Under the Tuscan Sun; the honeymoon, day 3

We awoke after another marathon sleep; something like ten more hours. At this rate we will sleep the honeymoon away. So I made café Americanos again, this time to go with bowls of cereal. I sat down to write up the past two days events and Jools sat on the balcony doing some beading. All in all, not bad for a Monday morning.



Julie said she wanted to see the sea, and so after looking at the map we decided to head to Follonica to see what was there; and if it were a dull industrial town we would drive along the coast until we came to somewhere more to our liking.

The drive down was pleasant enough, the verdant hills of Tuscany giving way to the fertile plains nearer the sea. Sadly Follonica turned out to be a dullish modern town, and as we came to the sign pointing the way south along the coast; we took it.

The road left the coast and threaded its way through wooded valley and up and down the sides of hills. All very pretty, but not what we had came to see. We turned down a road Julie the map-reader realised went to a headland, and if nothing else would give great views of the large bay.
Punta Ala was, sadly, a golf resort; but I won’t hold that against it. Also sadly for us, the road signs were not clear and we could not find a place to eat; or one that was open. We headed back out, and I spied a place right on the beach that boasted pizzas and the suchlike. We pulled in, and wandered about; the bar was staffed by a couple of people reading newspapers. Can we eat here, we asked.

Next door was the reply.


We made it clear, in plain English we wanted to eat, and we chose the best table in the place by two huge picture windows with views across the beach and bay. We had shrimp salad followed, for me buffalo mozzarella with tomatoes and for Julie chicken salad with balsamic vinegar. It was simple enough, but just perfect on a sunny day in late September. We did well considering we don’t speak that much Italian and the staff spoke no English.

We drove back across the plain that the city of Grossetto sits on; all flat reed beds and drainage channels. Before having to enter the city to find our way back into the Tuscan hills. Road signs to Siena came and went, and we drove round in circles heading at the same time towards and away from Rome.

But we did clear the city limits eventually, and head once again into the hills, and the land of the hilltop towns. We decided to drive back in a different direction, and leave the main road behind; we followed the signs to Roccastrada, which is a large hill town on the route back. We had the windy lanes to ourselves, and thrilled with the winding road with views out across the plains.
As with most Italian towns, Roccastrada was closed at half three in the afternoon, but we parked up and set off on foot to explore.



It is a wonderful place, very narrow streets leading ever upwards, with narrow passageways with steep steps leading even higher or lower. We followed signs promising ‘panoramica,' and indeed we found it. Sadly now concreted, a former stronghold had views of the pain we usually cross to get from the main road to the that those living here did not get the benefit of the tourist dollar, but their lives seemed rich enough.



After having sated our lust for photography, we headed back with the promise of more cheesy bread to be eaten on the balcony with views of the setting sun. Dinner was of grilled chicken marinated with olive oil and rosemary picked from outside our front door, and more of the tangy salami from the day before.



Once again the sun did wondrous things as it set, and made the sky like it caught fire. Again.