Months have passed since I last updated this blog, and it's been almost 4 weeks since we flew back in to Gatwick from our 11-day jaunt round the Mediterranean, so it's probably time for a write-up before the warm glow of my holiday memories is frozen forever by the onset of winter. Our main home in Italy was La Casella, pictured below, an "agriturismo" (guest farmhouse) situated south-east of Siena, near the border of Tuscany and Umbria. We flew out on the Ryanair red-eye from Stansted, thanks to a 4am pick-up from my Dad (legend!), and found ourselves frazzled and facing a 4-stop train journey at Pisa airport. Our first hurdle was the huge queue at the ticket office, where one desk was open despite the huge demand and there was no sign of self-service machines and people pushing in willy nilly. We even had to pay a commission charge for the privilege. Benvenuto in Italia!
After all that fuss, our journey was pretty seamless and we discovered straight away how much Italians love babies, with lots of cooing and smiles, even from the conductor on the Empoli to Siena line. Three hours later we rolled in to our destination, Sinalunga, to be welcomed by Jamie & Kath and then escorted back to La Casella. We had an airy, spacious room and there were views all around of the rolling Tuscan hills. Not stopping to unpack, we cracked open a beer and soaked up the sun. Perfect. Several beers, endless local red wine and a BBQ later, we rolled into bed and caught up on some much needed rest. Next morning, after Ruth discovered some white pants left by the previous guests, we headed outside to start our morning routine of circuits, led by Jamie's sister Sophie. This worked up a hunger for breakfast, and also made us feel less guilty about spending most of the day relaxing in a hammock and reading.
Relaxing in the sunshine, reading and red wine were some of the key components of the holiday, but the overriding theme was fantastic food. On the second night we all headed to Montefollonico to a restaurant called 13 Gobbi, which served up simple and delicious fare, including pasta tossed in a wheel of pecorino cheese by the owner, some real food theatre. For some reason, I chose pici (thick, noodle-like pasta) in breadcrumbs. It was ... interesting. The fresh tomatoes and wild boar served on bruschetta were a much better choice. We also had a wonderful lunch at an "alimentari" in Castelmuzio (I think), where we were served huge plates of various cheeses, meats, fruits and breads in the dappled sunshine.
Other highlights were a day trip to Pienza, afternoon swims at the local pool, playing boules at sunset, a day trip to Siena, evening meals with copious wine, beefy juicy tomatoes, six days of unbroken sunshine and the wonderful company, not least Rosie and Jacob. We were very sad to move on but had more adventures in store and 5 more nights of our holiday. On the Thursday morning, we said our goodbyes and made a swift exit after Rosie broke several serving plates, taking the train from Sinalunga to Genoa. We stopped off in Siena to bid farewell to Jamie & Kath, and have a final gelato together while taking in the glory of the Campo dei Fiori, before hotfooting it back to the station and making our train by seconds, causing us to sweat for at least half an hour as we ventured north.
Again, our journey was seamless and inexpensive. Italian trains are truly a joy. We arrived quite late in Genoa and managed to find our hotel without a map, and were greeted by the lovely Fulvia at B&B Blue. Highly recommended if you're ever stopping over in Genoa and seeking an affordable, welcoming option. We then headed out for pizza and a final gelato for Ruth, before hitting the sack. Next morning, we took the train to the French border at Ventimiglia and crossed without having our passports checked, the only problem was finding somewhere to buy tickets. I avoided the queue and went to the travel agency, where we bought tickets to our destination Agay, which involved changes at Monaco and Nice. As we pulled in to the stop just before Agay, Antheor Cap Roux, I suddenly spotted our hotel and so we had to quickly jump off, with a large suitcase, two small cases, a rucksack, pushchair and Rosie. We were exhausted after all our train exploits but the view across Antheor Bay was welcome.
Our hotel was just 50m from the beach and called Les Flots Bleus. There was a nervous moment at reception when they couldn't find my reservation - I hadn't confirmed apparently, which was nonsense - but they managed to fit us in for 3 nights, at the demi-pension (half-board) rate of €115 per night. This turned out to be really good value given the quality of the breakfasts and evening meals, the latter served on the terrace with views over the Med. Highlights were the veal and osso buco, and the house rosé wasn't half bad either. Rosie enjoyed the scenery from her high chair too, but the 7pm start meant she got a little crabby and loud by the end of the meal. Thankfully some of our fellow dinners had children too and we never felt like outcasts. The best feature of the hotel was the proximity to the beach, and we loved the simple routine of breakfast, beach, lunch, beach, dinner on the terrace, bed. Although the sea was a little chilly, Rosie had a ball.
But all good things come to an end. We spent our last night in the airport Ibis hotel in Marseille after more train travel - this time we were "fined" €20 for boarding an earlier train from St Raphael to Marseille, even though the self-service machine left us no other option. Flipping self-important SNCF conductors. The food that evening in the hotel restaurant wasn't quite up to par either, and Rosie decided to spend most of the night rolling around and screaming, so we weren't in the best state for our flight next morning on British Airways to Gatwick. It was a relief though not to be flying Ryanair, and all the worries about baggage allowance that go with it. Once back home, after more trains to London Bridge and back to Blackheath, we breathed a sigh of relief after an epic journey all in all.
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