Today was to be our last full day in Tuscany. About the only aspect we had not covered was the Leaning Tower of Pisa. This wasn’t all that far away, but we were told that this was about the only thing worthwhile in Pisa to see, so we declined the “inclination” to go. In lieu, we would sample the local area once more. 

Besides in these days of being politically correct, I didn’t want to patronise a location that may have a leaning in the wrong way. Fred indicated, “ give yourself an uppercut if it leans the wrong way, all you need to do is walk around to the other side, so it leans the correct way”. Such simple logic, eh ?

Our day started with a visit to a small village just beyond Palaia. Only about 10 minutes away. Much smaller than many in the surrounding district. Just one retail outlet that we could see: a small caffe in which some elder gents were seated playing cards in a most animated manner. A church, small school and some rather small and narrow streets that would have struggled with small vehicles. The village was in an elevated position, overlooking the vineyards and olive groves. Perhaps the village was the residence for the farmers, as there were not many houses amongst the vineyards etc ?

The village only took a few minutes to walk around, but we were noticed: an Italian gent wanting to know where we were from. When we told him “Sydney”, he replied “Bella Australie”. I think he was a “happio-chappione.” We endeavoured to chat with him to explain what we were doing and how much we were enjoying Tuscany. He picked up the odd word as we did with his replies. All ended with him saying “ Ciao, Ciao”. It is these exchanges that we enjoy: often we challenge ourselves by engaging others. It is part of our learning experience.

From here to another nearby village perched at perhaps the highest point of the district, Bucciano. Very little here other than a couple of dogs that wanted to voice their disapproval of our arrival. Their owner yelling to them to stop: one did, the other obviously not of Italian extract: ignoring the commands.  

Back into the Peugeot 208 for a short drive back to Palaia and a good coffee. This we had in the local pub, “Reggio Palaia Pub”. Obviously a local bikies hangout, as the local publican had Harley Davidson material throughout his small establishment. Back down to the small caffe for the compulsory gelati, which was locally made by the mother of the girl who served us. Superb marsala, cherry and chocolate flavours. Typically, the gelati cabinets have many flavours from which to select: I take as much time to select as to eat.

We chatted with the young girl in the caffe and watched the few regulars sitting in there playing sudoku, doing the crossword, and a Nona just sitting there hoping to be engaged in conversation with anyone who came into the caffe. One of these was a young boy and his mother. They purchased some gelati: Fred decided to give him one of her souvenir pencils: he refused to take it: his other deputising for him. The Nona (perhaps she was the gelati chef ?), mentioned that he should say “Grazie”. He refused, saying “I do not speak their language, so I don’t have to”. Fred thought that he was a bit shy. 

Palaia’s main street is narrow, and to our amazement a local passenger bused managed to negotiate it and the 2 arches at either end of the street. It was in this village we got lost on our first day. Yes, got lost in a village with about 10 narrow visas. “How could you get lost in such a small place, I hear you say”. Not easy, just keep following the arrows posted on the walls of the houses. 

Many of the shops in this thriving metropolis were shut: not operating between 1400 and 1800 hours after opening for a morning session, when the locals come out to buy their fresh produce for the evening.After reopening, Closing around 2100 hours. 

The Italians seem to be a little cash phobic. Either a cash machine (into which you put your notes and / or coins) is used, of you place the money on a platform / dish, into which the change is placed.

We left Palaia to drive back to Colleoli and to prepare ourselves for dinner in the Villa’s ristorante. Once back, Fred and I sat in the library and played some ABBA music and caught up on some financial aspects. Sheila and David bumped into us and invited us for some wine and cheese in their room. To which I took a 2010 local Chianti: some of which we kept for our 2 hosts, Jeff and Manuel. This duly consumed when we arrived for dinner at about 2100 hours. 

Yes, no typo here; we weren’t late: the villa takes last orders at 2200 !! We have come to realise that they eat rather late in Italy. They are also heavily into food combinations.

This was to be a very late night as we sat and chatted with David and Sheila and Manuel: interspersed with some very sumptuous food (I had rabbit: the same Fred refused to have previously), all washed down with a few bottles of Chianti. Fred had a tenderloin with a green pepper sauce. Bellissimo !! Fred was tasked with one job: to count the bottles consumed. Yes, she couldn’t remember when asked !! Her excuse being that Sheila and her were chatting too much. Both seemed to become quite friendly: David and I were the same.

Up early as we were a little anxious about getting our car back to Pisa airport and then meeting our train to Nice. Ultimately we made this trip without any real fuss, with me choosing to ignore our GPS directions. I had previously noted a quicker way to the airport and decided to give it a go. Fred’s fingernails were given a bit of a workout during this exercise. She had “nothing to worry about”, I kept telling her. She indicated “sureione”.  

Along the way, we endeavoured to fill up the car. Our first attempt in one of the automatic petrol stations, was somewhat of a failure. It appears that the typical service station in Australia where you have bowsers and then go into a shop to pay, seems to be a rarity here. Fortunately I had noticed a petrol station in the middle of the airport. Surely that would be a “normal one”, I noted. Well, I guess that you have worked it out by now, that it wasn’t. Fortunately an english gent was filling up and showed us what to do. You have to prepay and so guess how much you want. No change given, just a receipt with credit. The latter, I gave to a fellow that was opening up the car wash. He seemed rather impressed with the all but €5 credit he had.

The car drop-off was uneventful and then onto their local monorail for our short trip to Pisa Centrale. Just over 30 minutes to spare.

Our train trip was initially to Genova, where we were to change for Nice. The trip taking us along the Ligurian coastline, up through the Cinque Terre. Water to the left and snow capped mountains to the right. “Very picturesque”, I said. “Almost as picturesque as me”, I extended. Fred is yet to respond: well at least outwardly. I think she had a short attack of laryngitis ? 

All went well, until we got to Genova Bigloni: the station we thought at which we had to get off. We did, but didn’t realise this until the train had pulled out. We were supposed to alight at Genova Primi Principi. An American couple with whom we were chatting with on the train, did the same. Fortunately we had some 60 minutes to correct the situation and were able to get to Piazza Principi in time for our connection. 

We will be more cautious next time: especially in the larger centres where there is likely to be more than one station. To say that this caused both of us a little anxiety, would be somewhat of an understatement. We both cautiously monitored the speed of the train that we caught from Bigloni to Principi as it approached the platforms. A Italian gent who was on our train could see that we were a little perplexed and showed us how to determine which platform to get our train, once we alighted. Funny now, but not then. A close “shaveione”: a near miss.

From here, we checked as to how many stations (“Gares”) were in Nice. Just the one fortunately. We didhey were on a belated honeymoon from Seattle.

From our journey’s end, we were able to easily find our hotel, Bristol. About 5 minutes’ walk. Our room 18 was about as big as the toilet we had at Colleoli: still this is what we come to expect in Europe: cram them in and charge them heaps !!

Plenty of restaurants etc in our vicinity from which to select. We walked around and selected a Turkish kebab restaurant. Back to room 18 for a restful sleep as we plan another big day for tomorrow.

Au Revior