Tuesday 12 Wednesday 13 November 2024
Tuesday
was a last wander down the street of Sorrento and home to pack. We cooked a delightful
dinner of fresh fish and rose early to discover it was raining. This is the
first rain we have had since arriving in Italy but we caught the crowded bus to
the station; made sure we purchased tickets; and headed off to Garabaldi
station to catch the fast train to Firenze and the bus to San Gimignano.
After
our experience with the tram, Flashy made sure his ticket was in the zip up
pocket of this vest. A good thing too, as the crowded train made for the
turn styles back at Naples Garaboldi Statizione, there was the Army, Police, Train Security and God knows who else,
demanding to see tickets. Lady P flashes hers. Flashy can’t find his! The
crowds surge around us. The security rub their pistols. Flashy is almost naked
by now looking for the ticket. Hard to describe Lady P’s demeanour by now.
Flashy has visions of an Italian gaol. By this time, the good looking Italian
copper simply waves us through to avoid any more blocking of the crowds.
After
a kindly, understanding talk by Lady P, Flashy puts his hand into the vest only
to discover the ticket. “here it is,” he says. Not amused Jan! It must have got
stuck in the folds or some such.
The train to Firenze was very comfortable and we get out one station before to get the bus to SG, in once again, sunshine. This time, we buy a ticket from the tabacchi and store this in a secure location and walk out the front to the bus stop.
Mild panic starts in the gathered passengers at the bus stop
as the scheduled 133 Bus to SG does not arrive. It does come late and we all clamber
aboard as it is now getting dark. Our paper tickets don’t scan to validate. No
worries, the bus driver folds Lady P's in half and says something like ‘stuff em in
the reader.’ Sure enough, this probably worked. Although Flashy noticed the
little green light did not come on.
We
survived the trip into SG without another ticket inspector. Our BnB is very
nice, with a large bedroom/ensuite, lounge and kitchen. The walled old town is
beautifully kept but, given the time of year, is eerily quiet with only a few shops
and restaurants open. Some closing at 6.00 pm and others at 8.00 pm but we
manage.
Some
in the party have a rule about not eating at places where there are no people.
Flashy does not always adhere to this rule and decided that the large but empty
restaurant on the abandoned square would suffice. Firstly, there were heaters
over the outside seats and secondly, their wine list was extensive.
By the time we had finished our Negronis, the place had filled up outside. It was 7C! This restaurant Bar La Cisterna, sold their wines by the glass, ¼ and half litre carafes and by the bottle. So, for example you could have a little carafe of white then a big carafe of red with your nice spicy pizza.
At last a pizza with flavour, chilli oil on the side and stiff as a board. The owner, probably recognising Flashy’s reasonable attempt at Italian and the fact that he was largely responsible for the crowd filling his restaurant, shook his hand when we left. We crashed at 8.30 pm, after a long travel day, constantly in fear of the transport police.
Comments
Post a Comment