Week 4

Day 22 – Friday 30^th March 2018

Had a lie in! This is real progress because most mornings I am awake at 5am just like when I was forced to work for a living.

Had a quiet morning after all the walking around Siena yesterday; read my kindle in the sun while Cfor skipped in and out of the van.

Went for a ride on Zippy to try to get to the village we can see from our campsite but I’m blowed if I can find the road to it. I then decided I’d have a go at walking to it through the fields of olive trees & vines that separate us but had no luck there either.

Julie has started her drawing today. I told her by all means date them but not to sign them as she could be locked up for less.

Day 23 – Saturday 31^st March 2018

Had another lie in, magic but woke to rain. It’s not supposed to rain on Tom’s retirement! Luckily it brightened up before lunch so after my soup I went for a walk in the countryside.

Tomorrow we are heading back up north. I wanted to stop in Pisa and go take a look at the Leaning Tower. On the way here we passed a large car & coach park near Pisa town centre. I punched the coordinates into Doris but she says there is no way to get there without going through a ZTL (Zona a traffico limitato). How the fuck can a car & coach park be in or surrounded by a ZTL? But Doris is adamant though.

ZTLs  are the Italian version of our parking tickets, a tax on cars drivers. The locals all have passes so the only victims are tourists. I have already been through at least one ZTL and I wouldn’t be surprised if I had been through more.

So I thought we’d head for Camping Paradiso as it is now open. but Doris says the only way to get there without going through a ZTL is by using a motorway. Fuck.

Day 24 – Sunday 1^st April 2018

Big thunderstorm during the night but woke to clear skies and no wind. Set off before 9am for Camping Paradiso. Motorways were just as bumpy going north as they had been coming south but we made good time. Passing around Pisa we even saw the top of the  leaning tower of Pisa from about a mile away.

At Camping Paradiso reception they pointed to our pitch on a map and I went to inspect it. It was tight but doable. Julie got out to guide me in and we were slowly getting there when some bloke in a Porsche beeped me; these Italians are so impatient. I ignored the beeping and carried on and then he beeped me again. I’d had enough of this clown, reversing Nelly into a tight space is hard enough at the best of times without some Italian wanker beeping his horn.

I don’t speak too much Italian and Italians don’t speak much English but I figured delivered with enough gusto he’d understand something simple like “Shut the fuck up with the horn while I reverse my van or I’ll stick it up your arse.” Only he wasn’t beeping to get past me; he was beeping to warn me I was clipping the roof of one of the campsite’s cabins! Opps.

Obviously this stressed Julie out. Thankfully a couple of Italians in grey trackies appeared and they guided me into the pitch. I had a look at the damage, I’d just creased the plastic fascia of the roof.

I gestured to the two Italians in trackies to keep quiet and I went to the reception to show them my passport. I wasn’t going to mention the fascia but who was stood behind the counter… the bloke with the Porsche and he seemed to be the boss. I think he might add a roof surcharge to our bill.

Before lunch I had a wander down to the beach and almost into town. That was my 15,000 steps for the day.

Julie is now stressed; she thinks Nelly is just too big. I have to admit in Italy Nelly is too big. The Italians don’t do much very well. They can cook pasta and they make a mean pizza but they can’t do much else; the roads are chronic and the campsites are cramped. Italy is very definitely not France and I don’t think we’ll ever bring Nelly back here.

Pisa tomorrow and I hope that will put a smile on Julie’s face.

Day 25 – Monday 2^nd April 2018

Well the walk to the train station didn’t put a smile on Julie’s face. I don’t know what Google was playing at sending us to an old closed down station but we eventually made it to Pisa.

Pisa has a largish old town and for an Italian city the traffic is remarkably quiet. No doubt the ZTL has something to do with that.

We knew we’d made it to the tower when we came across a street filled with stalls selling tat.

Julie bought yet another key ring.

The Piazza del Duomo where the tower is was pretty much chock-a-block and it’s no surprise as the leaning tower itself is absolutely stunning.

The piazza also contains the Cathedral di San Maria & the Battistero di Giovanni.

There are a few other old buildings in the city but frankly I’m suffering a little renaissance overload and it was a baking hot day. When we got back to Nelly we both had a little snooze;, you have to get your priorities right in your retirement.

Day 26 – 3^rd April 2018

Up early to grey skies and on the road early heading for La Spezia. Doris behaved herself on the route and even though I know she knows her way to the parking at La Spezia I was still a little nervous pulling into town. In an 8m motorhome you are never more than one wrong turn away from big trouble in Italy.

Parked up in our old spot. My back is killing me; it’s okay when I lie down and when I walk but sitting is painful. That’s not great news when we are at least a 10 hour drive away from Antibes.

Walked to my favourite bakery and bought myself a slice of pizza while I considered the options for the next leg of getting back to France (civilisation).

I am not going on the toll road back to France . The weather forecast is breezy. Breezy on the SS1 is okay. On a bridge 200ft up crossing a ravine on narrow-laned Italian toll road rammed with lorries is a fuckin’ nightmare in Nelly.

The SS1 to France largely follows the coast and there are not too many places to park up off the road for the night between here and France – the harbourside car park at Sanremo is our best bet but that is at least a 7 hour drive.

I’m not going to park up at the side of the SS1 as we’d be unlikely to have a good night’s kip.

After much umming and ahhing and studying the satellite view on Google Maps Sanremo it is. About a 7½ hour journey round torturous bends and potholes of the SS1. What fun.

Day 27 – 4^th April 2018

It rained all night and doesn’t look like stopping anytime soon. Decided we might as well get on our way to Sanremo.

How could I have forgotten the SS1 goes up into the mountains on the way to Genoa! We were soon climbing and soon in cloud, thick cloud; at times I couldn’t see more than 10yds ahead and it took us 4 hours to do the 70 miles to Genoa. Doris tried to send us down to a couple of dirt tracks but I refused to leave the SS1.

Genoa was a nightmare again but at least we managed to take no wrong turns this time. North of Genoa the SS1 gets really twisty around the coast and very congested through the little towns. The scooters darting about add an extra dimension to the chaos as does the double parking which it seems to be a national pastime.

We parked up at the harbourside parking in Sanremo about 6:30pm, 9½ hours of driving. First thing I did was get some pizza in and open a cold beer.

14 miles from France Sanremo is a beautiful town but it is not really very Italian it is more French with its splendid well maintained buildings and the well manicured streets.

Day 28 – 5^th April 2018

 Up with the lark bright and early; a beautiful morning.

For my walk this morning I was in search of Sanremo’s most famous English resident Edward Lear who lived here and died here and is buried in the local cemetery.

When I got back to the van Julie was walking back from the beach so the pair of us went for a walk around the town.

Eventually it was time to head back to Antibes. The roads were completely stupid with traffic for the 14 miles back to France but eventually we neared civilisation.

At the border the guard wanted to check the van for immigrants which wasn’t very Schengen but I guess no matter what the Remainers try to tell us all is not completely rosy in the EU these days.

The first town in France is Menton and the old town is stunningly beautiful. Spotlessly clean too. They have a Citrus festival in February. If you are looking for a weekend of spring sunshine Menton should be on your list.

We took the A8 toll motorway from Menton to Antibes. At one of the Péage stations all the lanes that took cards or cash had 2m height barriers so I had to go in the Télépéage lane only I don’t have Télépéage tag. Brilliant.

There was a red button next to a speaker grill so I pressed it and eventually a French woman answered. I explained the situation and she asked me for my credit card number. I reeled off the number but much to Julie’s amusement the woman couldn’t understand my accent. I guess all those years living in Surrey has left with an accent far too posh for most foreigners to understand. She kept saying “What is the whoa whoa three?” Sigh. It’s not whoa whoa three love, it’s one one three, une une trois, un un trios!

Made it safely back to Camping Vieille Ferme near Antibes and it’s absolutely baking hot. I think we are going to be here for a while while we recover from Italy.

When the day got cooler I went for a ride on Zippy to practice all the scooter moves I saw in Italy but you know when you are on the wrong side of the road overtaking a line of traffic you are assuming a few things; that no one you are overtaking and no one coming towards you is texting or playing on their mobile. That’s never a good idea, as I learnt working for NATS,, every big fuck up starts with a simple assumption or two.

While out on my bike ride I stopped on the coast road to look across the bay towards Nice in the distance; absolutely gorgeous and it struck me, I am such a lucky fucker to be here and to be healthy and to have Julie with me.

Tom’s caption competition no: 1

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