Up a bit later than usual this morning – eight o’clock. The sun looks as though it is shining, but knowing the artistic reputation of this region it might be someone doing a spot of landscape painting!
On coming to have a wash, I found that the top of the Vosene bottle had loosened. There was shampoo everywhere, even on my toothbrush. It made cleaning taste a bit weird, but I got a beautiful lather on my teeth!
It was real sun so we may be able to get some pictures of the Tower before moving on to try and make the frontier today. I doubt if we will but we’ll try.
Just outside the tent was a narrow earthen track running parallel to the road. I wondered what it was for. I was soon to find out. Along came two racehorses which stopped just short of the tent. Along came a man on a bike – he looked like the trainer. He started to get angry, speaking rapidly in Italian. Of course, we didn’t understand a word he was saying but I gathered we should not have been there. Knowing how easily racehorses can get upset I could see his point. But he was rather rude and unreasonable. Quite alien to us for up until now, the Italians have always been courteous and very friendly.
He continued shouting and pointed at Allan’s case which was slightly on the path. Allan refused to move it. So I moved it for him, otherwise I could see it would have been stalemate all day. He didn’t like the man’s attitude he said later. Neither did I. The incident closed, we were ready to leave which we did at a quarter to ten.
Obviously, the next stop was the Leaning Tower of Pisa, just a few minutes away. By the way, I am writing this in France which we reached at 8.15 pm. But to continue. 150 lire (25¢?) got us into the Tower. The top was 180 feet and 306 steps away. Round and round up the spiral staircase. It was a strange sensation, for when you are walking on the side nearest the ground it is like walking downstairs, and when round the other side, the going is twice as hard. The same thing in reverse happens on the way down.
There is a magnificent view of Pisa from the top, the weather gods having been kind to us today. It was originally built as a bell-tower, and there are still seven bells hanging around the perimeter. On the wall is an almost tearful, pleading notice saying “Please do not ring the bells.” We didn’t!
Built between 1173 and 1350, several attempts were made to keep it straight. But each time the tower insisted on taking a leaning position. So they gave up and left it as it stands today – fourteen feet out of the perpendicular. What would Galileo have done without it? Fourteen feet grounds and is unbelievable… To look at the ground from a parapet is somewhat un-nerving. Nearly at the top is a parapet with no guard railings. I started to walk around it but when the floor on which I was standing began to tilt alarmingly, I gave up. No guts I know!
The road out of Pisa ran through wooded country parallel to the sea. This part of the journey was especially pleasurable as it was done in the best weather we have had “” since re-entering Italy. We passed through Viareggio, one of the most popular summer resorts. The summer attractions stood as forlorn, and out of place as an Egyptian obelisk on the Thames Embankment now that the season is long gone. The seafront stretches on for miles, almost. English in character.
Further on, the countryside began to take on a more mountainous aspect. Thickly wooded, the green and golds looked beautiful in the sunshine. However, to a motorist hell-bent on getting from one place to another as quickly as possible, the twisting, climbing roads can be something of a frustration. But the real climbing didn’t begin until just after La Spezia, the big naval town on the Ligurian coast. We had to go through the Bracco Pass which reaches a height of 2018 ft. in sixteen miles. That was quite a climb for us but the view from the top was well worth it. On one side were the wooded mountains, and on the other side, far below, the reaches of the Ligurian coast. Immediately below us was the town of Sestri Levante and in the middle distance could be seen the lovely little, world famous resort of Portofino. This is typical of Italy. One day, you think that the scenery could not be more beautiful then the next day seems to surpass it – there seems no end to it.
The descent to the coast brought us to the town of Chiavari where we suffered another puncture. It was soon mended, and we were back in business half an hour later. The coast road reminded me of Dawlish in Devon where the road also runs through numerous tunnels through the cliffs. Genoa, of Columbus fame was reached at about three o’clock. It was a much larger city than I had thought – it took ages to drive through. Once through, we had twenty-five miles of good Autostrada to drive on.
It was while we were on this road that dusk began to creep in. I was faced with the prospect of an eighty mile drive in the dark, a prospect I did not relish due to the large number of heavy lorries using the road. The good road made it easier though, and we made good time to San Remo where I handed over to Allan having been at the wheel for six hours. I felt very tired.
From San Remo to the French-Italian border is only seventeen miles. Customs formalities were almost non-existant. The French merely asked “English? Ca va,” and we were through, putting us on the road to Menton, two and a half miles away, our stopping point for the night.
We did not find the expected camping site but in Roquebrune, we happened to meet the owner of a campsite and we were in.
We had just erected the tent when we noticed we were right next to a railway line. Sure enough, five minutes later our first train wheezed and rumbled through on the line above us, shaking the ground as it passed. It had relatives too, and if I sleep tonight I shall be very surprised. A final note before closing. A short distance away is Monte Carlo. Goodnight.
Speedo reading: 17597. 241 mls. (4053)