This lunchtime we went across to Frascati - yes the same as those bottles of stuff in your local Tesco/Waitrose/any wine retailer you name.It is twinned with Windsor and Maidenhead a noted British wine region! But to be honest it was very peaceful and quiet. We had a nice lunch (Insalate Caprese if you must know) at a cafe full of Italians, some of whom were clearly friends of the owner and were helping him "roadtest" some new wine and grappa! The rest of the town is fairly insignificant unless you like Baroque churches and the religious art that goes with them. But it was an American free zone so can't be bad.
We moved on to Rocca di Pappa which was quite small and on a clear day - it was just too murky today - would have great views from 800 metres up across Rome. Finally we headed home via Castelgandolfo and the Appian Way. The former was full of cops - at least three different varieties , local, national and the Carabinieri complete with very public automatic weapons. Maybe Il Pappa was at his holiday home which would be the big place surrounded by high walls topped with spikes!
But going there and back meant driving on the GRA or Rome's version of the M25. But with Roman drivers or should that be roaming drivers. Clearly all the overhead gantry signs asking for patience might as well be turned off. The hard shoulder is not for breakdowns here - its is for scooters and motorcycles to undertake and for the real motorists to show that they can do that too. I suspect most F1 drivers would think it was all a little mad. Its not that fast but the sheer unpredictability that scares me. I watched a new Fiat 500 Abarth pass me( I'm middle of 3 lanes), cut in and then undertake the guy in the outside lane cut back in front of him only to realise he is at his junction so just cut back across 3 lanes of traffic run across the chevrons into his slip road and was last seen undertaking the traffic on the slip road on the hard shoulder all without a single brakelight coming on.
Oh well tonight I need to find a way to follow the Liverpool/Fiorentina game - at 300Kms its a bit far and the only tickets you could buy from Fiorentina were for home fans - and then head on to Livorno for a couple of weeks of Tuscany visiting and letting our snail mail catch up. Don't know if the wifi is as good as here so if I disappear don't worry -as if
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
A quiet life
Today we did nothing! But clean and wash as the last two sites lacked either the power or the facilities (washing machines). But I did find someone who can supply a new part for our awning which will be good for my temper but stop me developing muscles like Superman in my arms !!
We continue to fascinate our Italian/German neighbours who walk around and pass comments - not realising we understand both languages. I shall hang for the next German who calls our "Winnie" a bus.
The Italians are fascinated by Max and keep coming up to say he is "bella". I suspect they think we are "eccentric English".
Mind you the receptionist has been to Skem - she had a boyfriend there!
We continue to fascinate our Italian/German neighbours who walk around and pass comments - not realising we understand both languages. I shall hang for the next German who calls our "Winnie" a bus.
The Italians are fascinated by Max and keep coming up to say he is "bella". I suspect they think we are "eccentric English".
Mind you the receptionist has been to Skem - she had a boyfriend there!
See Naples and die!!
Well we left Sorrento yesterday and it was sunny. That in itself was something of a surprise as the weather has been as they say on British weather forecasts "mixed".
But our stay in Sorrento was not uneventful. We fled there from Pompeii and an attack by a plague of ants, which are one of Lynda's pet hates. We picked the site described by the Caravan Club guide as the "best to avoid the crowded roads". That was no understatement about the roads. The further south in Italy we have gone the more insane has been the driving. Here the cars with a few exceptions - Porsches and Ferraris - all look like they have been in some kind of demolition derby. Scrapes, dinges, broken mirrors bent and broken bumpers are all common. But then its not surprising. Backing into (well almost into) parking bays across two lines of traffic whilst the deranged riders of scooters and motorcycles pass on all four sides seem to be a local hobby. But the road around the "Sorrentine peninsula" is really for mad men as it is narrow with little room for error or you hit the wall/crash barrier/cliff face or double parked(abandoned?) car with its hazard lights on. And then you meet a coach coming the other way as he swings around the bend - on your side whilst a scooter squeezes between you both with his head on one side talking into the telefonino(mobile) stuffed into his helmet.
In the Fiat driving around the Amalfi side it was a bit better if only because the Fiat is small but of course I am foreign so must be passed by every Italian worth his blue shirt. All very nice but it does have the problem of being inundated with tourists.
Sorrento is a bit like the Costas but with Italian food - sfogliatella al limone are worth the trip alone. However with bars offering English football, a menu from Monty Python consisting of unlimited variations of eggs, bacon, chips, beans, toast and tea and an assumption if you are English you can't speak Italian its not my favourite place. Add cruise ships full of American tourists whose ignorance/arrogance or both is breathtaking and I could kill. Hearing two American ladies discussing what they had seen in Rome with the puchline "They've got so much history in Europe" makes me want to scream. And Capri is worse - it boasts over 3m visitors on an island on some 10 square kilometres. The Blus Grotto is frankly a rip off with 5 minutes laid back in a rowing boat for 10 euros plus if you catch the boat from the harbour another 11 euros. The bus ride is better and cheaper but as the bus fills the road (and its only a mini bus) it is not for the nervous.
And the fly tipping which is everywhere is horrendous. The local council has a complicated recycling scheme for just about everything but the locals seem to ignore it and just dump bags of rubbish, mattresses etc at every lay by, back street, country lane.
Still finally we were away - after I'd spent 24 hours being violently ill from something I ate and another 24 hours drinking bottled water and Lynda nursing a bruised elbow when she stepped back to avoid a bus pulling into a stop on the harbour when we came back from Capri and slipped. Then the locals were great offering to get a ambulance, getting a load of ice from a local shop to press on the bruise and the local policeman going off to tell the bus driver what he thought of him after making sure we were alright.
Out of Sorrento on Sunday morning after a last shower in the most public showers I've used since school in the 1960's - i.e. no privacy and no locks on the toilets either. The road out was quieter but still offered an interesting experience but simpler than getting in. On so to the Autostrada. All was well until we needed to stop for diesel. As they advertise comparative prices for the service station I went for the cheapest - but so did everybody else. Then to make it worse the operators had decided to rebuild the forecourt. This produced long and convoluted queues which are not Italian drivers strong suit. Of course this large foreign registered unit is fair game to be cut up by everyone. So a man driving a white Mercedes taxi sees the car in front of move forward and having got fed up with his queue pulls across the front of us. There is load bang at this point. I get out as does he but although he's close he hasn't hit us.Instead people are pointing at the cabinet cover on the "Winnie" where the electric cable is stored which is open and "smoking". But when I look no black cable or signs of a short just a clouad of dust. Its the ant powder from Pompeii - it must have got hot and "exploded". Oh well another lesson learned - that fine ant powder, hot weather and a confined space dont mix well.
At this point enter the Italian lorry driver. We apparently are blocking his way through - well along with several vehicles in front of me but he starts honking and beeping and waving madly as if we are the problem. I did consider driving over the Renault in front of me to be helpful but could not get a run at it. At some point Lynda has had enough of this. She got out and I thought said something to him. She did - sort off. Next thing is she sits back in her seat and the lorry driver is at the window expressing his displeasure at her reaction - but my range of Italian swear words is not good enough to translate but the gist is he did not appreciate the gesture she made! He felt she had disrespected him. When I get to the pump he pulls past and goes to the lorry park. He passes muttering as I fill up and drive away.
Still we made Fiano Romano without a "Duel" style ride up the autostrada.
But our stay in Sorrento was not uneventful. We fled there from Pompeii and an attack by a plague of ants, which are one of Lynda's pet hates. We picked the site described by the Caravan Club guide as the "best to avoid the crowded roads". That was no understatement about the roads. The further south in Italy we have gone the more insane has been the driving. Here the cars with a few exceptions - Porsches and Ferraris - all look like they have been in some kind of demolition derby. Scrapes, dinges, broken mirrors bent and broken bumpers are all common. But then its not surprising. Backing into (well almost into) parking bays across two lines of traffic whilst the deranged riders of scooters and motorcycles pass on all four sides seem to be a local hobby. But the road around the "Sorrentine peninsula" is really for mad men as it is narrow with little room for error or you hit the wall/crash barrier/cliff face or double parked(abandoned?) car with its hazard lights on. And then you meet a coach coming the other way as he swings around the bend - on your side whilst a scooter squeezes between you both with his head on one side talking into the telefonino(mobile) stuffed into his helmet.
In the Fiat driving around the Amalfi side it was a bit better if only because the Fiat is small but of course I am foreign so must be passed by every Italian worth his blue shirt. All very nice but it does have the problem of being inundated with tourists.
Sorrento is a bit like the Costas but with Italian food - sfogliatella al limone are worth the trip alone. However with bars offering English football, a menu from Monty Python consisting of unlimited variations of eggs, bacon, chips, beans, toast and tea and an assumption if you are English you can't speak Italian its not my favourite place. Add cruise ships full of American tourists whose ignorance/arrogance or both is breathtaking and I could kill. Hearing two American ladies discussing what they had seen in Rome with the puchline "They've got so much history in Europe" makes me want to scream. And Capri is worse - it boasts over 3m visitors on an island on some 10 square kilometres. The Blus Grotto is frankly a rip off with 5 minutes laid back in a rowing boat for 10 euros plus if you catch the boat from the harbour another 11 euros. The bus ride is better and cheaper but as the bus fills the road (and its only a mini bus) it is not for the nervous.
And the fly tipping which is everywhere is horrendous. The local council has a complicated recycling scheme for just about everything but the locals seem to ignore it and just dump bags of rubbish, mattresses etc at every lay by, back street, country lane.
Still finally we were away - after I'd spent 24 hours being violently ill from something I ate and another 24 hours drinking bottled water and Lynda nursing a bruised elbow when she stepped back to avoid a bus pulling into a stop on the harbour when we came back from Capri and slipped. Then the locals were great offering to get a ambulance, getting a load of ice from a local shop to press on the bruise and the local policeman going off to tell the bus driver what he thought of him after making sure we were alright.
Out of Sorrento on Sunday morning after a last shower in the most public showers I've used since school in the 1960's - i.e. no privacy and no locks on the toilets either. The road out was quieter but still offered an interesting experience but simpler than getting in. On so to the Autostrada. All was well until we needed to stop for diesel. As they advertise comparative prices for the service station I went for the cheapest - but so did everybody else. Then to make it worse the operators had decided to rebuild the forecourt. This produced long and convoluted queues which are not Italian drivers strong suit. Of course this large foreign registered unit is fair game to be cut up by everyone. So a man driving a white Mercedes taxi sees the car in front of move forward and having got fed up with his queue pulls across the front of us. There is load bang at this point. I get out as does he but although he's close he hasn't hit us.Instead people are pointing at the cabinet cover on the "Winnie" where the electric cable is stored which is open and "smoking". But when I look no black cable or signs of a short just a clouad of dust. Its the ant powder from Pompeii - it must have got hot and "exploded". Oh well another lesson learned - that fine ant powder, hot weather and a confined space dont mix well.
At this point enter the Italian lorry driver. We apparently are blocking his way through - well along with several vehicles in front of me but he starts honking and beeping and waving madly as if we are the problem. I did consider driving over the Renault in front of me to be helpful but could not get a run at it. At some point Lynda has had enough of this. She got out and I thought said something to him. She did - sort off. Next thing is she sits back in her seat and the lorry driver is at the window expressing his displeasure at her reaction - but my range of Italian swear words is not good enough to translate but the gist is he did not appreciate the gesture she made! He felt she had disrespected him. When I get to the pump he pulls past and goes to the lorry park. He passes muttering as I fill up and drive away.
Still we made Fiano Romano without a "Duel" style ride up the autostrada.
Summary
This blog is going to be a sort of electronic journal of our travels this winter. No real logic to starting now except that we are at the southern point of our Italian sojourn and I thought I would try to be good about recording our adventures and misadventures.
We is me Lynda and Max, our black cat "on a string" and we move around in a Winnebago Brave 25 feet long towing a Fiat Seicento on a trailer.
We is me Lynda and Max, our black cat "on a string" and we move around in a Winnebago Brave 25 feet long towing a Fiat Seicento on a trailer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)