Last day. Loaded the car. Threw away heaps of food, left the toaster for the next lot of guests and got away at 9-ish. It’s raining which makes the trip so much more fun! Only a few ‘oops’ and no ‘wups’ from the back seat.

Got to the airport with heaps of time to spare. Bob rang to say he’d been turfed out and was waiting outside the eye clinic. We dropped the car key off and popped Claire into a taxi with her and Bob’s luggage then checked onto the plane.

Needless to say we were so early we had the choice of seats and I’m still annoyed Mirinda didn’t choose the cockpit. Bought chocolates for work then went to the departures lounge for more waiting. All boarded and left, almost on time.

I had an empty seat beside me which, I assume was meant for a Stockwell, until the Italians in front of me asked if their friend could move from up front to next to me. Hey ho! One day I’ll get to be comfortable on a plane.

Arrived at Gatwick 10 minutes early and the taxi that Mirinda had booked was waiting. I was worried we’d get Boris Karloff again but no, this time it was the one-armed man and since I am not Dr Richard Kimble, I was not concerned.

Got home after a very smooth run and a long conversation regarding the amount of rain the UK has had in the last 10 days. Went to pick the puppies up. They went insane! They were also very smelly and sneezy.

A nice smelling, washed, Carmen

Went to Sainsbury’s for supplies then back home. Finally. Gave the dogs a bath, had chicken and salad for dinner with bread that tasted of something. Both very tired. Mirinda crashed at about 9. I stayed up to ring Kelly for her 18th but was slowly falling asleep on the phone. Finally died at midnight.

And that was Tuscany.

PS: Bob and Claire got to stay in Pisa for another 7 days. He had laser treatment to ‘weld’ the repair work together which was as painful as it sounds. They got to see the leaning tower of Pisa a number of times and most of Pisa itself. They arrived back in the UK on January 8 and flew back home on January 10, after a brilliant meal at the Yew Tree, cutting short their holiday by a couple of weeks. Thanks to the brilliant Australian travel agent, a limo picked them up from the Butts and delivered them to Heathrow in plenty of time for their flight home.

What a bizarre day.

Mirinda got hold of an English-speaking ophthalmologist in a Pisa hospital and he said Bob had to come in for an immediate operation. So we all hopped into the car and poor Mirinda gets her first (but decidedly not her final) right-hand side of the road drive. It was fine – a couple of slip-ups in navigation but her driving was excellent, of course.

On arrival at Pisa airport, where we knew we could park the hire car with no problem, we switched to a taxi and he took us to a hospital. From here we went to the A&E which in Italian is the Pronto Soccorso.

What an awful place! No obvious reception, heaps of sick people standing, leaning, drooling. We barged into a small corridor and found a young guy who spoke some English and he took Bob’s details.

Meanwhile an old lunatic was wheeled in by a pretty tough looking ambo. The old lunatic kept trying to get up but the ambo kept pushing him back down. All this, as well as the lunatic’s wife and what could have been his son, plus the gurney, in a tiny corridor squishing me up against the wall.

Anyway, the young guy comes back and hands Bob a piece of paper with an effective and very official-looking tick on it, which we were told to take to the ochio (eye) clinic. We found it easily enough but then ran into a language problem with the receptionist when, suddenly her sidekick looks at Bob and perhaps with a sudden mind meld burst forth with a “Ah! Retina! Si!” and send us to the first floor. Here we waited for the doctor to see Bob.

Much nicer than A&E, just a few people with hands over their eyes. Staff very friendly. Eventually Bob was taken away for eye drops then returned to us so we could watch one pupil grow to mammoth proportions before our own. He was then taken away by a stunning blonde. A while later, he returned to say they reckoned it is detached in four places (how many places is it attached?) and he will be operated on and come back in an hour or two. He went back to his blonde while we went for our second pizza in Pisa.

As we left the grounds of the hospital we realised we were right behind the Duomo and tower. After the pizza we went back and Bob was just being prepped for the job so we took off to book a hotel as he can’t fly for seven days post-op. Good job we didn’t fly home early to go to a doctor in the UK as the eye would probably have exploded.

We went to the Victoria (where Farelli stayed) and they were very nice and understanding and all dates except tomorrow night are ok. They were extra nice though and found a hotel with a room tomorrow – not bad as it’s New Years Eve. As we walked away I noticed the top of the hotel was being invaded by a swarm of Santas and snapped this picture. I think it was probably an Italian cloning experiment gone horribly wrong. It’s a bit hard to see in the little picture but the red things are all Santas.

Santa Raid!

We then took a walk down Pisa High Street, stopped for coffee, sent Gary 300 miles for a copy of the Sunday Times, and slowly walked back to the hospital. We arrived just as they wheeled Bob back to his room. He has to keep his head still for three hours while lying on his stomach. We told him of our plans then left as he has to stay overnight for observation.

As we couldn’t find a taxi, we popped into a friendly looking hotel and the receptionist ordered us one happily! We are back at the airport in about 10 minutes. I sat in the front seat and it was one of the scariest car rides I NEVER want to remember.

A pretty stressful car ride home in the dark but, again, Mirinda was superb. Unfortunately my culinary skills did not match it as my poor excuse for pasta and cheese would attest to. We then packed and showered and hit our beds.

Home tomorrow. Really missing the puppies and a double bed. Oh, and light. This place is so dark.

Awake at 6:30. Oops. Awake at 8.

I was sitting on the toilet happily abluting when a half asleep Mirinda opened the door and, in alarm, blurted out “Blur!”, shut the door and retreated. She believes this has never happened before in 11 years of marriage so I included here for fear it is forgotten.

Today we set out for Monteriggioni (or “Monte-G” as I call it) which is sort of on the way to Siena. It is described as one of Tuscany’s most perfectly preserved medieval villages. It is an “unsullied vision of the Middle Ages” and is amazing. It’s not very big and is like a living museum. The weirdest thing is that the people in the shops looked miserable when they served me. This is contrawise to my every other Tuscan experience so far and a bit of a surprise. Mind you, the old woman who served me from within the dark confines of her gift shop, spoke and smiled at Claire so maybe it’s me.

The Stockwells in Monty-G

The towers of Monte G are mentioned in Dante’s Inferno where they are described as resembling giants in an abyss. This is written on a stone plaque as you enter the city but I didn’t see it and only just read about it in a guide book!!!

The town was founded in 1203 by the Sienese. We had a lovely meal the restaurant. I had ravioli and shaved truffles and a grande beer. Truly delicious. I wasn’t too keen on a truffles after the wild boar but this has changed my mind. We left after walking around all the streets (there are only two) and popped into the cute little church, and drove back by the gorgeous Colle di Val d’Elsa (which we only glimpsed).

When we got back we went to San Vivaldo to see the chapels. What a lovely setting this is. It was founded when an old hermit died in a hollow trunk of a chestnut tree – go figure. This was in the 14th century and his name was Vivaldo Stricchi of San Gimignano.

There are 18 (or 17 depending on who you ask) chapels, each containing terracotta statues telling the story of Christ. It was originally set up as an alternate for pilgrims going to Jerusalem during the dangerous times of the Crusades. Because of this, the chapels are built in a way to replicate the places in Jerusalem and Palestine connected with the preaching and passion of Christ.

Carting a cross up a hill in terra cotta

Originally there were 30 but a lot of chapels fell into disrepair and some fell over the edge of a cliff. One of the statues was of Barabbas, the dude freed instead of Jesus, and was regularly stoned when, during the 1700s it became fashionable for single girls who wanted to find husbands to chuck a rock at him. Eventually the keepers of the chapel took the statue down in 1930! I’m surprised there was anything left.

It was all lovely and very soothing among the trees. We then took off back to Rodilosso where we sat on the balcony having tea/coffee and horrible Christmas cake. Bob that went for a lay down so we all did.

I cooked an eggplant casserole-y thing. (Bob was very sick – projectile vomiting – so he didn’t eat any.) I thought it turned out pretty good given the primitive conditions.

Bob eventually got up and joined us. He then admitted to having a problem with his left eye which has been bothering him for the last few days. We stayed up until 11:30 so he could ring his optometrist in Oz. Everyone’s a bit worried. We were going to Florence tomorrow but I somehow think this is NOT going to be happening!!

The optometrist said it sounded like Bob had a detached retina and he should ring a local doctor to get it looked at ASAP. When Bob asked if he should go back to the UK first, the guy said “DO IT STRAIGHT AWAY” so I guess it’s a big thing!

Mirinda spent a while ringing around embassies trying to find someone who spoke English. The US guy was very nice. It was decided to go to bed and ring round tomorrow morning.

Woke up at 7:30 and it’s pissing down with rain. Woke up at 9:30 and it’s still raining. Finished writing my journal at 11 – busy day yesterday. The rain stopped and it seems to be clearing up. Am re-considering going for a walk.

Walk for half-an-hour until I came to a river I’m supposed to follow. I am assuming from a raging torrent that the map I have it’s best followed in summer! Still, it’s lovely and secluded here in the Forest. Am now sitting on a mossy milestone on a bend in the road somewhere between Bella Vista and Tre Ponte (three bridges), my back towards a lovely panorama of the hill up to Montaione. The tracks marked are ones that appeared to be driveways into farm houses and while the tracks appear to continue through them, big private property and entry forbidden signs tend to turn one off!

Saw the remains a wild boar carcass by the road. The only reason I know what it was, was because of its still preserved snout. Speaking of boars, as I walked past the dog kennels earlier, the Leprechaun and his family were scrubbing down the fresh carcass of a pig – not a boar but a big pink porky.

It’s a shame that I can’t walk among the Tuscan hills but guess the Tuscan roads will have to suffice.

A Tuscan bend in a Tuscan road

Found a road sign with a map pointing off to a path which mirrors the printed matter I have. Actually it’s the same rather than a mirror! It points off to Pozzolo and I was about to start high-stepping up the path when a volley of shots and explosions rang out from the top of the hill. Regardless of how unlike either wild boar or pheasant I am, I decided to remain with the road.

Between Due and Tre of the Tre Ponte, I found a park bench – quite bizarre. I’m sitting, surrounded by winter woods, between two bridges, the occasional car passing, the constant sound of running water from the rivers below and I’m on a green park bench. It’s even concreted into the ground. Nice place to rest and reflect. Which I did for a while.

I’m now sitting 50 minutes later on the edge of a Roman cistern dating from the second century BC. It’s just off the main road by the turn off to Rodilosso. So a big circle. The sign for the ruin had fallen off the pole so I used it, propped up against my walking pole, to indicate the ruin. It’s a great feeling to sit on it and wonder why they built it here. It’s quite big. I wonder if it had an underwater well/spring.

Gaz finds a Roman cistern

Got back in time for Pizza and coffee. A quick shower and we set off for (first) San Vivaldo to make a dinner reservation then on to (second) San Miniato. Some wonderful scenery on the way capped off with the most spectacular views when we got there.

San Miniato was quite a historical spot with Etruscans, Romans and lots of people settling there. Most notably St Francis of Assisi climbed San Maniato on his way home from Pisa, founding a convent here in 1211. Unfortunately everything was closed when we arrived as it was siesta time – except a café that looked decidedly dodgy. We have a look around the Cloister of St Dominic which is basically a very high barn with ornate Trompe l’Oleil painted columns up and down other side giving it an almost Escher-ist feel. It was very dim (in keeping with the religious houses so far this trip) making it hard to see the art works. Still it was a nice quiet place.

We then wandered the streets climbing higher till we were at the Duomo and the Sanctuary of the Holy Cross. There is a huge tower to Frederick II on top of the hill we didn’t go up.

We left San Miniato just as it started to wake up and drove back to Montaione for coffee and to buy some suppliers for tonight. I am going to attempt an egg plant thing, so had to get these plus milk etc. Then walked up to the Tabac for more film (that’s why there’s no pictures of San Miniato!) and the Times for Bob. Back at Rodilosso we all rested for an hour.

We had a lovely dinner at Osteria, San Vivaldo. Lovely food, lovely service. Mirinda declared it the best so far. And I can safely say…she was right!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We discussed the plan for tomorrow – we’re going to another walled town – the perfect one.

Farelli left on a plane at 7 this morning, as long as she got a taxi to take her to Pisa airport at 5! I got up at 8:30, about the time she’d be landing at Gatwick. She, of course, is going to work today.

We set off at about 10:30 for Volterra, another Tuscan hill town, this one is 3000 years old. Well, bits of it are. First stop was the TIC for maps and info on where the best coffee resides. We settled into a lovely cafe with the most amazing display of chocolate tools I have ever seen. Everything from spanners to bolts, from stilsons to mallets, very accurately replicated in chocolate. They looked so real. And because they are made of chocolate, they also look very rusty. At 60 euros per kilogram I’m not sure who would actually buy any of them. We had some delicious little pastries and cafe lattes.

We then split up, Mirinda and I headed for the Duomo. Another beautiful black-and-white striped church awaited us. This one was consecrated in 1120 and along the walls are some of the loveliest art works I’ve ever seen. Very bright and very clear. In particular the Annunciation which was painted by Mariotto Albertinelli and Fra Bartolomeo in 1498 is a lovely picture. There is also a remarkable wooden statue of the Deposition (removal of Christ from the Cross) which looks like it was carved in the 1950s but was actually made in the 13th century. It’s, apparently, “…one of the most important and best preserved of the wooden sculptures of the 13th century.” Throughout this trip I have seen the best and most important so many times I’m writing that through salt granules. However it was quite remarkable.

The ceiling, like all of these churches, is painted beautifully with wads of heavenly depictions. And notably, this one has heads looking down in relief (bas relief, not “Phew, that was lucky” relief). These heads belong to the patron saints of Volterra, Mary and various angels. In the Chapel of a Lady of sorrows this is a nativity from the 15th century which looks very sombre and a huge statue of Mary with what appears to be arrows piercing her chest. No wonder she’s sorrowful.

Actually, I’ve often wondered why she’s sad. OK, when her boy was beaten up, being crucified and died I can understand it, but then he rose from the dead and went to heaven, surely she should be happy about that. And then she joined him there, I assume, which should also please her. Maybe she was just a misery. And come to think of it, what happened afterwards? Did Mary and Joseph live happily (miserably) ever after? I’d like to go into a chapel of Mary that shows her smiling, perhaps a joke whispered to her by 25 year-old Christ. It could be called Our Lady of the Warm Smile Chapel. I realise most Catholics think she should always be miserable and what I’m saying is wrong but I reckon she deserves just a bit of cheer. Actually in the painting of the Annunciation she looks like she’s saying to the Angel, “No, I don’t think so. Try next door. Beatrice is home. Ask her.”

Talking about Mary’s impregnation by God in the guise of an angel can anyone tell me how this is any different to Jupiter turning into a swan and having his way with Leda? Ignoring the bird thing of course… though angels have wings.

Anyway, from the cathedral we stepped across the small Piazza to the baptistery.

Near the top of Volterra

Tradition claims this was built on the site of a pagan temple although no written record supports this. It was built in 989 and is dedicated to St John. It’s a big round building with a huge empty font in the middle, containing a large statue of St John the Baptist. Around the walls are sculptures and paintings and chairs facing inwards. Although it was originally built in 989, most of what is there today was constructed from the end of the fifteenth-century. There is a magnificent white marble baptismal font depicting Christ’s baptism and the virtues faith, hope, charity and justice. I felt rather sorry for the poor old man who had to sit on guard as the place is quite dim and chilly.

From here we set to wandering through the tiny medieval streets, avoiding the traffic which only narrowly avoided us. Actually Bob was hit by a wing mirror! These drivers have a lot more faith in their driving than is deserved. We made our way up to the archaeological park. To get there you have to walk up an almost vertical path which zigs and zags through all planes. The park is at the top of Volterra and at the back of the Medici Palace. In one corner is the Etruscan Acropolis.

Etruscan ruins in Volterra

These ruins date back to the third century BC and are still being excavated – though not while we were there. This is where I got excited! There are two temples, one over the other and it’s all pretty extensive. They have found evidence of rituals to honour underworld and infernal divinities. There’s also a cat which lives there but I’m not sure if it’s underworld or infernal. Mind you, it’s not very friendly.

Etruscan cat about to run off

The guide (piece of paper) has an e-mail address for more info. I wonder if they’re digging next year…

Sadly, we left the ruins as it was nearing our meeting time with Bob and Claire. We had lunch in a nice little ristorante (I had lasagne) then split up once more, us to the Roman theatre, Bob and Claire to see the cathedral and buy some alabaster.

The theatre is amazing. The public can’t roam over it like the one at Verona but there are a lot of vantage points. The entire site was excavated between 1950 and 1956. A lot of the central wall has been restored to give an idea of what it would have looked like but most of it is real. It was built into a natural depression in the side of the hill which would have given great acoustics.

Roman theatre

From the guide: The most important families of Volterra (the Persii, Aelii, Laelii and Caecinae families) would have sat in a space surrounding the orchestra on seats, the backs of which have been found with the names still inscribed.

Some things never change then.

During the second half of the third century AD the theatre was abandoned and a thermal baths complex constructed. Possibly for all the dirty actors. They are apparently some lovely preserved mosaics but they are not on show, hidden beneath protective canopies. A pity. There is no souvenir staff at the site so I have no idea what any of it actually looks like. Apart from this gripe, it was excellent.

We then walked down to the car and waited for Bob and Claire. They got lost. Bob walked down (then back-up) the worst staircase in Tuscany because he thought we were in car park 3. Claire, wisely, remained at street level awaiting his puffed return. They eventually found us in car park 5.

And the drive back was a bit wobbly as we negotiated the millions of S bends. This upset Mirinda’s tummy somewhat so when we got back to Rodilosso we all laid down for a rest.

Went to San G for dinner. Food was nice, restaurant busy, wine superb.

When we got back to Rodilosso we talked for a few hours about the staff at Stockwell’s and their families then crashed.

I’m going for a walk tomorrow, weather permitting.

Going to take Farelli to Pisa today so up at 7:30 sitting on the balcony writing this. A lot more blue-sky out this morning, which is nice. Still quite chilly.

We left at 10:45 to catch the 11:40 train to Empoli – Bob and Claire dropped us off.

Because its Boxing Day the trains are very few and far between.

Waiting for a train

Eventually Mr Toscana, the stationmaster, arrived on platform one and gesticulated that the next train wouldn’t arrive until 2pm. After picking up our dropped jaws, we thanked him then headed into the deserted (except for lots of old men hanging around in strange little groups) Castelfiorentina. We decided to have lunch and stopped in a cafe where we found a guy who speaks English and lived for 12 years in New York – his English was excellent and tinged with an American accent. Had a lovely salmon-y omelette and a couple of beers – Mirinda had salty chicken and roast potatoes. By the time we got back to the station it was occupied by a few in the know locals so we felt confident the train would arrive. And it did.

So we get to Empoli to find the next train to Pisa is in an hour and a half! Italian timetables have squiggly lines to indicate trains that don’t run regularly and this means on days like Boxing Day there’s very very very very very few trains… so I get sent to find coffee and Coke. Actually I was getting very irritated at this point and Mirinda sent me off to get over it.

Empoli seems to be the Asian capital of Tuscany. As I left the station, the obligatory Piazza was full of Asians but not in tour groups and not all Japanese. It was strange! Maybe there’s some connection between Empoli and the east. Anyway I walked around the medieval streets but Empoli was shut up tighter than a drum. The Cinema was open but there was only a queue. I walk back to the station. I did take a couple of photos and spoke to a lunatic woman which will now form my lasting impression of Empoli.

A fountain in Empoli

Eventually the train arrived for Pisa and we got on it. Not that you’d know it. There are no indicators on the platform. There is an occasional announcement over the tannoy in which you glimpse words that seem to imply it’s your train (“…due binari…Pisa…”) but basically it’s just luck. It was the right train.

We got to Pisa just gone 4. We booked Farelli into a hotel on the river then walked up to the tower. It was beautiful in the final rays of the setting sun. I’ve always thought it was just a tower but it was originally built as a bell tower behind the cathedral.

Duomo, Pisa

The cathedral and the tower both compliment each other with that wedding-cake look and there’s a baptistery as well which completes the Renaissance chutzpah of the picture. There was a lot of people wandering around and a million a souvenir booths selling what has to be the world’s tackiest souvenirs! By the time it got too dark to see anything we had found a pizzeria and sat down to eat. Of course we had to have pizza in Pisa. It was ok. The beer was better.

We then walked Farelli back to her hotel and continued on to Pisa station. The main street was very crowded though most of the shops remained closed. All very friendly though, not like London.

Our train back arrived dead on a 7:14 (this train was not on the timetable. We thought we had an hour and a half wait at Empoli on the way back but the info guy at Pisa station assured us this one would get us to Empoli in time to connect with the 8:02 to Siena) and delivered us to Empoli just before 8. A bit of confusion with which platform the Siena train was on – I got on a Pisa train but managed to hop off again… luckily. A kindly guard pointed us in the direction of the correct train which mysteriously sat on platform three with absolutely no indication as to where or when it was due to leave. We got on, fingers crossed, and it took us to Castelfiorentina where we met Bob and went back to Rodilosso.

Bob and Claire had another day in San G.

We sat over tea/coffee and my not very good Christmas cake then hit the beds about 10. Funny day. Hopefully tomorrow will prove a little more successful. We’re going to Volterra.

Woke up about 8. Still no sun, though no fog today and the sky looking brighter. Not particularly cold.

Our room has only a small window which does not allow a lot of light so the mornings don’t wake you naturally, which I find a bit weird. Actually the whole villa is quite dark which is a shame though they are probably very cool in summer.

Farelli came down at 11:30 and we opened presents for an hour. Mirinda bought me the amazing de Vinci one-handed clock we’d seen in San G and an annotated Alice!! At last!

We then had breakfasted on champagne and my Christmas cake which I think is a bit dry. Really need to give it more brandy on a regular basis next year! I stuffed up the icing as well. Hopefully Farelli’s will be better.

Mirinda, Farelli and I then went for a walk down the road to Pozzolo.

Take the left fork for Pozzolo

When I say down I mean DOWN! After a while it became apparent we would have a mountain to climb back up so we turn round and retraced the steps. We had tea/coffee with Farelli then it was time for granny naps all round. Except for me, I read my Alice.

Then into Mantaione for Christmas dinner. What a lovely restaurant! Great atmosphere (gotta feel sorry for them though, working Christmas Day), great staff, great food. My traditional Christmas dinner consisted of risotto with lettuce and truffles, guinea fowl and tiramisu. Also a couple bottles of Tuscan red wine. A terrific meal. We then finished with the obligatory walk around the streets. The view over the valley was very clear and twinkling with thousands of lights – all very festive. We then drove home and watched Poirot’s Christmas in Italian.

Up at 8. Today is Florence with Farelli and me. The Stockwells are to spend a family day together in San G.

Bob dropped us at the station in Castelfiorentina and we hopped onto the train to Firenze. Nice enough train journey though the guard told us off for not punching the ticket in the yellow machine ala Verona. Florence station is a bit nondescript and in the way of most main stations, is at the yurky part of town. However it wasn’t long before we reached the Duomo and a cafe for breakfast/lunch. I had a ham and cheese thing and Farelli had an egg plant lasagne-ish thing. Both very nice. The cafe is a popular spot. A lot of people coming in, sitting down and going out. Cafe Frenetic it should be called.

After our caffeine shot we walked to the Accademia Gallery to see The David. On a nothing street with no signs or fanfare, is a plain door.

Farelli pointing the way to the David

I assume in busier times a queue would show the way but this time of year a good map is required. We walked in, paid our dosh and entered the main gallery hall. To see The David is extraordinary experience. The statue has enormous presence and beauty. It is bigger than I thought it would be and stands on a pedestal high enough to be admired over the heads of everyone. A few fellow tourists gathered round his base but it wasn’t exactly crowded. We circled him and sat for a while behind in contemplation of his perfect butt (this is where the only seats are).

The David came to the Accademia in 1873 from his previous outdoor position in the Piazza Della Signoria. The Gallery is now known as the Michelangelo Museum although it is still the Accademia. The building is situated on the former site of a monastery and consists of works from the Accademia Del Disegno (Academy of Drawing) founded by Cosmo de’Medici in 1563 and from the Academy of Fine Arts founded in 1784. We looked at (nearly) everything else but really it’s The David that dominates.

Words fail to adequately describe the awesome beauty of him. I cannot comprehend the ability of anyone to render such a work of genius and perfection.

Finally managing to drag ourselves away, we left the Accademia (deciding to skip the extra gallery at the end of the strange poly-tunnel) and headed back past the Duomo towards the Ponte Vecchio. On the way we passed the Piazza della Signora with the copy of The David sits and so many other famous statues just ‘there’ for people to see and admire. A sharp right turn brought us to the road between the galleries of the Uffizi and eventually the river. We crossed the road and looked up at the Ponte Vecchio, alight with shimmering gold. This is a result of light on the jewellery shops! It’s amazing, a bridge of jewellery shops. They used to be butcher shops but some dude objected to the smell and so they switched to jewellery.

The wonderful Ponte Vecchio

We walked down and crossed it with the thousands of others. It bustles, let me tell you! It gives a real flavour of the Renaissance as it rises and falls over the river like a hill of Commerce. We took some photos with Florence in the background (in the middle of the bridge is an opening to either side to the river) then crossed to the other side for a massive ice cream and a gallon of beer. I’m so glad we asked for the small ones.

My few words of Italian are very handy as surprisingly not a lot of people appear to speak English. I say surprisingly not out of any egocentric belief in the English language but rather because Florence is such a tourist mecca I thought it would have been mandatory. I mean the people of Fjaerderlandfjord spoke English and there’s only bookshops there! Farelli’s French helped as well though it did tend to baffle them.

Having glutted ourselves (I had strawberries and a lot of cream) we retraced our steps to the Uffizi. Again, no queues as we were warned. You can see the permanent barriers there for crowd control which is a bit scary. They reckon you can be stuck in the queue for three hours. We just walked in, were X-rayed, paid our money and climbed the very very very long staircases. Puffed at the top we went into a few selected rooms (bearing in mind there are 45 to admire), holding some of the greatest art works of the Renaissance and beyond.

It is a magnificent place. I saw Botticelli’s Venus which is so much better in real life even though it is behind glass, Titian’s Venus, which Farelli wanted to pinch and put in her bedroom, Caravaggio’s Bacchus and so many more works of brilliance. Not to mention an awful lot of penises. It seems the Renaissance saw an upsurge in male genitalia.

The Uffizi itself is apparently one of the world’s most important galleries and, although it first opened to the public in 1765, it was taking visitors on request 200 years before this. The word Museum (from the Greek ‘ muses’, a place dedicated to them) had been resurrected in Florence by a man, correctly called Lorenzo the Magnificent, when he established a garden of antique sculptures in San Marco – sorry, the book does not mention how he managed to grow them. A lot of the brilliance of the Uffizi comes from the fact that the collection has come from many other collections from families like the Medici’s who had a great love and belief in art and beauty.

We also saw a few Giotto’s which show why he is so important to art as a whole.

Exhausted but starry-eyed we left the Uffizi and retraced our steps for a quick look at the Duomo. It had closed early due to Christmas Eve and so a quick look through the closed glass doors was all we managed.

Florence cathedral

We then got lost on the way back to the station thanks to my map-reading skills. But Farelli soon turned the map up the right way and we started back towards the station rather than Moscow. Beers were then purchased for the long arduous journey and we finally settled our grateful legs and bums into the very comfortable train seats…ahhhh! Oh, and I remembered to punch the ticket twice in the yellow machine.

I have to say at this point that I really like Italian trains. They are clean, comfortable and punctual. However, the station’s could really do with a bit of illumination. You cannot see the names at night. Fortunately the punctuality helps as at 7:11 precisely we pulled into Castelfiorentina.

Bob and Mirinda were waiting for us and we all drove (well, Bob drove and we all watched) back to Rodilosso. An exhausted Farelli gave her excuses and went to her place to fall into bed.

We had pizza, watched the Adams family in Italian (a great Lurch) then the Monte Carlo circus and finally bed. My knees are very sore.

Up at 8 and the weather’s gloomy. Sat on the balcony, drinking my coffee, practising semaphore with Farelli when she rose. Needed NO breakfast, no way! Not after last nights monstrous dinner.

Eventually we set off for Siena through some pretty ordinary countryside. Actually it’s probably pretty amazing but the fog and the rain and the concentration left a pretty ordinary impression.

We eventually arrived at a parking area on the outskirts of the town. It’s a fairly sizeable place again with narrow medieval streets leading to a piazza. This time the world famous Piazza Campo, the meeting place of the 9 districts and the only place in the world where a cafe latte costs the national debt of Norway.

It all looked a bit eerie in the fog – the top of the tower on the Palazzo Pubblico had vanished – as we sat at an outside café drinking our solid gold drinks.

Afterwards we split up, Bob and Claire going one way, we three the other. We started off at the Palazzo Pubblico, the council building which dominates the Campo – the other sides consist of the 9 palaces which have long since become very expensive cafes.

The fountain in the middle is the Fonte Gaia (Joyous Fountain) and was built in 1858 but replaced one built in 1419 which was built over the top of the original Fonte Gaia built in 1343. It’s very pretty and, in the 1419 version, held the first female nude statues shown in a public place that were neither Eve or some repentant saint.

Farelli & Mirinda at the Joyous Fountain

The Palazzo Pubblico now houses the Civic Museum which we dutifully roamed (and I bought a t-shirt). There is room after room of beautiful frescos and statues dating from majorly old to quite recent. A couple of the statues were very poignant (Sorrow by Emilio Gallori and was intended for the tomb of the Sienese artists and Luisa Mussini Lying Down by Giovanni Dupre) and quite superb.

In one of the last rooms, the Room of Peace, there’s a series of frescoes covering three walls and depicting the Allegory of Good and Bad Government. They were painted by Ambrogio Lorenzetti (on commission) for the Government of the Nine between 1338 and 1340. They are really superb and deserved the long time we spent deciphering them.

I wanted to climb the tower (of course) but it was closed because of the rain. So it was back into the piazza and we headed for the cathedral.

This looks a bit like monochrome Lego or black and white Liquorice Allsorts all piled up. Unfortunately the photos, again, are obscured by the weather so I include this silly one of me and Farelli under the Romulus and Remus statue!

A bit of pole hugging

It’s in a small Piazza (Piazza Duomo, naturally) and is really something to behold. Must look great in the sunshine. Inside it was quite dark and gloomy, I guess to protect the art. The floors are brilliant. There is 52 panels of inlaid etched and coloured marble and they were designed by the greatest Seinese artists of the 15th and 16th centuries. “Great scenes teeming with hundreds of figures against the bristling towers of the fortified towns and idyllic landscapes unfold beneath our feet.” as the guide book tells us. Last years donations paid for their restoration which is a good thing. There were a lot of tourists there with us but, for a change, they were mostly, pretty much, well behaved.

Bought a guidebook at the shop (“there’s always somewhere to spend your money“) and, of course, a some postcards.

We then ventured back into the now darkened streets.

A few notes regarding Siena:

• The Government of Nine, as the governing body of Siena was called, moved in to the Palazzo Pubblico in 1310. Nine was the number of areas in Tuscany. The building had 10 doorways, one for each region and one for the Chapel of Nine (this all starts to sound like the Lord Of the Rings after a while). The nine members of the government were never allowed out of the Palace except on feast days so it’s no wonder there is so much epic art since they had no television.
• The Roman statue of Romulus and Remus suckling at the she-wolf is everywhere in Siena. I wondered about this as it’s the myth about the creation of Rome but the guidebook says that Remus is the father of Aschius and Senius who fled the wrath of Romulus, bearing the effigy as a symbol of their lost homeland. They took refuge in the Tuscan hills where Senius founded the city.
• The Mangia Tower gets its name from the bell ringer who was nicknamed Mangiaguadagni which literally means ‘earnings gobbler’. The book doesn’t say why this guy ate his wages but one assumes he had a hunchback and loved pretty girls from afar.
• The Duomo is built on the site of a temple dedicated to Minerva. According to a ‘reliable tradition’ the church is the result of many different constructions. Or rather, it was started and stopped quite a few times from its consecration on 18th November 1179 until the late 14th century although things have been added or replaced right up to the present day.

From the cathedral we found a shop selling electrical goods where we managed to buy a toaster and a kettle even given the fact we don’t speak Italian and mimed most of the transaction. We then had a cafe latte and some seriously yumbo sweet things in a rather popular cafe with realistic prices thus explaining the popularity. We then met Bob and Clare back at the Piazza Campo to begin the long trek back to the car.

The drive back was horrendous. A combination of bad weather (it was raining and sometimes seriously foggy), the Italian drivers, inadequate signage, night and driving on the wrong side of the road, made for a mighty scary time for Bob.

Anyway, we managed to get back to the villa safely and all cheered Bob for his wonderful driving and Mirinda for a reasonable navigation. I made a wild boar and truffle salami pasta, which all said was lovely.

Woke up at 7 then at 10. Bob and Claire have gone.

An interesting fact about Italian bread – it appears to have no salt. This makes it quite tasteless! The sliced stuff (“Ideal for toasting“) is also a bit sweet and tastes like cake when it’s toasted.

We had coffee/tea on the balcony then walked around the ‘estate’. The place has a rosemary hedge. Extraordinary. The swimming pool is in a lovely scenic spot but just a tad cold for use today!

Jump in, the water's fine

There was lots of men with shotguns making big bangy noises – I think they were hunting small aquatic mammals called underwater friends but Mirinda tells me these aren’t actually real. It was probably pheasant. Ho hum. On our walk we dropped in and visited Farelli who, like us, had a nice long, well earned sleep.

She had an odd dream about Tuscan earthquakes, saving Mirinda and meetings with scud missiles, which seems to indicate she’s concerned about the impending war, Mirinda and the movement of tectonic plates. Or maybe it was just her bed, I don’t know.

Bob and Claire got back at about 12 bearing pizzas and croissants for lunch.

Bob & Claire had spent the morning in San Gimignano (from here on in called San G) where we wanted to spend the afternoon so Mirinda (bravely) said we’d take the car but Bob was concerned so ended up driving us there. He dropped Farelli, Mirinda and me at the lower part of the city, right by the robot toilet.

Woman eating robot toilet

We agreed to all meet outside the cathedral at 7:30 with a restaurant booked.

What a gorgeous town. It’s called ‘The town of beautiful towers’ and it is. The guide book spouts a lot of history but I think the final paragraph sums it up:

Today San Gimignano has it’s own personality and is renown world-wide as a town of art, under the protection of UNESCO. But there is more. It’s atmosphere, comparable to that of a large legendary and enchanted castle, awakens in visitors dreams of bygone days and distant places, believed to have vanished, but the existence of which is instead still tangible.

Tea with Mussolini was set in Florence and here (this is where the women are moved to), with make believe Germans flying through the tiny medieval streets.

There are two piazzas which form the central focus of the town and they are joined via an arch. Piazza Duomo is the highest and is fronted by the old cathedral. We went and had a squizz in the Museum of Sacred Art then into the cathedral. What amazing frescos! The whole bible (virtually) is painted on the walls from the creation leading up to the resurrection…OK that’s not the whole bible, but it’s a lot of it! Each of the frescos is a story and they are so beautiful (in Tea with Mussolini, these are what Judi Dench is trying to save). We had fun spotting the stories we knew.

There was one distinctly confusing picture of some dude tied to a stake with a load of archers turning him into a hedgehog. He had the circle round his head and a beard so we naturally assumed it was Christ but none of us remember the ‘trial by having arrows stuck into you’ section of the New Testament. It turned out to be St Sebastien who was used as target practice by someone horrible.

The series with God making man had a cartoon quality that I found appealing. In the first we find God swooping down, fingers first, bursting forth with faint little tracer-like white lines from which emerges a naked and sleeping Adam. The next panel sees Adam standing by the animals seemingly saying to God “Like all this is pretty cool, but I really need someone to…well, I haven’t worked out a name for it yet but watch the horses long enough and you’ll get the idea!”

In the third panel Adam is once more lying down with God looming large over him, fingers again held out. From Adam’s lower rib area, a naked woman is rising out of him. It all looked a bit raunchy as God had not yet invented pubic hair. However, before any more happiness can occur the fourth panel finds God and a few evil looking angels round his feet, showing the couple the door for eating the forbidden fruit. A nice touch in this panel is the artist has Adam & Eve covering themselves with their hands but not having a lot of success. It would have looked silly with the traditional fig leaves.

From the cathedral we went to the Civic Museum which has access to the only tower you can climb – the Grosse Tower. It was a long and windy climb with see-through steps that left you a bit woozy, but at the top it was fabulous. Because San G is on a hill, the addition of a high tower makes for the most amazing views. My apologies for the photograph, however, as the weather was crap!

View from the Grosse Tower

I was very proud of Mirinda who, despite her fear of heights, managed the climb (particularly the little ladder at the end) to join us at the top. From here you can see the higgledy piggledy streets and rooftops that feature on countless gift shop offerings. There’s a big broken bell up there too. It obviously had the clanger bashed out of it at some stage and was replaced with a working one. I assume the guys who hauled the new one up couldn’t be bothered lowering the old one so it’s just sitting there, prey to graff artists.

There are signs at the bottom of the tower forbidding access during thunderstorms because of lightening strikes and the top of the tower has copper running all over it, presumably to save the bell being struck (again?). The climb down was pretty awful but the views had been worth any vertigo or wobbly legs. Of course Farelli suffered longest with the wobbles as she has such long legs.

From the tower and the museum we stopped at a café for coffee and cake as we decided what to do with the extra two and a half hours we had before Bob and Claire met us. Once we found the main street and it’s bright lights, it was not a problem but as we sat in the café, Mirinda busily planned the revised timings for later expeditions.

As we left the café we were greeted by the arrival of Babba Natale, an old bloke and two lolly laden donkeys. Soon a festive crowd gathered and a marching band appeared seemingly out of nowhere and struck up a few Christmas carols. Now here’s an interesting thing, this band was very good and tuneful and rousing when it played it’s signature tune but inexplicably fell into a heap of ill struck notes when it attempted Silent Night or any other vaguely recognisable song or, in fact, the strange inclusion of Happy Birthday.

Farelli’s perfect pitch was suffering numerous torturous deaths, so we set off for the shops. Lots of pottery, wine and wild boar salami but no kettles or toasters. We found a restaurant in a hotel the name of which translated to ‘Good Day’ so we figured this sounded Australian and inviting so we booked in.

After a good stroll up and down (then up again) the bright but not-very-but-nice-enough-ly crowded streets, we stopped at the Snack Bar for a beer or two, while we waited for Bob and Claire.

At about 7:20 I went out to meet them but was stopped by this rather trendy looking guy and his equally groovy female companion, who asked me, in rather broken Italian, if I knew the way to the Hotel Good Day. They obviously mistook me for a local, what with my swarthy good looks and Roman nose, an obvious and understandable confusion, so I started to answer. I got as far as “Si” and pointed down the street. then I realised I wasn’t actually Italian and had no idea how to say “Just down this road and on your left“. So I interrupted my barely started answer and asked instead “Do you speak English?“.

He suddenly looked relieved and said “Yes!” so I then told him where the hotel was.

“You’re Australian!” he said.
“So are you,” I replied.

He was from Malloolabah and shook me by the hand, saying “I like your work” before drifting off into the night. What lovely people we Aussies are.

I then found Bob and Claire and we all set off for the restaurant, where a scrumptious and very big meal was consumed with an abundance of local wine. I had the wild boar and truffles. Loved the pig, not sure about the fungus.

We decided to try for a shortcut back to the car rather than climbing back up and over the town again. Big mistake! After travelling for a few days through some of the toughest terrain known to Tuscans, we eventually turned back. Without our machetes it was useless.

Of course, the extended walk meant the wine wore off, some of the food was digested and we saw an awful lot of dark San G. Eventually we all piled into the car and Bob drove back through the light rain.

We had a bedtime drink at Farelli’s place then all retired for the night.

Bob and Claire have decided to buy San G.