Computer says 'no' again

Umbrian countryside

We left Matera with a mental image of the blue building we should be looking for in Bari to book a passage for Greece. We had seen the photo on two blogs – Bari likes to keep things subtle and there was no sign anywhere for a big shipping ferry at the port and we were thankful people had helpfully shared their experiences of what to look for.

Bari also likes to make a puzzle of its roading network and before we had even hit the main chaos of roadworks and closed roads, we were in a quarry surrounded by clouds of dust and large noisy trucks. We followed a big truck that looked to be leaving and arrived back on the correct road.

Eventually we arrived at the port and squeezed past trucks from Bulgaria and Romania to find the mystical blue building – it was just like the photo – no logo or signs.  We parked right in front, but our expectant expressions changed when ‘computer says NO’.  No passages available for days.

Truffi houses, Alberobello

We re-booted, decided not to go to Greece but spend some time in Puglia. Lonely Planet said “Alberobello”, so off we went, satnav said “go up narrow street with badly parked Range Rover”. Two heads hanging out the windows checking the clearance – only just enough room before having to reverse back down a restricted entry street.  My job was standing in the street stopping traffic as I was in loco reversing-camera (which is a piece of %#*&^, Stuart says).

I was already off Alberobello and that was before I saw the parades of tour coaches and vendors of tat. All the tat seemed to be the same, and surely of a nature that no one would want.  

To be fair, Alberobello is unique with lots of Truffi houses cascading down the hillside. The Truffi houses are round with roofs made of flat overlapping stones. To avoid a large tax the roofs must be dismantled every so often (don’t know time frame) and rebuilt. Their appearance is somewhat hobbit like. 

Alberobello

We were looking for a bit of time out from travelling so off we set for the Adriatic coast.

We stopped for lunch near a beach in one truly abysmal town that had every layby filled with rubbish. We heard a vehicle pull up behind us. Nec minit, there was a knock on our door and three expat Kiwis living in Aus were chatting with us.  Our truck has large lettering -  New Zealand, Australia and Great Britain on the back and that caught their eye. Goodness knows there were NO other tourists, Italian or otherwise, within a 50km radius of the hideous place.

We stopped for a re-stock at my favourite chain, Lidl, there was a savvy stray dog who followed shoppers to their cars. It was obviously a move that had paid off in the past. Full up with good priced wine and beer plus assorted cheeses, we hit the highway. I kept seeing prostitutes on the roadside, I can’t imagine the life they must be forced to live, made even more miserable when standing in rain.

Lucera

Lucera was marked on our maps and in the Camperstop book as a town worth visiting. It is an old town with a large 14C castle and regulation Duomo. We found a good spot in front of the castle, sidled up to a large German Carthago motorhome as their unchosen friend, and made ourselves at home for the night with some nice basil and ricotta ravioli served with asparagus for dinner.

Jane paddling in the Adriatic

Still searching for the slice of paradise, we gave the coast a couple more chances but unfortunately we didn’t find an undiscovered gem, or any gem, come to that. 

The sea was a lovely temperature, but I was dismayed to see the amount of plastic washed up on the shores of the un-groomed beaches.

It was a very long drive to Norcia, the distance wasn’t great but it took a long time as there were no major roads in the area. The truck rattled and shook on the potholed roads and when we finally saw the turn off it was blocked. We had to carry on for another hour to the next turn off, we passed the reason for the road block – earthquake damage. Houses had collapsed down the hillsides and shipping containers were protecting the road from slips. When we finally reach the esteemed Norcia we found it red-zoned, and there were props and scaffolding holding up the ancient churches and medieval walls. Norcia is famous for truffles and salami made from acorn-fed local pigs which were on offer in the remaining shops. Temporary houses and temporary shops had been erected to accommodate the people affected by the earthquake.

Spoleto

We ticked off a few more pretty Umbrian towns with their ancient stone walls, immaculately swept marble streets and restored churches, and diners enjoying dinner in the warm evenings.  Assisi was the last one.

It was hot as we climbed higher and higher to the Basilica. Sweat was trickling down my back as the temperature went past 30 degrees on my way to see St Francis’ tomb. We were not by ourselves that hot Sunday afternoon as tour buses disgorged masses of sightseers and pilgrims. But wait, there is more – more churches higher up and a fort or two as well. “I read that the view is really good from the top” himself said.

St Francis was born in Assisi in 1181 into a wealthy family before renouncing the pleasure seeking lifestyle to live a humble life in imitation of Christ. The glorious churches and robust souvenir industry we saw in Assisi are an ironic comment on Francis’ values.

Street scene

Chianti in Tuscany is calling and we have a little time up our sleeves given that Greece is off the agenda so we will head in that direction and see what it throws at us.

Under The Tuscan Clouds

Roma – bright and sunny. The breakfast lady at the hotel made a rose from a serviette for Stuart to give me for mothers’ day. When he handed it to me she cried ‘allora – you need to give baci (kiss).  The hotel was a short walking distance to the storico centro (historic centre). In no time we were at the Colesseum fending off the sellers of selfie sticks and scarves.

The Pope catching a few rays

We struggled with our cases, that are over burdened with electronic gear and devices, to the train. Our home for the next 9 weeks was waiting near San Gimignano in Tuscany and small panic started to set in as our GPS didn’t let us know how far we were from our stop – that plus the malfunctioning exit door made for a nervous trip. All was restored however that evening when we found a nice restaurant and a bottle of Chianti Classico. I had pasta purses containing pear and gorgonzola in a poppy seed, pinenut cream sauce while Stuart had gnocchi made from little purple potatoes in a saffron sauce.

A taxi delivered us to collect our white wagon with purple logos from the Rollerteam factory. It is a similar layout to Chausson but without the garage, so makes for less ass to swing around. We weren’t allowed to take it away however until I spent a penny. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised when our account showed we owed one penny and ‘computer says no’. I had to use my credit card to pay the penny before harmony was restored.

The camper is new and belongs to a British based company, it comes equipped with the basics that we need for a trip.  We were directed 4km up the road to a supermarket to buy the rest.  Twenty kilometres later we were back where we started without finding a supermarket. Should have used the devices!

Cortona is a hilltop town, the setting for the movie “Under the Tuscan Sun”. Absolutely gorgeous and immaculate. Art exhibitions, restored churches, little shops , nice cafes – just what ticks my checklists. We navigated there very successfully using 2 x GPS apps and 2.5 kilos of reference maps. (The other 2.5 kilos of books are waiting their turn.) The countryside has pencil cypress and those ‘mop top’ pines that are typical of Italy artfully placed across vistas coloured with poppies and fluffy barley.

Our old GPS has a penchant for narrow unpaved roads but we aren’t quite confident enough to cut the apron strings so we have both devices glued to the windscreen until we let the new guy take over and give ‘Karen’ the backseat.

Tuscany in May is very green, a different scene from late summer when everything is a dusty gold colour to match the houses. It seems like a different place to us altogether, no Tuscan sun though – little patches of blue but a lot of grey cloud.

Orvieto was hiding in the cloud when we arrived, we parked in the sosta (camp spot) at the base of the town, which is perched on a volcanic outcrop, and took the funicular into the stunning historic centre . Has to be one of THE best towns in Umbria and Italy.

It was in Orvieto that we chanced across “The most beautiful race in the world” – the Mille Miglia. Stuart was blown away. The opening act was a parade of new maxi-specced Ferraris and racing Mercedes rolling through the old streets.  The drivers obliged the crowds by letting rip some ear-splitting revs which reverberated off the ancient stone walls. Participation in the race is for cars built pre 1957 which had attended the original race on the Brescia-Rome round trip race.

80s Ferrari Testarossa - an older 'modern'

We waited in drizzle for the oldies to come through – vintage Alfa Romeos, Bughattis, gull wing Mercedes and other vintage racing cars passed us with inches to spare and it looked as if some drivers had tenuous control so I moved position.

 

Gull wings waiting their turn

The next morning was clear and bright as we unplugged our power, emptied the waste, took on fresh water and took to the pay-road (yes – Euros were spent) to get to Pompeii. We rattled and squeezed through the streets clogged with tour buses and their passengers. Pompeii was probably best seen as we managed it – in the very late afternoon. The site was vast – much bigger than I imagined and I started to glaze over after a while.  The sun was lowering as we made our way back to one of the grottier camps we have stayed at, and no love lost from madam in reception as I argued for possession of our passports.  I won that one but failed to get a receipt for payment.

Pompeiied out – we rattled our way (did I say the streets are in appalling condition) to a hypermarket to ponder the question of buying bikes.  We settled for a couple of deck chairs instead.

Pompeii street

After a very long trip trip to Venosa (again appalling roads with Stuart dodging the worst of the potholes and earthquake subsidence, we ended up in a sosta with 20 Dutch mohomes. They made us welcome (we are always glad to see the Dutch as they are mines of information and speak excellent English). In front of us was a view of the historic centre of Venosa, behind us was a carwash that the Italians must regard as a novelty as they washed well after dark. Dinner with squishing squirting noises.

Matera is about 70km from the eastern coast of Italy (near Bari) and I had wanted to see it after seeing a programme on the telly. It is one of the oldest towns in the world (people have lived here for over 7000 years). The town sits on a series of caves that used to house animals and fodder until the population outgrew available housing and people moved into the caves to live a peasant lifestyle. Conditions were poor and infant mortality was over 50%. In 1952 half the population of Matera (15,000) were forced to move out of the caves and into new government housing.

Matera

We walked the slippery marble streets of Matera viewing it from many angles along with a fair few other tourists as the caves are now the major drawcard for the town -  a bit of a turnaround in the fortunes of Matera.

Next stage - onto Greece.