I can’t believe I left so much out of my previous ramble! So I didn’t tell you about visiting Pienza, where Dustin Hoffman was filming a TV series about the Medicis; no, we didn’t see him, just some rather bored actors and numerous backstage bods setting up a square to make it look suitably authentic. Pienza is a lovely little town on the borders of Tuscany and Umbria which was largely rebuilt by a Pope Pius (geddit?) on an ego trip. Needless to say it had its share of pan rests and olive bottles but it was a pretty place with good food and strange pasta called ‘Pici’.
Nor did I tell you about driving down from the hills above Norcia, which lay in a valley below ringed by mountains and covered by a thick layer of cloud. It was like flying above the clouds in the sunshine and needless to say I broke into ‘Volare’, much to Alan’s chagrin. Mind you, he shuddered even more when I switched to ‘The hills are alive to the sound of music….’
I can only put such oversight down to the loss of my handbag near Rome last Thursday, which was one of the most stressful experiences of my life but let’s get there gradually.
I think I was last seen eating sausage (?) on the outskirts of Norcia…… Well, sausage duly eaten, we looked at the map and decided to head towards the coast in Lazio, as I was due to fly out of Rome at the end of the week. So we aimed for Rieti in northern Lazio as a waypoint. By this time we had had enough of mountain passes so we thought we’d take the easier, longer route. Trouble was, when we got to Leonessa, the road which showed up as ‘unadopted’ or ‘tricky’ or something similar, looked interesting and all we had to do was hop over the top, rather than taking the long way round. So of course we took it.
Down this lovely road with enchanting autumn colours we went and then the road got narrower and we started to go up and up and round and round, with signs of falling rocks and a great overhanging rockface and then……the road was closed. Except it wasn’t …..a motorcyclist came through and said it was fine, so off we set, hands clenched (well mine were, Alan was driving….) trying not to think about rockfalls and ignoring the large hairnet type structures on the rock faces. ‘Well’ says husband cheerfully, ‘ if it’s going to happen, it will. Not much you can do about it really….’ as I debated the pros and cons of wearing a seatbelt on a hairy mountain pass with tight bends but imminent rockfall…..
Well, we obviously made it through and very beautiful it was too. Very few cars (there’s a surprise) and very still and peaceful. We rather regretted not staying the night up there, as we hunkered down for the night in a slightly grotty camperstop, yards from a four lane highway in Rieti. I can’t say much about Rieti. I don’t think I’d rush back but then we were very tired and didn’t have the energy to explore the delights of this small town on a Sunday evening. It did have some interesting old walls…..so I’m sure there’s a historic centre tucked away there, far from the thundering traffic.
All roads really do seem to lead to Rome in this part of Italy. We had no particular wish to visit it at this point in our journey (ha! see later) and we managed, with some difficulty, to find a way round it to the coast. Unfortunately this involved driving through some pretty grim towns which seemed to be endless and full of traffic. As we drove onwards, the driving became more aggressive and assertive, with cars just pulling out in front of us or turning across our path. I hasten to add, we weren’t singled out for this treatment, everyone did it! Bigger, fatter, let’s join in with our 3.5 tons! So we did, after all, if you can’t beat them……
We fondly thought we’d have a couple of days on the coast but you try finding that coast!
‘The coast between Terracina and Sperlonga is probably the prettiest stretch in Lazio’ said the guidebook. Yes, it’s there but just you try getting to the actual beach! It’s all private roads which are cordoned off for mile upon mile upon mile…..we eventually did find a nice quiet little road leading to the beach near Fondi where we parked for a couple of nights. The beaches were deserted and beautiful. The backs of the houses hogging the beach were all fenced off and I thought what a complete waste of space this was, depriving hundreds of people of access. You have to be intrepid/resourceful/persistent/local to reach the beaches. Never mind, we had a lovely sunny day there, just like an English summer’s day and Alan swam in the breakers.
We had the same problem the following day, just south of Lido di Ostia. Again, we’d driven north past Anzio, along a rather grotty strip of coastal towns and resorts, which were dull and ugly out of season. Again, we could see the sea but not get there; then we happened upon a series of gates and a long stretch of public beach. So we set up camp and it started to rain and the dark set in. Some damp, intrepid cyclists rode past and set up camp on the beach. Poor souls, there was the mother and father of a thunderstorm that night and we snuggled down under our duvet as the thunder cracked overhead and the rain pelted on the roof.
Next morning, after coffee at the bar with the cyclists, we set off again to see my friend Veronica in Lido di Ostia. Disaster struck. After chatting cheerfully at the gas pump, I went to get my bag, which wasn’t in its normal place in the Land Rover. ‘Never mind’ I said airily, ‘it’s in the van.’ It wasn’t and I felt increasingly sick as we searched everywhere. Nothing. My major concern was catching my flight at 6.30 am next day, without a passport or boarding pass, all gone……
I won’t bore you with the detail of what I lost and I still don’t know where I left my bag, for that is what must have happened. Don’t ask me why my spare ‘safe’ purse was in my bag, not safely in the cupboard. Suffice it to say, it was the most horrible, stressful day. My dear friend Veronica gave us coffee and comfort before we roared off and I hopped on a train into Rome and the Embassy. How disappointing.
Trying to organise my ’emergency document’ aka emergency passport was challenging, I love Rome but modern Romans are not the most helpful people and trying to work out how train tickets are validated, where to find a photo booth, where to get change, where the Embassy is, let alone how to get in the entrance was time consuming and hot. I was red faced for my photo (enchanting) and even hotter when I eventually got into the Embassy. Don’t ask about having to leave iPhones in reception and then being asked questions whose answers are all on the iPhone downstairs. Never mind, the guy who helped me was great and I left 2 hours later with said emergency document. The final straw was heading for platform 15 to catch a train to Ciampino and discovering that the numbers went 11, 12, 13, 14, 16. I could not believe my eyes. I gave up and caught another train. Let’s just say Rome is chaotic.
Ciampino is not the loveliest place in the world but we had a good place to stay, a really helpful guy running it and found a great pizzeria. And yes I still had to pack……..yawn………
And so it was, that I arose from my bed at 3.50 the following morning and went off to catch my early plane to Cyprus, armed with emergency document and electronic boarding pass. It all worked, hooray! I even had a really kind woman on the Ryanair check in desk! Is this a first?
As I flew out of Italy, I cheered myself up by thinking: at least I’ve still got my phone and iPad, it was easy to sort out being in Rome and it’s the first time I’ve lost my bag in a reasonably long life so far. Let’s hope it’s the last!