.
By now it is getting late and she is needing to get away home, so off she goes. It is starting to get dark now, so I opt just to go across the road for an ice cream and a soft drink – have aborted the plan for the horse and cart ride – will have to do that another time. I seriously hope to return to Florence in the future, it is beautiful, it is friendly, it is bustling but not unpleasantly so.
When I get to the gelateria I choose instead an apple tart and an espresso and sit for a while just enjoying being out amongst the locals. Its 10pm and I don't feel scared or lonely at all. There are so many people about and I am, after-all, just across the road from my hotel.
Then it is back to my room on the 4th floor. There is a little ladder to climb up to open the window, but all you can see is roof tops. I open the window in the bathroom and look the other way, and again only roof tops, but with that window open I can smell the aroma of the city – food smells lingering in the hot heavy air. It is still very hot and I have another cool shower before shutting down for the night.
And sadly, that is it for Florence. The hotel owner suggests catching the 12.13 train from Campo di Marte train station and that I let the Estruscan know when I am arriving so that they will meet me at the station. She tells me it is 46km from Perugia (but I have checked again and it looks to me like only 1.5km from the station – let's see which one of us is right.
Oh darn there go those church bells again, what is the time? Wow it is 7.14am I had better close now, post this and get my shower and get down to breakfast before those 50 Americans.
Ciao for another day
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