Up at 7.30 and made the tea. It has been raining intermittently throughout the night with several heavy thunderstorms. I didn’t know Italy had a rainy season, but if they do, this must be it for we have certainly caught it.Since we arrived. Just before I got up came the heaviest downpour of the lot. It is certainly a depressing feeling knowing that we shall soon be dismantling heavy, wet equipment. For me now, the tour is nearly over. I get the feeling that after Rome, everything will be anti-climatic. I shall be glad to be on the plane bound for Jersey. Perhaps a month of continuous touring is just a little too long – maybe by a week. It could be the rain which has dampened my spirits for after all Monte Carlo and the French Riviera lie ahead. Mood of the moment, so to speak. Whatever it is, I am not sorry. We have accomplished what few people manage to do in a lifetime and I for one, will be eternally grateful. I have always maintained that the world is there to be seen (bold words), and I’ve been able to live up to this maxim – so far!
9.50 am. Another cloudburst sends us on our way again. – The streets in Rome were flooded to a depth of two or three inches. There is no sign of a break. Fortunately, in the daylight we had no trouble finding our way out of Rome, and set off for Siena, the next fair sized town before Florence. The rain was torrential, so much that it resembled fog. The roads and fields were again flooded. But the Fiat – on home ground – came through without giving us the least cause for worry. The rain then developed into hail. What next, we asked ourselves. Mercifully, it didn’t last very long. But it was nearly two hours before the weather began to clear up. Thankfully the cloudbelt was now only to be seen in the rearview mirror. Although the conditions were nothing to write home about, it was like Paradise after Purgatory. We are – or were in the province of Tuscany, a name that crops up throughout the centuries in the history of Europe. The countryside was worth of a Constable painting in this late autumn. It is well wooded. The trees were painted with radiant hues of greens and golds, yellows and browns. The road, naturally enough is an old Roman road that has been repaired and re-repaired over the centuries. At intervals can be seen the remains of Roman walls at the roadside. Some of them are still in very good condition, and are still being used. No need to repair them yet! Even the cuttings through the rock to enable the road to pass through, are still the original cuttings. We drove on, through village after village. Some of the houses, which are still lived in, look much older than medieval. Sutri is one of these villages. It is the supposed birthplace of Pontius Pilate. The city walls, built in the middle ages are still intact. They are almost in original condition, though doubtless helped by a few modern bricks and mortar here and there. Viterbo was another fine example. An amusing Sight in most of these villages was of women walking along with baskets on their heads containing washing Or other goods. They never dropped anything either. – at least not while we were there! Leaving the towns behind, the countryside reminded me of the Lake Distict, complete with its own lake – Lake Bolsano. ' The sun was even shining by now. In the town of Bolsano, we saw some of the ancient catacombs which sheltered the early Christians. Although the scenery was very pretty, the hilly and winding road was very hard on the driver – me! When I handed over to Allan at Siena I had driven 160 miles. It felt, like a 1060!
Before the Romans appeared on the scene, there were the Etruscans, about whose civilisation we know little, having being absorbed by the Romans. We do know that Siena was one of their cities.
Siena-is a city built on a hill. It is fascinating. Narrow streets with no pavements. City walls; cathedrals dating back to the 13th. Century; many buildings of the 14th. Century. In fact, take away the cars and you could be right back in the Middle Ages. I think today was one of the most interesting days of all.
5 pm. We reached Florence. The dusk was being helped along by the gathering heavy clouds. Portentious of another storm? Pisa, of Leaning Tower fame was our goal for today. So, sadly there was no chance of exploring. Florence. What we did see impressed us favourably. It was clean, unlike a lot of towns. Its ancient buildings were not defaced in any way. Florence, like Viterbo and Siena is walled, the walls being in magnificent condition. That is just about all we saw of Florence. The rest will have to be reserved for the future. – Just before Florence is the town of Tavarozze. There is a large American war cemetary there – a memorial to their war dead. For each soldier, there is a white marble cross in the vast lawn. At one end of the cemetary is a four walled structure. There, on one of these walls, perhaps thirty yards long are the names of each soldier killed, inscribed in marble blocks. On the other walls are details of the Italian campaign with appropriate maps. I knew not one of those boys, but the sadness and waste of it all hangs in the air and touches – I should hope – everyone who sees it, as it touched me this day. “They died for their country.” “They gave their lives.” I think not. The Autostrada out of Florence is not yet complete. Only half of it is in use while the other half is being built.
Several miles out we felt a bumping from one of the rear tyres which steadily grew worse. We stopped. The split, which had puctured the tyre in Athens was now about two inches long – it was in danger of blowing. We changed it just in time to dodge another heavy shower. Now the tyre is only good as a stop-gap. But if it had blown it would have been no use at all.
A little further on, traffic had stopped. There had been an accident between a car and a motorcycle. People were Standing in a group around the scene. We got out to take a look. Allan strode on in front of me. About halfway there I turned around, feeling that there were enough people there to help if needed. Furthermore, I felt that if there was anything unpleasant to be seen, I didn’t want to be classed as a goulish spectator. After it was all over, Allan told me that I could have helped because no one watching offered to. Allan assisted the injured motorcyclist into someone’s car. He was then driven off to hospital.
“He seems in a bad way,” said Allan as we left the scene.
That was the third accident we have seen in three days; two in Naples, and this one and all involving motorcycles. I hate the damn things. I will never forget the one I bought when I was in the – RAF. It was an old racing bike. One day I took it up onto the perimeter track, and opened the throttle. It just got faster and faster and faster never reached a cruising speed. That was the first and last time!
6.15 pm. Reached Pisa safely. However, we found to our disgust that the official camping site was closed for the winter. Dark now, and we had to find a site. Minor roads always seem to offer the best chances, and the side road we found was no exception. Trouble was, this one seemed to be a lovers’ lane for we passed several cars parked with the occupants taking up about half the available seat space!
Just as we nearly had the tent up, down came – you’ve guessed it – the RAIN! Luckily, we were able to erect the tent before we got too wet.
Dinner behind us, we are now ready to close up shutters. The rain has stopped and there is no wind – amazing! One point of interest. Just down the road – about half a mile away – is the Leaning Tower of Pisa. How about that for a camp site? Goodnight.
Speedo reading: 17356. 269 mls. (3812)