Saturday 28th September 2024

And so to the weekend.

Though we have already have had a 15 day weekend. But two more days to prepare for work is always good.

Anyway, we really have very little food in the house, other than stinky French cheese, and although it would be nice to live on that, its not the best.

So after coffee, having laid in bed until half seven, we go to Tesco at ten past eight.

Slightly more busy, fewer parking spaces, but we get all what we need, and am back home by nine ready to unpack and have breakfast.

After the pouring rain on Friday, we are treated to a brief reprise of summer, with endless sunshine, light winds, and even butterflies in the garden. A single fresh Comma was spotted at lunchtime, but I didn't have the macro lens ready.

Anyway, I was going to spend the morning mixing the batter for a Christmas cake. Whisking butter and sugar, add eggs, then flour and finally dried fruit and madeira.

What I did forget, however, was the mixed spice. I realise once the tin was filled and decorated with almonds.

Sigh.

Then in the oven for four and a half hours.

In the meantime, Norwich were on the tellybox, away at Derby. Derby hadn't lost at home since February, but along came Norwich.

City won 3-2, though four of the goals shouldn't have stood, but we'll take the win and so move into the top half of the table.

Better, but a long way to go.

And then, one of my favourite things: listening to the commentary and scores updates on Radio 5, while sipping on a huge cuppa and dunking chocolate biccies.

Perfect.

And that was followed by more live footy on the telebox, Wolves v Liverpool, which was very watchable, and with that ending, another day drew to an end, with an air frost outside.

Winter is coming.

Labour woes

Labour has learned little in the nearly three months since the election. In that, it has tried to cos-play Conservative policies, and cutting an area of social benefit.

That they chose winter fuel payments for the elederly is something of a surprise, but as I have argued for a while, all other secotors of the Welfare State have suffered cuts, why not the elderly.

Because they'll freeze in their homes, the Mail and Express shot from banner headlines.

Which is true, and would be fine for them to make such statements if they had reacted the same way in relation to cuts to the disabled, single parents, the sick and so on. Austerity, it is estimated, raised the excess death rate to 20,000 per year, yet neither the Mailor Express said a word.

The Justice system was slased, sashed by 40% in a decade, and courts closed and sold off, and those left in such bad state of repair that manay are perating less than 50% of capacity. The NHS had its budget slashed, and the COVID inquiry heard how austerity made it almost impossible for the NHS to react when COVID hit.

And then there is gifts from party friends nad backers. Politicians and Ministers have been given tickets to events, clothes and trinkets for them and their partners, but again looking at the right wing press you would think that Labour was the only party in Government to have done this.

So, the lesson for the Labour Government is you may as well do things your core support wants, like fair pay for public sector workers, tax the rich, privatise the water industry, bring back freedome of movement for the under 30s, because the right wing press will hate that too, but you will be seen as improving the lot of the lowest 70% of socienty.

Will they lean?

Tory blues

As I said in July, it will be interesting to see what lessons the Conservative and Union Party learnt from their defeat in the General Election.

Since the defeat, there has been a leadership campaign for the party, and it now enters its final stretch, but somehow they messed up the timings and so the party conference happens before the final election, so the Leader over the conference, is Sunak.

Then there is Liz Truss stomping around like the brainless scarecrow she is, undermining party unity and demanding that true conservative policies cannot be encated until the Office for Budget Responsibility is disbanded. She sidetracked that department in her Government's minibudget/financial statement, and it was that that spooked the markets these free-marketers claim to represent.

And understand.

Meanwhile, Robert Jenrick is claiming that to stop the boats the UK needs to leave the UCHR, so playing the old hits, and he is just the man to lead the party and stop said boats, yet something he failed to do during the previous Government.

Kemi Badenoch said in an interview today that maternity pay is too high and when there was none the birth rate was higher. She then denied she said it, despite there being actual recordings of her saying it on Radio 4 this morning, and attacking journalists for reporting on what she actually said.

These policies, are now against public opnion, as in order to win the election to become leader, you have to appea to the elederly party membership, so promise them even harder, more right wing policies. Thus making them even less electable. Seeing Reform as as their main threat to power, rather than say, reality.

Meanwhile, Aleaxander Boris de Piffel Johnson has written a book, a memoir. Not the Shakespeare book he was writing instead of attending COBRA meetings in the run up to COVID, but in the first "exclusive" in the Mail, he said that he had considered invading Netherlands in 2020 to free a consignment of vaccine that the UK had paid for. This almost certainly is a figment of his immagination, but the thought of the UK Armed Forces conducting an operation in a fellow NATO member's borders is ludicrus.

He also said that when in hospital with COVID, he kept himself awake to make sure he wouldn't close his eyes and never wake up. ER nurses have laughed at this, as if you were that ill with COVID, there is no way that could happen.

And finally in todays installment, he back-handily admitted that he failed to read his red boxes regarding an accident on a British Navy aircraft carrier, whereas the late Queen did read them and so it was news to Johnson when the Queen quizzed him on the incident.

Friday 27th September 2024

Of course, after a vacation, comes the chores.

Shopping. Picking up the cats. Washing.

But we are home.

And picking up the cats is very much a good thing.

There was lots of things we wanted to do, but the weather would have a say on that.

After coffee, Jools went to Lydden to collect the cats after she went swimming, leaving me at home, to put the last of stuff away and so we have a tidy house once more.

Yes, there has been change in weather since leaving Cannes, as you would expect.

Rain, and lots of it, with cold driving wind too. That began just before Jools came back with the cats, so I get soaked going out to help get them out of the car and releasing them back free once again.

They had been away 15 nights, which is about as long as they have been in a cattery, so once back, the meowed, all meowed, even Poppy, a lot.

They had been well fed and looked after, and yet they were demanding more of both. We gave them attention, but told them they would have to wait until four for tea.

Meow, they said.

And outside the rain hammered down, so we put the heating on after closing all windows.

In two days we have gone from being where it was too humid to sleep to now needing blankets.

I wrote and edited shots through the afternoon, and just before dinner, I got some amazing news, which if you want to know, you'll have to seek out my blog.

But this called called for a celebration, so got one of the beers I bought in Calais, 12.5%. I have had weaker wines!

In my defence I will says I didn't drink the whole bottle, and that might explain my poor performance in the music quiz.

I watched football, drank silly strong beer, and snacked.

A fine evening all round.

In surprising news

No, really.

Since the end of April, my relationship with my boss has deteriorated to the point I had a small stress-related breakdown in August, and at the beginning of September I formally requested a transfer to another department.

That request was not acted upon, instead a meeting was called with my manager and I, along with two folks from HR. In the meeting my manager accused me of insubordination. When in fact I was following our internal processes and ISO 19011 requirements.

I asked for a retraction or that the accusation be placed on my permanent record, so that I could formally challenge it.

That was not done either.

So, my plan up to this point has been to get to the end of each day, each week, thus getting nearer retirement.

Then it was getting to the start of the vacation to Tuscany.

However, time was running out, I am back at work on MOnday, and hostilities were to be resumed.

I thought I would have no choice but to resign, and somehow we could muddle through for the missing 11 months of wages before retirement.

Not that I am the only one in the department who has issues with the manager, we are all looking at transfers, or resigning, although in meetings with HR the manager refused to accept this and was all down to me reacting badly to critism.

Well.

Last night just before six, my work phone updated its OS, and when it came back there was a notification rgarding a meeting for Monday entitled Changes in Audit Department.

To say I was interested would be an understatement.

THe Manager is leaving at the end of work on Monday, no news on why as yet. But this news came as a shock, a good shock mind.

So, back to work on Monday with a spring in my step rather than with clouds of doom and gloom over my head.

Thursday 26th September 2024

Henry II built the keep at Dover Castle, and it was the same King that crawled in rough cloth from Westgate to Canterbury Cathedral in penitence as a result of the murder of Thomas Becket.

With such local links to events and structures, I wondered where is was buried.

And that turned out to be France.

At Fontevraud Abbey. And that is why we stayed and ate in caves the night before, so that we would be a ten minute drive from the Abbey.

Dawn broke and the overnight rain had stopped. Sorry, paused, we had showers, got dressed and went to breakfast at half eight to find all other guests were arriving or eating.

A fine spread of local produce had been provided, and so we ate and drank well.

That done we loaded the car, settled the bill for local taxes, and drove to the Abbey, by which time it was raining again, and would only get heavier.

So much so that by the time we reached the Abbey and parked the car, it was hammering down.

We put on coats and sheltered under an umbrella as we hurried to the entrance, to find, as expected, chaos.

However, 90% of those hoards were on tours and waiting for their guides to collect them, we went to the front of the queue, though in reality there wasn't one, paid and the guy let us in through the outdoor.

We walked quickly down the slope to the entrance of the cathedral, to find just one group in the building, and very few others.

The Abbey is very plain, with four tombs laying at the Nave end of the Chancel, no other furniture, pews or seats.

The tombs are for two kings and their wives, Henry II and Richard I, aka Richard the Lionheart. History made real if I'm hones.

I took shots, then to the tombs, took those, and snap a few details, and I was done, and we were walking back to the car at quarter to eleven, the rain finally having stopped.

We programmed the sat nav for home, and it told us we had 387 miles to go.

We drove back through the town square, down to the main road, and re-crossed the Loire, heading to the autoroute.

The sides of the road have been lined with Verbascums and Common Toadflax since we left Roccastrada, and this continued as we headed north into Britanny.

Rain fell again, and as the road threatened to flood, I slowed down and we made our way at a slower, but safer speed.

We Drove to Le Mans, by which time the rain had stopped, and I could put the hammer down, and really begin to eat the miles up. I mean going away is always wonderful, but its still great to come home, and we both wanted to be home now.

The hours slipped by, and the road just went on, but at least mostly empty, so it was stress free driving.

And then we got to Rouen. On the road to Rouen. Ahem.

At Rouen, to get to the Channel ports, you have to turn off the autoroute and go through, if not the centre of the city, then the industrial heart, on narrower roads than is healthy, mixing it with lorries and trucks.

It is here we cross the Seine, and turn onto an autoroute again, passing through a long tunnel then out into the countryside, one the last long leg home.

The forecasted clouds built, as did the winds, though little rain fell.

And just before five, we saw the coast, though the White Cliffs were hidden in mist and rain, we knew it was there.

One last call at Calais Vin for fizz and Belgian beer, then next door for some stinky cheese and finally to the boulangerie for some traditional bread to go with wine and cheese.

We were set.

Its just two junctions back to the tunnel, we checked in and were allowed to take an earlier train free.

A half hour wait to six, then onto the train, wait until loading was complete, and after the announcements, it slid out and went under the sea.

Back to Blighty.

Off the train and instead of going on the M20 north, we take the little used off ramp to the A20, then turn back towards Folkestone and Dover.

And home.

Not sure what time we got back, but we unloaded the car, put on the kettle and had a brew.

The first load of washing was put in the machine, I cut a loaf of bread and poured wine.

We let out a big sigh,

We were home.

In 14 days, we had done 2,952 miles, with the leg on the first day being the longest in distance at 508 miles, but the next day with the two Alpine passes we drove for just about 11 hours for 496 miles.

No wonder we were glad to arrive in Tuscany.

Five years

We all have different relations with our parents, and especiallyour Mothers. So this is just mypoint of view.

Yesterday was the 26th September, five years snce Mum passed away.

Of course we talked about her in the car as we drove, but the question Jools asked is has my life changed.

If it has, then only for the better.

This trip showed we have disposable income to throw around, buy expensive bottles of wine, eat out and not think of the cost. We know we're lucky. And that and the rest of our life is only possible because the residue of Mum's estate paid of our mortgage.

Do Iwish she died still?

No. Not all all. But she chose to live her life the way she did, as was her right, but that came with a cost in the end.

As did not moving out of the family home into sheltered housing or care. She had one last chance, in JUly 2019, but delared herself cured of all ailments, so there was no need.

Two months later she was gone.

Her cleaner, Sheila, who has cleaned for many old ladies like Mum saw the signs and knew the end was near. I thought Mum was made of stronger genes, but it seems those kept her alive as long as she did.

The care package provided when she left hospital, and their instructions not to go to the toilet on her own meant she moved even less than before her bypass, when the surgeon told us the operation had the possibility to transform her life.

All the promises from Mum regarding change and not smoking, were broken, as they always were. She died, where she wanted to be, in the house she and Dad bought in 1964. Other than to going to hospital, she had not been out of the house for two years, a willing prisoner.

Wednesday 25th September 2024

All good things come to an end, and it was time to push further north and closer to home.

Staying in such an ancient building, but then they all have apart from the Ibis is Cannes, is a real honour.

They had put in a good modern shower, so we freshened up got dressed and went down for breakfast.

Rolls, pain au chocolate, yogurt and coffee was the order of the day, and travellers with a long way to go need to fill up before the off.

I walked our bags to the car, snapping the village cemetery on the way, loaded the car and we were ready.

Back down the gorge, past the Devil's Bridge and to the autoroute north, for our next destination: Milleau Viaduct.

We knew the road would climb, to nictitate the bridge being so tall, and indeed the autoroute climbed to nearly 4,000 feet again as ascended the Massif Central.

The landscape opened out, and the high plains are farmed, and looked like anything you'd see at sea level.

Then the bad news, roadworks on the bridge meant the resting place was out of bounds, and anyway, as we approached, most of the bridge was shrouded in fog.

Jools took shots as we went over, pushing on, as we still had six hours to travel.

The Massif continued for over an hour, the road reaching its highest peak, then dropping for over 10Km at 6%, was heavy on them brakes.

Through the day we travelled through or near: Issoire, Clermont-Ferrand, Bourges, Vierzon, all the time, slowly, the countryside and climate was turning more north European. Blue skies faded, clouds replaced them, and in the final 90 minutes, heavy rain began.

We turned off the autoroute at Tours, headed along the Loire, where I had booked us into a nice looking hotel, I based my choice on a fine indoor pool for Jools.

We crossed the river by a narrow metal bridge, then off the main road to the foot of a cliff. A single track road took us up, through a narrow gap in the rocks and there was the hotel, partially built into the cliff.

I had no idea, and I could claim it was I being clever. But sheer luck.

We parked, and the owner showed us round, insisting, along with me, that Jools sees the pool. She wasn't in the mood.

The pool was in the face of the cliff, about 25m long, and looked glorious.

She was sold, so once back in the room, she found her costume and went for a bob in the cliff.

As it were.

Did the hotel do food?

Non.

But there is a place down the road that does stuffed mushrooms and some kind of stuffed unleavened bread rolls.

Sound good.

He booked us a table for seven, and driving in driving rain, we found the cliff face, walked up the sloping path where the Gastrog was just open.

There was little choice in the menu, you has mushrooms to start, two medium sized ones, either with local cheese of "black" sausage. We both had one of each.

Followed by the stuffed breads. I have Toulouse sausage and bean with goosefat stew.

It was simple, but glorious.

And ended with lemon cake and ice cream with a coffee.

Amazing, simple, local food, served with panache. In a cave.

Back to the hotel to nurse our insect bites and try a bottle of the local wine.

We slept well as rain hammered dwon on the tiled roof.

Tuesday 24th September 2024

Jools and I share a lot of history, visiting the same places but at different times. One of those is St Guilham Le Desert and and the nearby caves.

Jools went in 1974 on a school trip, and I went in 1982 when I was advises on a camping trip to avoid sunshine due to prickly heat.

After watching a Rick Stein show on forgotten France, we had the plan to spend a week or two exploring France.

But the best laid plans and all that, so we went to Tuscany instead, but would take four days to come back, visiting St Guilham and the caves, as well as staying the night.

We woke at half six, traffic was already building on the motorway for the trip into Cannes. We stood at the winodw and watched cars try to get by other cars or trucks, then get stuck in lines. It was even worse on the local routes into the town, traffic solid both sides of the road.

We had a shower and got dressed, breakfast was at half eight, but that was fine as we had just a four hour drive ahead. A buffet breakfast, but with coffee, so anything beyond that would be a bonus.

We ate, washed up, packed and went down the two separate lifts to level -2 where the car was, load that up and program in our destination.

Only trouble was, we had to join local traffic for two miles before there was a small on-ramp we could use, so we inched along, and while 90% of traffic went east for Cannes and Italy, we headed west.

We would be heading west for a long time.

A digression:

Bitten to buggary.

On our last three days, various insects feasted on our flesh and blood, so that we were very red and blotchy come Monday. And the more you scratch the more they itch. We put on lotion, made no difference.

So, for the lst three days we have been itching a great deal, so not in good moods either.

Anyway. Back to the drive.

Traffic along the coast was busy, but once the road turned north, it became very pleasant for the most part. Its just the distances involved.

France is much bigger than we Brits realise, and coming back via Montpelier And Nantes would be a two day drive and then have four or more hours come Thursday.

The sat nav kept us on the right road, even if the signs did point to Barcelona for many hours The now-topped Alps had given way now to rusty red mountains, covered in scrub, looking like the wild west, but the motorway weaved its way through valleys and ever westward.

At some point we stopped for supplies, a filled roll and a drink, then back in the car for several more hours.

Finally, we reached Montpelier, and we took the road to Millau, though that visit would have to wait until the next day.

The road climbed, and travelled along roads lined with centuries old Plain Trees, but traffic means there was no time to take a shot, and anyway, we had an appointment.

Just before our destination, a wide and large load had got stuck under a bridge, the two drivers stood and scratched their heads. Someone's head will roll for that.

We came to the bottom of a gorge, this would be our home for the next 18 hours. At the end of the gorge, there is The Devil's Bridge, though in fact there are two, three if you include and old footbridge, and four as i'm pretty sure I saw the buttress of an even older bridge below the footings of the current one.

Looking up the gorge, the river was calm, there has been little rain this summer, so levels are very low, a guys was fishing from a paddle board, and we stood beside the road and looked down.

At two we went to the entrance of Grotte de Clamouse, where we were booked on the half two tour. There was time for a beer before starting.

We both have visited the caves before, Jools 50 years ago, and me 42, so I remember little.

There was about a dozen of us on the tour, with our guide speaking French and English, at first it was easy, but with a humidity of 89% and constant temperature of 16 degrees, C, it wasn't cold, but once we started climbing up through the system, I soon got warm, and the damp tiles meant I was pleased to have brought my walking pole.

I will describe later the things we saw, but I took lots of shots, and they will speak more than I can.

The final climb was up 84 steps, with formations towering over us as we climbed, and music played to add dramatic effect.

Stunning.

What was left was a climb down a long passageway with over 100 steps, back down to the entrance, and then more steps down to the terrace and more down to the road.

My knees were screaming, but I had done it.

We had another swifter of Juplier beer, then drove the 2Km to the village of Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert, where we would be spending the night in a bar.

Off the main road, and up a narrow lane up the valley side, until we reached the overflow car park, and the village was spread out on the other side of a small gorge, now dry.

We found a place to park, then we walked to the hotel on the square, then dropped our bags in the room, before going out to take the air and visit the church before it closed.

Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert is like a fairy tale, made real. Buildings apparently as old as the rocks there are built on, spit by narrow cobbled streets and alleyways.

In the centre of the square are some tables, and the two restaurants use them, so we sat and a waitress brought us a menu. We had the fixed meal: salad, beef bourguignon, bread, crepes to follow and I got us a bottle of local rosé wine.

It was magical, and the food fantastic, and being in the square, we could people watch, and ignore Billy the bulldog who tried to scrounge food of us. And failed.

Time for a wander round the village, before going back to the hotel for a nightcap, and take our tired legs up the wooden hill to bed.

Monday 23rd September 2024

Welcome to La Belle France, and welcome to Cannes. That bit between the sea and land in the distance is Cannes, and the queue of traffic to get there started on the autoroute off ramp. We are in one of its lesser known and cheaper areas, in a hotel that costs €82 a night, with breakfast, and the nice lady on reception made sure we had a sea view rather than the side of the hill the hotel stands on.

We were up at six, had coffee and as much fruit for breakfast as we could stand, then finished packing, before finally taking the cases downstairs to load the car.

We have left a day early as heavy rain was forecast for the area, and all along the coast to the border, so we thought we'd make it into France so to have a shorter drive on Tuesday.

That did mean having to find a place to kip, which I found and booked.

So, off we went.

We cruised down to the autostada, and thanks to the EU road numbering, we were going to follow the E80 all day until the final 3km to the hotel.

We started off in bright sunshine, before it clouded over by the time we go to Pisa, then up the coast near Genoa, the heavens did open.

The E80 has some 200 tunnels between the outskirts of Turin, I know as I counted them. So the drive went from monsoon like rain between the tunnels to calm in the tunnels.

At the main intersection high above Genoa's main railway station, the rain was at its hardest, coming down so hard we could barely see 50m ahead, and so we creeped along, until we went through another tunnel and it cleared some, and we could speed up.

We stopped for lunch of meat filled rolls and a coffee. Did us well, and back onto the road with it climbing, going through tunnels and then the endless repairs causing jams as a lane was closed.

Italy seemed to go on forever, but soon the border was passed, and we came to the prime real estate: Monte Carlo and Cannes.

Nothing of much interest for us there, though the view from the autoroute down into the harbour at Monte Carlo was stunning. I still have no desire to go.

We pressed on, and instead of turning down into Cannes, we turned up into the foothills, into Mougins, and the Ibis Hotel, where we were given a room out front.

But no restaurant in the hotel, so we went out, only to find most places closed all day Mondays, so we ended up at the Stake and Shake burger joint, which although pricy was good eatin. We then had to find a supermarket for supplies for the evening, and this meant mixing it with the rush hour traffic which was horrific.

We arrived safe, bought wine and cider, then back to the hotel never to leave until tomorrow.

Sunday 22nd September 2024

Our last day in Tuscany. Yes, all good things come to an end, though we will be taking our time to get back home with us not getting back to Dover until Friday.

So, it would appear we are all cultured out, we could go to Siena, but couldn't face the crowds to be honest. So, Jools had done some research and found a nature reserve, though we couldn't read the description, there were pictures of deer at least.

So after coffee and breakfast, and before it got too hot, we get off for the far side of Grossetto, but instead of going into the city, we went south, then into the hills, past acres of camping areas until we came to a cemetery.

The road just stopped at a wooden gate, we had seen a car park three KMs back, so wondered if we were even allowed to drive up here, let alone leave our car.

An elderly lady drove up to attend a grave, making us feel worse.

We looked beyond the gate, I chased a Swallowtail but it wouldn't settle, but got a shot of a Long Tailed Blue, before we turned round to the car and headed back to actual roads.

I checked the map, and there was another reserve another half hour south, so we program that in and set off.

Back to the autostrada that had identity issues, and kept switching back to single carriageway roads and back to a motorway.

We took the exit, went under the railway by way of a narrow tunnel, and found ourselves at the end of another dead end road, but with a car park, so we paid €5, and set to explore.

The island, it seemed, was a flying boat base during the war, but all the buildings have been flattened, and amazing to look between the plants our feet to see tiles and brick floors, but no walls.

Butterfly pickings were slim, a few blues and a single Clouded Yellow, which I chased and got shots of.

And best of all, a fox cub was out exploring. I say a cub, more a teenager, but was at ease as we were within 10m of it, but it carried on looking for lizards and worms.

By now, it was midday, hot and we were hungry. We returned to the car, then back to the motorway and back to Roccastrada and the apartment.

We have a lot of food left, so I made a meaty ragu, cooked the second half of the spaghetti, and we shared the bottle of white wine we had left.

It was a mighty plateful, but tasty enough, and probably will do us for the rest of the day, with just cheese and crackers left.

On our last day I found I could listen to the football from Radio 5 on my mobile, so spent the afternoon listening to Citeh v Arse, which ended in a bad-tempered 2-2 draw.

Plenty for both managers to complain about, and they will.

So, now for packing and ready for the six hour drive back into France in the morning.

Saturday 21st September 2024

Sometimes, even when on holiday, you have to plan.

Two or three days back, we tried to visit the nearby county town of Grossetto, only to find that there was no parking, no signs to garages.

So we turned round and did something else.

So, this morning. Up early, have coffee and breakfast and be on the road before nine, and have the address of the large free car park built, as it turned out, in the moat of the city fortifications, built by the Medicis back in the day.

It feels like a summer's day, though in truth it is the equinox and winter is coming.

But for today, it'll be 25 degrees, no wind and summer for us Brits.

Its only a twenty minute blast over the farmland to the autostrada, then eight miles to the turnoff for the centre.

Following the directions from the phone, we ended up on the edge of the fortifications, down a slope and there were like hundreds of free parking spaces.

I pick a space, we park and then walk along the moat and through a caponier into the city, up steep slope, through narrow streets to the main square where the cathedral's bells were ringing for mass at ten.

I look in, lots of singing and chanting, so we found a coffee shop and had a cappuccino and a pistachio filled croissant, though the cream did look like an olive trying to escape. But was good.

Then to the cathedral, just as mass had finished. Lights were being switched off, mics being turned off and moved. The columns and arches were quite Moorish, at least to my eyes, and we know how reliable they are.

There are narrow streets filled with shops, but we want for nothing, really, so after an hour we find ourselves back at the car, so drive back to the apartment for a sit down in the cool inside.

I had spotted lots of butterflies, and so at half twelve, I go out hunting, and was rewarded with three life ticks: Southern White Admiral, Great Banded Grayling and a Two Tailed Pascha feasting on a rotten quince, coming back again and again.

Back inside before I boil over in the heat, and I make spaghetti a limon for lunch, which was followed by second plate of Tuscan sausage butties, which were amazing, needless to say.

Through the afternoon we listened to music and I kept an eye on the football, with Norwich romping away with a win, 4-1, against Watford.

The afternoon passed into evening, we drank some wine, while Emy had friends outside and their laughter filled the air, as the stars came out.

Friday 20th September 2024

The day began with us not knowing what to do, and by midday were on the top of a hill surrounded by stone towers and thousands of tourists.

Welcome to San Gimignano.

Not sure whether the plethora of towers here is the result of penis envy or something similar, or that they great and the good liked to look down on everyone else, and that meant building skyscrapers, long before the term was thought of.

Towers, let us not forget, that erupt from the stone buildings of a hilltop fortress, so are lofty indeed, and you'd need locks of great length for you prince to climb up some of these.

I had not been here before, but suspected it a tourist trap, so we had to leave early in order to get a parking spot. Yes, in the 16 years since we were last here, tourism in Tuscany seems to have gotten really popular, in most cases, more popular than the infrastructure can stand, but still the people keep coming.

Including us.

Tuscan us not large, distances, as the Tuscan crow flies are modest, and yet travelling 50 miles to Florence or San Gimignano takes 90 minutes or more, as roads twist and turn up and down mountains, through woods and picturesque hilltop villages.

Everything takes time, so it had better be worth doing, and doing well.

Some Italians. Some, like to tear around the place like their in Monza even if they're driving a 20 year old Jimny, and when they come up against the Englishman abroad in his Audi, they sit three inches from the back bumper. So I brake. Sharp. And wave them past, usually passing them in the next village talking with their Nonna.

And so it goes.

We set out at half eight-ish, heading up through the hills past Siena and nearly into Florence, up and down, round and round the roads went, and I kept to them.

Which was nice.

West of Florence, we joined the train of traffic heading up the hill to San Gimignano.

At the top there are three car parks, two big ones a smaller on between. The smaller one had 26 spaces, so we went in, and after driving round and round, we found the lower level and some spaces.

So I parked in carefully the space at the end so whoever parked next would have plenty of space, and leave space for us to get back into the car.

That was the plan.

From there it was a short walk to the city gates, and already the main street leading to the piazzas with the towers was already pretty busy.

However, we had made it, it was just after ten, so we stopped at the first place for breakfast: a fresh roll with Tuscan preserved meats and a strong coffee. And then up to the squares. A bit of a climb in the warm, nearly hot morning. But we made it fine, then in the square, the guided tours had begun. I mean, I don't mean to be rude, but if can't guide yourself round a small hilltop village with a book, then you really shouldn't leave your house.

But I digress.

The first square is entered through a large arch, it is surround by impossibly old buildings, most with a tower, double or triple its height, then on and up to the second square, were the Cathedral looks down on not just the town, but all of creation.

Thankfully, its just a fiver to get in. I queue to buy tickets, then through the gates and into the cool dark space beyond.

Its walls are covered in frescoes. The south wall with scenes from the Passion, and the North had at least one scene from Exodus and the fleeing across the Dead Sea.

And it wasn't that crowded, in fact at times there was just half a dozen of us in there. So I take as many shots as I want, and we leave by the front door, the square laid out below us.

So, we people watch.

Jools comes back to say she has found a place to eat, so I follow here down a steep alley to a small door with two chairs and tables, but inside its larger, and no other customers.

We were offered a table, and from the brief menu we order the Charcuterie board which I followed with roast suckling pig and vegetables.

The starter was excellent, made so with a small jar of local honey dropped on the meat, but the main, and I know what suckling pig means, was delicious, and was the house speciality. And washed down with a glass of Brunello for a fiver, was a bargain.

We walked back down through the town, through the gate to the car. Where someone had had parked so close i couldn't get in, and Jools only just managed it.

But we got the car out, loaded it with supplies, and we high-tailed it out, down the hill and back towards Roccastrada.

The same hills, the same bends, the same villages. And the same occasional inpatient local drivers.

We went to the CoOp again, as we needed fruit. Cheese. Bread. Wine. White wine. Pasta. Passata.

Jools went for a wander and bought two more artisan ice creams, which would defrost on the way back to the apartment.

Then we could eat and enjoy. And relax.

Which we did.

It was five in the afternoon, clouds were building. But it was the weekend. Apparently.

At seven (local time) was the quiz, and I won again! Is there no end to my talents?

We had cheese and crackers for supper. And wine. Lots of wine.