Italy continued & ... Hmmmm!

The rough guide waxes lyrically and enthusiastically about the great Italian painters, the historical sites, the museums, the churches etc etc, but nowhere do I find  mention of the sheer joy to be had in simply walking mountainous medieval mule tracks steeply winding their way through the Olive groves between 'Zucarello' by it's rushing river, and the much higher village of 'Vesercio'.

'San Remo' was behind us as we drove Eastwards along the slightly less busy Italian Riviera coastal strip. A wonderful drive but by the time I had reached 'Albenga' I'd had enough of the, 'slightly less busy', the nowhere to park and of marina after marina full of white shiny and jingly mast luxury floating motorhomes nee yachts.

So we hung a left, quickly stopped at 'Freshco' for a warm just baked €1.00 Panini before heading inland for a quiet lunch stopover. That's how we found 'Zucarella' with its large level parking area where no one has bothered us one bit these last two nights.

The village is long, narrow, medieval and occupies one bank of the river while the main road tarmacs its way by on the other. The village is a grid of tiny narrow cobbled streets and stone arches with one steeply leading ever upwards, out of the village to the 'Castello' on a prominent mount where I gazed down almost vertically upon Sadie's roof way below in the car park.

I was delighted with our lunch stop find, our exploration of the village and especially our stiff walk up to the Castello. Delighted as I felt good with no worrying aches or pains from the chesticle area where, as you know I have been having slight concern of late.

The weather was forecast to return to wet and cold again so next day we took advantage of the dry but cloudy day and set off to walk up to the next village 'Vesercio'. To cut a long story short we made it. A three and a half hour circular steep ascent/descent walk. Tanya and I were both pretty exhausted and wet due to the forecasted rain soaking us during our last half hours walking. It was a warm, dry and welcome return to Sadie where once  again I was 'over the moon' delighted with what we had achieved. I do not think in January, as we commenced this years trip, such a walk would have been possible. Back then I got very tired after only short flat walks. Fingers crossed for continuation of good fortune eh:
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Italy .... Hmmmmm!
The Italians themselves are lovely. So friendly and helpful. Maybe they have to be to assist everyone else through 'different, busy and Hmmmm!'

Yesterday I followed Mrs 'Navigator' sat nav (yes, a different lady & very good she is too) to a garage listed as a supplier of GPL gas. One of my cylinders was empty. Mrs sat nav was within one hundred yards of being spot on but it was not a garage as such but a specific GPL filling station. This was located immediately behind another big garage on a side street entered another half a kilometer further on. It is easy for me to say that, now I know; but it took me nearly two hours to find. I kept asking around which is no easy task on the outskirts of 'Genoa', in a large motorhome, where not a soul speaks English. Anyway my frustration, possibly desperation, must have been apparent as finally a kind lady in a little yellow Panda indicated I was to follow her. She took me right to the spot and then drove off with a smile and cheery wave without giving me the time to thank her. Such generosity and helpfulness from her plus all the others who before they launched into copious instructions and directions in rapidly spoken Genoese Italian had shouted to all and sundry, "Heya! Inglesa.Chiunque parlare inglese?" The answer of course was invariably no except for my 'Ave Maria" (big culture here) lady in her yellow Fiat Panda who did know a few English words.

Then the strangest thing. Gas top up was successful and I drove out onto the narrow one way side street to be faced with a low 2.35m bridge sign. This had the potentiality of being a serious problem seeing as Sadie is 3.00m high. I had no alternative but to continue and to my huge relief we sailed under the bridge with plenty of room to spare. Just before the bridge I once again noticed another large prominent 2.35m warning sign affixed to the apex of the bridge arc. I successfully criss-crossed the same railway line and its low bridges twice more before we headed out onto a quiet countryside lane and a safe spot for the night.

A strange, different but rewarding day.
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I'd nearly, very nearly in fact, given up on Italy. The wet dull weather was not helping. Lack of coastal area camp spots plus the ridiculous price wanted by some campsites were all starting to irk me. I've damaged Sadie too. To be fair that is not Italy but rather me playing 4x4 again and getting my come uppance. Thankfully it is not serious, just fibreglass rear skirting split and nudged slightly out of place.

Soooo .... all in all Italy was not turning out to be the best for my strange but particular way of life ..... until today that is. Today has finally yielded an Italy more in keeping with ... 'wot I want'.

'Pisa', complete with leaning tower, warm sunshine and a safe and sensibly priced and located motorhome stopover. Well! Could one ask for more? Bike was very soon out and off we went to join the throngs of tourists (Goodness knows what it must be like in high season) As usual there was no going into the tower or up the Doumo (Cathederal) as doggies are no go. Even so impressive is the correct adjective to use. You also cannot stop that daft little voice in your head from saying, "Gosh it's just like it is in all those pictures".

Meanwhile: watching contorted tourists, mainly of Eastern origin, being photographed holding out their palms to appear as though they are propping the tower up in front of equally contorted and gesticulating camera and mobile phone wielders. Well; such viewing is equal to, if not better than, an expensive tour of the great treasures inside these beautiful buildings paid for by the way, and to quote the tourist blurb; 'the sacking and pillage of Palermo and its immense wealth'.

Weather looks better for the next week. Ok then! I'll stay a little longer.
"C'mon Tan. We'll go do some more Bike exploring in this Tuscan open air rich archeological gem stone of an area".

A pig & Italy.

"TANYA QUICK, COME HERE, MOVE, IT'S A DAMM PIG!! 

A big wild boar type pig it was too. I tell you it was some shock seeing this thing lumbering out from the pitch black of the night behind the wheelie bins and into the dim light of the few and far between street lights. My senses did not immediately register this unrecognisable moving area of blackness as someting dangerous. As my adrenalin kicked in pig had it's head down and was picking up speed towards Tanya who was blithely heading piggy direction thinking this was a new doggy pal.

Thankfully the combination of loud panicky voice along with sight of me sprinting away down the road did the trick and she sensibly joined me in this new game of 'let's run away from big black hairy tusky piggy thing'. Pig ran out into the road but then decided what was behind the wheelie bins offered better prospects than one mere mortal human plus small dog. It stopped, sniffed around a bit and shuffled back into the unlit blackness behind the bins.

"Phew!" I muttered. "That, Tanya my girl, is as close as I want to come to a wild boar thank you very much. I think we'll just head back to Sadie now in case piggy is not alone". 

Note to self; take torch on next 'last Tanya pee before bed' walk!!

We were in my favorite safe, level but totally unlit parking area in 'Port Lligat', former home to the artist Salvador Dali. It is a place I love and know very well and always visit if I am entering or leaving Spain from its North Eastern corner. The 'Cap de Creus' ('Cadaque') area is wild, beautiful and unspoiled but only reachable by tortuous bendy mountain and cliff hugging coastal roads.

Warm and sunny it was too. Unlike the charming and pretty little hilltop village of 'Fox-Amphoux' in the French district of  'Provence' where at present it is wet, dull, misty and distinctly cool. On the way here we visited  'camping La Sousta' at the popular tourist spot of 'Pont du Gard' where, being down to my last shirt, we caught up with laundry etc. Popular spot it may be but wet cold early March equals campsite plus large impressive ancient Roman viaduct empty of tourist and locals alike.
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What a difference a few miles make. We are in Italy now, 'San Remo' to be exact. Sunny warm Italian Riviera. I have just watched from our very pleasant Italian Aire a gigronkus luxury yacht motor by. It is probably going to Monte Carlo, Nice or Cannes. All the marinas both here and on the French side had their due quota of these huge plastic 'I've got loadsa money' status symbols. We have spent the last couple of days negotiating our way through this very built up, busy and rather motorhome unfriendly Riviera coastal strip. I've decided it is not my favorite place but seeing is believing and there is no doubt about it; the area oozes of all that money can buy. Just a wee bit out of my league though. No photo's either. For starters there was never anywhere to park Sadie at the few viewing spots and secondly; Google or You-tube the French Riviera. Pointless pointing my phone/camera when every conceivable Riviera photo is already out there in www.com land.

Bike plus green Tanya bucket came out today and we cycled in the beautiful warm sunshine to 'San Remo' proper where we watched the world go by while enjoying a pleasant fishy lunch at one of the numerous restaurants over looking the Marina. Once again it was yours truly in summer gear of shorts and sandals while everybody else was in full winter gear, and, I have to say, very smart too as one would expect of Italians.

One observation which with all things considered goes with the territory of marina plus large plastic gin palaces. There did seem to be a lot of paunchy men of about my age and much older being accompanied by extremely smart young ladies. S'funny is'nt it. I mean I've got a plastic tub too. OK so it's not full of gin and doesn't have a pointy bit at the front but even so. At least there was one thing that got the attention of these 'young things'. My not so young lady travelling companion Tanya got plenty of fawning attention and admiring glances from these glamorous young fashion icons.

Visiting. Moving North. Trauma.

Well that has been the hottest day so far. Nine pm now and we've just returned from a balmy nocturnal walk. My clock cum tempature gauge tells me it is 22° outside. Snugly.

We are just south of 'Valencia'. A semi suburban beachside area bordering the 'Parc natural de l'abufera' which comprises various large lakes, rice growing paddy fields and lots of wildlife. (like migrating motorhomers .... lol) It has been a very busy Sunday with the Spanish out in force  enjoying this lovely warm day and beachside setting.

There are about twelve motorhomes here all wild parked with not a British number plate to be seen. French and German plus a smattering of Dutch.

I arrived yesterday after having spent the last week up in the hills at Lenny & Win's smallholding near 'Rugat'. They have a lovely villa within a terraced orchard which was eighty five percent complete when purchased last year. Lenny is now thoroughly and enjoyably immersing himself in the remaining projects. He and I walked around the land which comprises about four large curved hillside terraces planted with Plum and Almond trees. There were Rabbits galore running everywhere plus a regular wild pig or two nocturnally visiting and grubbing up the soft and fertile soil. They are besotted with their new home and managing well with solar powered electricity and 'delivered in' water. I helped Lenny with his ingenious system for collecting, filtering and storing rain run off water. As a bonus there is a really good local community and social life mainly comprised of ex pats. A lovely week with good company in a beautiful location.
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There is something very peaceful and deeply satisfying in doing nothing whatsoever except watching and hearing the continual roll of waves smashing into the soft rocky and eroding shallow cliff edge  about thirty yards from where we are parked. The feeling is warm, especially so as there is a warm and furry dog nestled in my arms. Transcendent too as all lights are off allowing the full silvery beauty of the clear strong moonlight illuminated scene to parade before us at Sadie's door.

This is 'Peniscola', to be exact, just south of the town on a coast hugging wild track. It is a popular holiday destination with a very attractive and touristy old town complete with fifteenth century fortifications.  It is North of 'Burriana' where, amid its maze like orange groves we have been for the last couple of days visiting Jurate (one of my brothers carers) and her family. Sergio, her Mexican husband cooked us all a truly wonderful, and not too 'hot hot', Mexican meal last night. A very pleasant evening out where Ricky, their eight month old Chihuaha took quite some time to settle down after having his territory invaded by a stranger with a furry black dog. Emily worked hard with her school taught English trying to persuade me to stay another day. No luck I'm afraid as I am keen now to move North toward France and hopefully Italy. We shall see.

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Poor Tanya was once again in my arms for some TLC after being traumatized. It happened as I was cooking the evening meal. The damm smoke alarm went off. Tanya with a fearful and painful auditory passion hates the loud BEEEP....BEEEP  of the infernal but essential motorhome safety device.

Now timing, when cooking is critical, as I do like my food to be hot when it arrives on my plate. So I was stressed as I frantically flapped a towel around to encourage the offending smoky air to exit via the roof hatch rather than aimlessly wafting around the smoke alarm. A difficult task if, at the same time you are also flipping over nicely browning Tortilla and agitating an onion mushroom and green pepper stir fry. In such a delicately balanced situation the last thing you need is for the very small motorhome foot room space to be invaded by a traumatized dog seeking reassuring leg cuddles. I'm ashamed to admit it but I'm afraid her trauma doubled in intensity as she got serious verbal and foot abuse from me.

All is well that ends well though. She had her moonlight cuddle with plenty of re-assurance and treats and is now fast asleep sprawled in her bed on the turned around drivers seat. She looks to be a happy dog. I guess I'm a well fed doggy owner. It is a beautiful night in a stunning location. Yes, the words peaceful, satisfying and transcendent sum it up well.
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