- A summary of another experience with the hospital system in Italy
Two weeks ago we had a fascinating day experiencing Formula 1 first hand at the home Italian motor racing in Monza, Milano. It was a truly Italian experience, even though the majority of the group we were with were American. But that’s another story!
After a stunning day and just as it came time to leave the track the heavens opened! Being a long way from where we had parked – so far in fact that we had had to take taxis to reach the gate – the decision was made to walk back to the carpark cutting the long way through the inside of the track. Hmm... does this sound like a good plan? As no-one actually knew where we were going we were (patiently and politely) at the mercy of the Man in charge. We got lost. After an hour of this and now completely devoid of patience I told my husband I had a map and I’d had enough. Blow being polite any longer I was getting us out of there. Too late – good manners returned and so we continued the trail realising that we were at least finally heading in the correct direction. Sodden, stressed, and tired we wound our way through the crowds making for the exit. Suddenly I realised Caitlin wasn’t keeping up... Her body had had enough.
A quick assessment of the situation showed Caitlin to be having difficulty breathing, having some pain in her chest. She was dizzy, disoriented, nauseous, headachy and just before I could get her body to a seat she fainted! Two of the other mums in the group quickly picked up on the situation and came back to help. We needed to get Caitlin out of the eweather and back to car pronto. My dear friend Missy, a real take-charge gal, tried to get help from the local police to no avail... an ambulance was all they could offer. Not to be beaten she flagged down a passing support crew van and asked them to take Caitlin and I to the exit gate. Happy to help they allowed us to climb in. After a short and memorable altercation with a typically arrogant carabinniere officer whose car we were blocking in order to get Caitlin on board, we u-turned and headed for the gate.
Although Caitlin seemed much better after a warm shower and a change of clothes at a nearby friend’s house she remained very tired, dizzy and headachy. Spending most of Sunday resting provided no improvement. We headed off to the doctor’s surgery on Monday morning... and so it began... ultrasound of her thyroid and blood tests on Tuesday morning... back to the doctor Thursday who insisted we go to the Pronto Socorso (Italian equivalent of A&E or Emergency Room) for a CAT scan. Unfortunately we went to the wrong Pronto Socorso – we should have gone to the one at the Children’s hospital – not the one at the main hospital – Who knew????
After several arguments with staff (thanks Silvia our translator – what would I do without you!) they agreed to do the requested CAT scan at the main hospital. But. We would then have to be seen by the paediatrician – at the Childrens’ hospital. And. We had to go by their ambulance. Eight hours, another fainting spell, many proddings and a CAT scan later they let us go home with instructions to be back at 9am the next morning.
Friday morning we were back at the children’s hospital (where there is almost no public parking) ready to wait to go by ambulance to the main hospital (where we could easily have parked the car). A visit to an ‘otoneuroligica’ specialist resulted in long waiting periods and many, many more examinations related to her ears. This man put Caitlin through an amazing battery of tests. The worst according to Caitlin required two electrodes to be attached to her lobes and a needle electrode to be inserted in her scalp. All tests proved negative except to confirm some high frequency hearing loss (which we already knew about). His final diagnosis was to take kava kava tablets and see a psychiatrist.
Back at the Pronoto Socorso in the Children’s hospital the paediatrician laughingly disagreed, pointing out that the gentleman was assuming that because he could find nothing where he was looking that nothing was actually wrong. The paediatrician felt there was still a long way to go before making any firm conclusion. More prodding and poking from the five medical staff in the room followed with Caitlin very considerately coming close to passing out again – giving a clear demonstration to the medicos of her low blood pressure and complimentary low heart rate – a bad combination!
Unfortunately the Ped’s next decision was to admit Caitlin so that her blood pressure and heart rate could be monitored more closely for 24 hours and an MRI booked for the following week. A few phone calls and we found ourselves in a hospital room. Hospitals are scary places to stay at the best of times but in a different culture and with a different language it can be quite frightening; Caitlin needed me to stay with her. This is obviously common as all the hospital beds have an accompanying a pullout bed for a parent to sleep on. Also with Caitlin’s often unexpected fainting spells we were told that she must not walk around without one or other of us beside her. That confirmed my booking! Barry packed a couple of small back packs with essential supplies and brought them to us.
Nothing of course is ever simple in Italy. No monitor applied all weekend and little sleep after Caitlin gained a roommate at 5am on Sunday morning; another adolescent girl who suffered from sleep apnoea. A children’s ward is filled with many small children and babies, none of whom are well and few of whom are happy, the sound of crying babies was a constant. Daily visits from the medical team top scored with 12 doctors of various levels plus the two bigwigs in one conference – creepy to be the centre of that much attention. More ultrasounds, a chest xray, tb Mantoux test, allergy prick tests, respiratory tests, urine collection, 24 hour blood pressure monitor... all conducted in full on Italian – right up until I spat the dummy! Caitlin was becoming more and more overwhelmed and suddenly the Mother Lioness sprang to the defence of her cub. NO MORE tests unless we clearly understand IN ENGLISH what is going on and why. Things improved rapidly with the medical staff doing their best in English and us confirming in broken Italian that we had got the correct message. The rest of the week settled into a routine of tests and waiting. Each evening after work and a quick dinner Barry would come up to the hospital for a couple of hours and I would go home for a shower (no towels in the hospital and no evening meals for parents) and a meal then back to swap over again. The enforced rest certain did Caitlin no physical harm but her frustration grew rapidly.
The MRI was finally booked for Friday and after more waiting... and another ambulance ride... and a 40 minute attempt in a broken machine... Caitlin finally got her MRI, an experience she vows NEVER to repeat, the noise being so loud she thought her eardrums would burst. More waiting for a return ambulance ride to the children’s hospital and another wait to get discharged. We eventually got to go home about 7pm Friday night with a discharge diagnosis of ‘headache with dizziness’ and instructions to see our own doctor again once we receive the final test results – by mail (by mail? In this country? With it’s awesome and predictably accurate postal system?).
A restful but getting more active weekend has seen Caitlin back at school this week. She has survived the first day with only one spell of feeling faint. Guess we’ll wait and see what the post brings us!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
The FIC Road Trip – Day 14 Sirmione and Home
Three generations of women on a two-week tour of Italy – the adventure concludes!
Thank goodness for a hotel with air conditioning and a good night’s sleep. It was hard to believe that this was our last morning and we would be home later in the day. Wandered down for a leisurely breakfast and then got ourselves tidied up and re-packed. Checked out and then gingerly opened the car, desperately hoping the clean-up job had worked and the car wouldn’t smell like a brewery. Success! The car smelt fine.
With our route home passing close to Lago Garda we thought we should at least make a visit to the shore. Using the map book we identified a spit of land that extends out into the lake. Setting the GPS for ‘Sirmione’ we were away. What a find!
We parked in a public carpark that seemed to be well out along the bar then walked on from there. Passing several touristy shops and some gorgeous hotels we suddenly came upon the castle, La Rocca Scaligeri. Named for the Della Scala family from Verona it was one of their family homes. Building began in 1277 and the fortress evolved over the next 100 odd years in four distinct stages finishing with the addition of the walled harbour.
Thank goodness for a hotel with air conditioning and a good night’s sleep. It was hard to believe that this was our last morning and we would be home later in the day. Wandered down for a leisurely breakfast and then got ourselves tidied up and re-packed. Checked out and then gingerly opened the car, desperately hoping the clean-up job had worked and the car wouldn’t smell like a brewery. Success! The car smelt fine.
With our route home passing close to Lago Garda we thought we should at least make a visit to the shore. Using the map book we identified a spit of land that extends out into the lake. Setting the GPS for ‘Sirmione’ we were away. What a find!
We parked in a public carpark that seemed to be well out along the bar then walked on from there. Passing several touristy shops and some gorgeous hotels we suddenly came upon the castle, La Rocca Scaligeri. Named for the Della Scala family from Verona it was one of their family homes. Building began in 1277 and the fortress evolved over the next 100 odd years in four distinct stages finishing with the addition of the walled harbour.
We crossed the moat and paying a small entrance fee began to explore the simple interior. There are three main levels to the castle; the ground floor, the walls and the high tower. Caitlin, Mum and I easily made it up the first set of 77 steps to the top of the surrounding walls and that was more than high enough for Caitlin. Turns out she is definitely her father’s daughter and has inherited his family aversion to heights.
Mum and I ventured on up to the next stage - the tall tower. This was much more of a challenge with some of the flights more like ladders than stairs. The view was definitely worth the effort required to clamber backwards down the ladders to reach Caitlin again.
From the walls the descent to the floor of the castle was easily made. Caitlin was mightily pleased although, getting her ‘grounded’ again took a little time and was greatly aided by a plastic bowl of delicious fresh melon and a paddle on the rocks.
Homeward bound we headed on the last leg of our grand expedition and two hours later the gates were at last in sight. As we pulled into the carpark we realised just how much we had been missed.
The FIC Road Trip – Day 13 Bologna and Verona
We coped with the heat and then dragged ourselves downstairs to a very marginal breakfast, hitting the road as soon as reasonable. Not a place to return to.
GPS not keen to be helpful but eventually re-joined our side on the road back to the autostrada. We took a detour into Bologna in search of a farmacia. Managed to find a carpark, a food spot and get back on the road – all without the help of the GPS who had packed up again.
More variations in architecture and landscape, intensely farmed land with more closely scattered buildings. With the GPS not working, we couldn’t risk getting off the autostrada to visit Modena, or Mantova, although both looked fascinating.
A refuel stop on the motorway topped up the car - and our tummies. And then, once again, with 40 km to go the GPS kicked back in. We found the hotel “Euromotel Croce Bianca” in Verona following both the emailed instructions and the GPS.
We discovered a lovely helpful guy in reception which was great, as I was in no mood to deal with anything else. As I had lifted one of the cases out of the boot of the car I broke one of the bottles from Alberobello (my favourite one!) all over the inside of the boot - DAMN!! Had to swiftly chuck everything out of the car onto the carpark and rinse the base out with bottled water. To top things off the first room we were offered in the hotel smelled of smoke so back downstairs we went - new room further down the corridor. Turned out to be a blessing in disguise as the new room was much bigger and had three good size beds. Good move! We all had a lie down for a rest and then caught a bus from outside the hotel into the city proper about 3.40.
We followed a walking itinerary from a map we got at the hotel. What a city! There was so much to see but heat and sore feet really meant we didn’t appreciate it as we should. We were almost tempted to get tickets to the Verona opera as Placido Domingo was singing to-night but, luckily, decided against it – we’d never have survived.
Our first stop off the bus was the Castel Vecchio, with the attached Ponte de Scagleri. The castle has a drawbridge and moat at the front and backed onto the river. The drawbridge is still there and we walked across it. The place is now a museum/gallery. The bridge was rebuilt in the 1950s after being destroyed by a German mine in 1945. As far as possible, original materials were used, and the original design followed. It is extraordinary. We walked across the bridge and back then wandered around the courtyard of the castle before moving on.
We decided to head towards our bus stop before grabbing a quick bit to eat. Poor and slow service followed – although the ‘people watching’ was fascinating!! They were all dressed up for the Opera.
Upon checking the bus sheet for final departure times and bus pick-up points I found we were on the wrong road for the last bus that would be stopping over the road from the hotel – Oh dear!!
Luckily there were two other bus numbers that stop relatively close to the hotel and we managed to catch one of these. With the help of an English speaking local on the bus we got off at the correct stop and walked/trudged/dragged our weary butts the last few blocks to bed. Caitlin and I entertained ourselves over this last stretch creating a story all about “Harry and his imaginary friend Charlie, a helephant, who both liked hairyplanes and helichopters!” Hee, hee, hee...
GPS not keen to be helpful but eventually re-joined our side on the road back to the autostrada. We took a detour into Bologna in search of a farmacia. Managed to find a carpark, a food spot and get back on the road – all without the help of the GPS who had packed up again.
More variations in architecture and landscape, intensely farmed land with more closely scattered buildings. With the GPS not working, we couldn’t risk getting off the autostrada to visit Modena, or Mantova, although both looked fascinating.
A refuel stop on the motorway topped up the car - and our tummies. And then, once again, with 40 km to go the GPS kicked back in. We found the hotel “Euromotel Croce Bianca” in Verona following both the emailed instructions and the GPS.
We discovered a lovely helpful guy in reception which was great, as I was in no mood to deal with anything else. As I had lifted one of the cases out of the boot of the car I broke one of the bottles from Alberobello (my favourite one!) all over the inside of the boot - DAMN!! Had to swiftly chuck everything out of the car onto the carpark and rinse the base out with bottled water. To top things off the first room we were offered in the hotel smelled of smoke so back downstairs we went - new room further down the corridor. Turned out to be a blessing in disguise as the new room was much bigger and had three good size beds. Good move! We all had a lie down for a rest and then caught a bus from outside the hotel into the city proper about 3.40.
We followed a walking itinerary from a map we got at the hotel. What a city! There was so much to see but heat and sore feet really meant we didn’t appreciate it as we should. We were almost tempted to get tickets to the Verona opera as Placido Domingo was singing to-night but, luckily, decided against it – we’d never have survived.
Our first stop off the bus was the Castel Vecchio, with the attached Ponte de Scagleri. The castle has a drawbridge and moat at the front and backed onto the river. The drawbridge is still there and we walked across it. The place is now a museum/gallery. The bridge was rebuilt in the 1950s after being destroyed by a German mine in 1945. As far as possible, original materials were used, and the original design followed. It is extraordinary. We walked across the bridge and back then wandered around the courtyard of the castle before moving on.
Next door is the Arc of Gavi –from the 1st century! To think of its age – what has passed before it? We passed a number of churches of course – before passing under a set of arches and into the old city proper. These gates are also from the 1st century and this is where taxes were levied and collected on goods passing into and out of the city. Roads either side of the gate go up quite steeply. This area has been deliberately kept at this level to keep the gates in use! 
The road from the gates, lined with expensive shops, led to the Piazza Erbe, once the heart of the city and named for the regular vegetable market held here. Whilst still maintaining its original length of 150m (two Roman blocks) its width of 75m has been greatly reduced with encroaching buildings. The central area is still a market but predominantly touristy. In desperation to escape the heat we sat at an outside bar where fine, fine sprays of mist drifted over us from jets under the umbrellas every 15-20 seconds – BLISS!!
More exceptional, but fortress like, buildings followed. Many have swallowtail Ghibelline merlons along the tops. What a war-like place! The buildings are on the most part well preserved although some have suffered from poor rebuilding.
Strange things hang from overhead arches between blocks – a whale rib near a pharmacy, examples of torture equipment to discourage bad behaviour. Much of this from Venetian times, but, most much earlier.
We passed a house purported to b the home of Romeo Montecchi the ‘real’ Romeo. Also visited the house dedicated to Juliet where we took photos beside her statue.
The Verona arena, or colosseum, is large - but not as large as the amphitheatre in Rome although built before it. The Verona arena could hold 30,000 people in its day - more than the population of the city at the time. Today the arena is back in use. Over the summer period it hosts a number of operas in the open. Exhausted at this point of the day we followed the curve of the arena, passed the displays of sets for the operas currently running, amazed at the enormous crowds of people.
Leaving the walls of Verona and finding that there is still a world out there, irrespective of Shakespeare’s claim;
"There is no world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself,
Hence banished is banish'd from the world,
and world's exile is death....."
We decided to head towards our bus stop before grabbing a quick bit to eat. Poor and slow service followed – although the ‘people watching’ was fascinating!! They were all dressed up for the Opera.Upon checking the bus sheet for final departure times and bus pick-up points I found we were on the wrong road for the last bus that would be stopping over the road from the hotel – Oh dear!!
Luckily there were two other bus numbers that stop relatively close to the hotel and we managed to catch one of these. With the help of an English speaking local on the bus we got off at the correct stop and walked/trudged/dragged our weary butts the last few blocks to bed. Caitlin and I entertained ourselves over this last stretch creating a story all about “Harry and his imaginary friend Charlie, a helephant, who both liked hairyplanes and helichopters!” Hee, hee, hee...
The FIC Road Trip – Day 12 Brisighella
Got underway as soon as reasonable after food, pack and check out. The GPS accepted the next destination and then worked for three minutes!
Back on the motorway and headed for Brisighella, we decided to detour to Cattolica where Mum had holidayed over 50 years ago. Scary place, so totally over run with humanity in all its forms. The question of the day was - should you still be wearing a bikini when the bikini top wraps around your middle in order to cover your nipples? You know your boobs have dropped when your swimsuit only comes half way up your torso and still covers your top bits. Scary, scary, scary.
The heat finally beat us and we had to seek sanctuary in the car. The GPS refused to work so we had to resort to Italian road signs to find the autostrada. Luckily - and very surprisingly - this worked.
Another hour or more of driving and the GPS kicked in - bless her - with 30 km to go, and took us straight to the door. Our hotel, “Albergo La Rocca”, is on the edge of the historic part of town. Imagine a hotel from the 1950s with no air conditioner, no fridge, dreadful curtains and wallpaper peeling. The pull-out bed had a huge dip in the centre and was not set up, nor were there sufficient towels or pillows. After a somewhat refreshing sleep... off we went in 40°C heat to find the information centre and a half decent map, something the hotel could not supply. This is a town moving towards tourism but not yet there.
Took a drinks break in a small cafe and watched television (cartoons in Italian) for a while so our bodies could cool down again.
Followed instructions from the map, and the information centre lady, to get to La Rocca, the medieval fortress overlooking the town, and on to the 6-hour clock (connected by a road not shown on the maps) ...only to discover both CLOSED. It’s the only reason we came here!!! They are only open Saturday, Sunday and public holidays. Too ridiculous for words. Still, we took what photos we could.
Like many clock towers in Italy this one works with two bells, one marking the hours and the other the ¼ hours. The hour bell gives one peal for each hour up to 6 a.m. then just one peal for 7 a.m., two for 8 a.m., you get the picture. It is supposed to be obvious to the locals that what the one chime means when they hear it. One can easily tell whether it is one in the afternoon or seven in the morning.
Another rest and we got dressed to go out for dinner down to a restaurant Caitlin had spotted beside the Memorial/Remembrance Park - gorgeous statue near the park with the huge stone ball fountain.
Dinner was great and before long the entire place was packed. We finished dessert and paid the bill then went in search of the free concert we’d seen advertised. Our ears led us to a delightful little church, brightly lit inside with magical playing by violinists, a harpsichordist and a classical guitarist. What a stunning end to our evening. We gently meandered back to the hotel stopping to photograph the ‘ass’s way’, and old covered road used by the donkeys carrying loads from the quarry - there must be a story there.
Arrived back at the hotel to be greeted by a woman and berated by some bloke; something about using the key to get in through another door. We’d been told we only needed that after midnight and it was only 11.20 so couldn’t understand the issue. Put a huge damper on an otherwise totally magical evening.
Another no air-con and another 3O+°C night...
Back on the motorway and headed for Brisighella, we decided to detour to Cattolica where Mum had holidayed over 50 years ago. Scary place, so totally over run with humanity in all its forms. The question of the day was - should you still be wearing a bikini when the bikini top wraps around your middle in order to cover your nipples? You know your boobs have dropped when your swimsuit only comes half way up your torso and still covers your top bits. Scary, scary, scary.
The heat finally beat us and we had to seek sanctuary in the car. The GPS refused to work so we had to resort to Italian road signs to find the autostrada. Luckily - and very surprisingly - this worked.
Another hour or more of driving and the GPS kicked in - bless her - with 30 km to go, and took us straight to the door. Our hotel, “Albergo La Rocca”, is on the edge of the historic part of town. Imagine a hotel from the 1950s with no air conditioner, no fridge, dreadful curtains and wallpaper peeling. The pull-out bed had a huge dip in the centre and was not set up, nor were there sufficient towels or pillows. After a somewhat refreshing sleep... off we went in 40°C heat to find the information centre and a half decent map, something the hotel could not supply. This is a town moving towards tourism but not yet there.
Took a drinks break in a small cafe and watched television (cartoons in Italian) for a while so our bodies could cool down again.
Followed instructions from the map, and the information centre lady, to get to La Rocca, the medieval fortress overlooking the town, and on to the 6-hour clock (connected by a road not shown on the maps) ...only to discover both CLOSED. It’s the only reason we came here!!! They are only open Saturday, Sunday and public holidays. Too ridiculous for words. Still, we took what photos we could.
Like many clock towers in Italy this one works with two bells, one marking the hours and the other the ¼ hours. The hour bell gives one peal for each hour up to 6 a.m. then just one peal for 7 a.m., two for 8 a.m., you get the picture. It is supposed to be obvious to the locals that what the one chime means when they hear it. One can easily tell whether it is one in the afternoon or seven in the morning.
Another rest and we got dressed to go out for dinner down to a restaurant Caitlin had spotted beside the Memorial/Remembrance Park - gorgeous statue near the park with the huge stone ball fountain.
Dinner was great and before long the entire place was packed. We finished dessert and paid the bill then went in search of the free concert we’d seen advertised. Our ears led us to a delightful little church, brightly lit inside with magical playing by violinists, a harpsichordist and a classical guitarist. What a stunning end to our evening. We gently meandered back to the hotel stopping to photograph the ‘ass’s way’, and old covered road used by the donkeys carrying loads from the quarry - there must be a story there.
Arrived back at the hotel to be greeted by a woman and berated by some bloke; something about using the key to get in through another door. We’d been told we only needed that after midnight and it was only 11.20 so couldn’t understand the issue. Put a huge damper on an otherwise totally magical evening.
Another no air-con and another 3O+°C night...
The FIC Road Trip – Day 11 Termoli, Loreto and Porto Recanati
Three generations of women on a two-week tour of Italy – the adventure continues!
Got up early after being awakened before 7 by some beggar thumping away with a hammer... not best pleased I can tell you. Still, it got me up and moving. Quick shower and dressed and back up to photograph the row of five trulli with their signs on the roofs. Great shot with the sun fully on them, the streets clear of people and the shop junk not yet on display.
Wandered back and go everyone underway. Once we packed up we walked the bags down the path to the main road. Mum and Caitlin stayed with the bags whilst I got the car. Did an ‘Italian’ and swung in to park on the wrong side of the road so we could pack the car. The GPS co-operated long enough to get us back to the office where we parked and had breakfast at a nearby cafe. After light brekkie we checked out and set course for Loreto (had to select by postcode as there are lots of places called Loreto in Italy). With five hours of driving ahead we got started.
The changes in landscape over the journey on this day were marked - red earth, stone, olives and cacti in Puglia; verdant green pasture, crops and white dust of quarry slag in Marche.
To break the drive, we stopped at a beach in Termoli – a truly Italian beach experience; €22 for two sun-beds and an umbrella in the second row on the creamy white sand. The repeated dips in the salty, salty water did little to refresh body temp. Water just doesn’t cool one. Still the three hour rest was appreciated.
Another 2 ½ hours driving all on the autostrada meant we finally arrived in Loreto about 6 p.m. The place we were staying that night was a Franciscan monastery. The rooms were very simple; three beds and a bathroom, small table and two chairs. No air con!! Ah well!!
After a good shower to get rid of the salt and sand we bravely ventured into the town of Porto Recanati, on the other side of the motorway. Brave it was because the GPS was again on strike - as she had been for about three hours of the drive.
We found our way to the beach and even got Mum some diuretics (and new sandals) from a pharmacy. This entire thing being accomplished in far from fluent Italian. Caitlin found the largest beach soccer ball ever seen and added it to our growing luggage collection.
Checked out various restaurants along the strand, before finally settling on one, and ordering a seafood feed. Was feeling really hungry as lunch was only nibbles and muesli bars at the beach. Dinner was okay but the drive home was almost a disaster with the GPS refusing to play the game for some time before finally trying to send us up a goat track!
Back at the Monastery we borrowed a key from reception an went out onto the fourth floor terrace to see the view of the coast and the huge basilica on the hill nearby, an amazing view for certain sure. We were well ready for sleep, after all the salty air and water and the concentrated driving.
Got up early after being awakened before 7 by some beggar thumping away with a hammer... not best pleased I can tell you. Still, it got me up and moving. Quick shower and dressed and back up to photograph the row of five trulli with their signs on the roofs. Great shot with the sun fully on them, the streets clear of people and the shop junk not yet on display.
Wandered back and go everyone underway. Once we packed up we walked the bags down the path to the main road. Mum and Caitlin stayed with the bags whilst I got the car. Did an ‘Italian’ and swung in to park on the wrong side of the road so we could pack the car. The GPS co-operated long enough to get us back to the office where we parked and had breakfast at a nearby cafe. After light brekkie we checked out and set course for Loreto (had to select by postcode as there are lots of places called Loreto in Italy). With five hours of driving ahead we got started.
The changes in landscape over the journey on this day were marked - red earth, stone, olives and cacti in Puglia; verdant green pasture, crops and white dust of quarry slag in Marche.
To break the drive, we stopped at a beach in Termoli – a truly Italian beach experience; €22 for two sun-beds and an umbrella in the second row on the creamy white sand. The repeated dips in the salty, salty water did little to refresh body temp. Water just doesn’t cool one. Still the three hour rest was appreciated.
Another 2 ½ hours driving all on the autostrada meant we finally arrived in Loreto about 6 p.m. The place we were staying that night was a Franciscan monastery. The rooms were very simple; three beds and a bathroom, small table and two chairs. No air con!! Ah well!!
After a good shower to get rid of the salt and sand we bravely ventured into the town of Porto Recanati, on the other side of the motorway. Brave it was because the GPS was again on strike - as she had been for about three hours of the drive.
We found our way to the beach and even got Mum some diuretics (and new sandals) from a pharmacy. This entire thing being accomplished in far from fluent Italian. Caitlin found the largest beach soccer ball ever seen and added it to our growing luggage collection.
Checked out various restaurants along the strand, before finally settling on one, and ordering a seafood feed. Was feeling really hungry as lunch was only nibbles and muesli bars at the beach. Dinner was okay but the drive home was almost a disaster with the GPS refusing to play the game for some time before finally trying to send us up a goat track!
Back at the Monastery we borrowed a key from reception an went out onto the fourth floor terrace to see the view of the coast and the huge basilica on the hill nearby, an amazing view for certain sure. We were well ready for sleep, after all the salty air and water and the concentrated driving.
The FIC Road Trip – Day 10 Alberobello
Three generations of women on a two-week tour of Italy – the adventure continues in a trullo!
Slept like a log! Although I did hear the bells at three. The deep bell marks the hours and the higher pitched bell the ¼ past, ½ past, and ¼ to. Dressed and made our way downstairs for breakfast about 9.30 - lots of sweet things including another tart for brekkie and lovely albiccoca marmelata (apricot jam); sharp and tangy. Cappucini for the lot then up to pack. This didn’t take long, of course, as we had only taken inside one back-pack between us. Went to pay the bill, trying to guesstimate the cost of wine and dinner from the previous evening. Total cost – accommodation for three, breakfast, dinner, wine tasting and nibbles? €70!!! Wouldn’t take more. We were their first international visitors. We will spread the word! http://www.aldihost.it/
Got underway for Alberobello with the GPS showing about 3 ½ hours on the clock; all went well - even being stopped at a random Polizia road stop – UNTIL – the GPS got seriously confused again. A little scary but, after a short rest and a reset of the target, she came right. Thank goodness.
What a changing landscape we saw, especially today. From Melizzano and nearby area with tightly packed grapevines and rolling hills, steep mountain sides and green green, green, to red dirt - FLAT, cactus and olive grove scattered land.
A roadside ‘snack bar’ stop for lunch let us have a leg stretch and toilet break. We arrived in Alberobello about 2.15 p.m. to discover that the office for our trulli rental company didn’t open until 3 p.m.! Went for a wander then decamped to a cafe for a rest and a toilet.
Once the office opened and we were suitably briefed by one of the staff who drove with us to show us where to park the car and then helped with the bags to our trullo. A really sweet small space about five metres in diameter with two curtained sleeping alcoves, a kitchenette, bathroom with shower toilet and bidet. Dining table in the centre is now the suitcase holder! Tiny, compact, fabulous! I want a trullo!!
Caitlin and I went to the local internet point whilst mum had a short rest. No charge for internet, just a donation. Caitlin had a good 30-40 minutes, I had 5. Couple of quick up-dates and off for a beer (me) and a foccaccia (Caitlin). After suitable interval we wandered back to our trullo to see how the Gran was - ‘Doing Well’ and raring to go!
We spent hours wandering up and down marble paved paths and roads, in and out of trulli; tasting, touching and admiring.
Bought nibbles and aperitivo/digestivos to take home. On the recommendation of the Trulli Holiday guy we dined at La Pinnacolo restaurant - almost next door. Prices very reasonable, great view from the terraced garden outside, and only a short pour home for the night. With Caitlin and Mum giggling over their books I finished up my diary notes for the day and soon joined them!!
Slept like a log! Although I did hear the bells at three. The deep bell marks the hours and the higher pitched bell the ¼ past, ½ past, and ¼ to. Dressed and made our way downstairs for breakfast about 9.30 - lots of sweet things including another tart for brekkie and lovely albiccoca marmelata (apricot jam); sharp and tangy. Cappucini for the lot then up to pack. This didn’t take long, of course, as we had only taken inside one back-pack between us. Went to pay the bill, trying to guesstimate the cost of wine and dinner from the previous evening. Total cost – accommodation for three, breakfast, dinner, wine tasting and nibbles? €70!!! Wouldn’t take more. We were their first international visitors. We will spread the word! http://www.aldihost.it/
Got underway for Alberobello with the GPS showing about 3 ½ hours on the clock; all went well - even being stopped at a random Polizia road stop – UNTIL – the GPS got seriously confused again. A little scary but, after a short rest and a reset of the target, she came right. Thank goodness.
What a changing landscape we saw, especially today. From Melizzano and nearby area with tightly packed grapevines and rolling hills, steep mountain sides and green green, green, to red dirt - FLAT, cactus and olive grove scattered land.
A roadside ‘snack bar’ stop for lunch let us have a leg stretch and toilet break. We arrived in Alberobello about 2.15 p.m. to discover that the office for our trulli rental company didn’t open until 3 p.m.! Went for a wander then decamped to a cafe for a rest and a toilet.
Once the office opened and we were suitably briefed by one of the staff who drove with us to show us where to park the car and then helped with the bags to our trullo. A really sweet small space about five metres in diameter with two curtained sleeping alcoves, a kitchenette, bathroom with shower toilet and bidet. Dining table in the centre is now the suitcase holder! Tiny, compact, fabulous! I want a trullo!!
Caitlin and I went to the local internet point whilst mum had a short rest. No charge for internet, just a donation. Caitlin had a good 30-40 minutes, I had 5. Couple of quick up-dates and off for a beer (me) and a foccaccia (Caitlin). After suitable interval we wandered back to our trullo to see how the Gran was - ‘Doing Well’ and raring to go!
We spent hours wandering up and down marble paved paths and roads, in and out of trulli; tasting, touching and admiring.
Bought nibbles and aperitivo/digestivos to take home. On the recommendation of the Trulli Holiday guy we dined at La Pinnacolo restaurant - almost next door. Prices very reasonable, great view from the terraced garden outside, and only a short pour home for the night. With Caitlin and Mum giggling over their books I finished up my diary notes for the day and soon joined them!!
The FIC Road Trip – Day 9 Napoli and Melizzano
Three generations of women on a two-week tour of Italy – the adventure continues!
Made it down to breakfast by 9.30 after doing most of the re-packing. This was good timing as we got a plate of freshly cooked bacon just for us; also had a machine for freshly squeezed orange juice – yum.
Checked out, repacked the car and set the GPS for Melizzano – next stop on the magical mystery tour. At one stage the reading on the GPS was 123km to the next turn off. Passed the infamous Monte Cassino and stopped by the side of the road to take photographs. Sad to think so many died here.
As we got further along the road we realised we would pass only 40km from Napoli. It seemed so close and we had so much time on our hands – detour it was!!!
What an experience! Much like Wellington, you enter the city via the port. Not a good welcome. We had set the GPS for city centre and stopped near this in a public car park very near the old fort. We lunched in a great place across the road ‘Il Pomodorino’. Great food and service; a rare combination.
From the carpark bus tours of the city leave frequently. We caught one just leaving on a ‘hop-on hop-off’ tour of the historic centre. The commentary tried to dress it up but nothing could cover the fact that this is a dirty, sad looking city with few, if any, redeeming features. We can now say we’ve ticked that box – a return visit will NOT be on any future itineraries. The drive out was even more of an experience than the drive in and I was extremely glad to see the back of the place.
On we went to Melizzano, a tiny country town off the main road on the way from Roma to Bari via Benevento. All seemed to be okay until the GPS suddenly began to play up. After a struggling conversation by cell phone we met up with a son of the household from the bed and breakfast place we were to stay in. He came and found us at our car, showed us where to park and then walked us to the house.
The place was built in the 1400s and has been totally renovated by the current generation. We had a little rest then decided to head out for a wander but were intercepted by ‘Mama’ who suggested to her son that he show us the rest of the old house. We agreed and then he took us below ground...Incredible! There is another huge area underground, all carved out of rock. It is a constant 12°C and keeps the wine at a perfect temperature. You could see the old chimney where the salami was smoked and also the well. All this was used to store the oil from the huge press still to be seen upstairs.
We talked about how good Italian food and wine is. The son then offered us a tasting of their own wine. We agreed... this led to sharing the entire bottle with them and tasting their home cured prosciutto and then a little dolce – home made plum tart. The prosciutto was carved by ‘Papa’ from a large ham held in a wrought iron stand, resting on the olive press. All their preserves and wines are ‘biologica’. The fruit is all collected from the forest on the mountain. The wine is prepared according to the phases of the moon.
We wandered off around town and then met ‘Papa’ who insisted on taking us in for coffee – espresso Arabica – and a gelato for Caitlin. He explained that the local castle is still occupied by the Duco. One of the sons later told us that the Duco did not live there as he was frightened of the ghosts.
About 8.30 we went downstairs to the taverna for dinner. We were met by Emilio, the younger son, for conversational attempts. We sat at a table with the family and ate tomato, cucumber, olive oil and basil - then prosciutto, olives, pickled wild asparagus, homemade bread, five year old cheese, and fig tart accompanied by house red, then a sweet muscat style white and then Lemoncello Crema...and then finished with a little cafe. Every time Caitlin took her eyes off her plate ‘Mama’ put more prosciutto on it and signalled for her to eat up. Some friends of the sons’ came for dinner too. I took a photo of the group – Caitlin, Lucia, Gerardo, Emilio, Carlo, Amerio, Maria, and Mum. Amerio is in politics and works with the Mayor.
We had a ball!!! Great night and conversation got more free flowing and loud as the evening progressed. Great, great family evening.
Made it down to breakfast by 9.30 after doing most of the re-packing. This was good timing as we got a plate of freshly cooked bacon just for us; also had a machine for freshly squeezed orange juice – yum.
Checked out, repacked the car and set the GPS for Melizzano – next stop on the magical mystery tour. At one stage the reading on the GPS was 123km to the next turn off. Passed the infamous Monte Cassino and stopped by the side of the road to take photographs. Sad to think so many died here.
As we got further along the road we realised we would pass only 40km from Napoli. It seemed so close and we had so much time on our hands – detour it was!!!
What an experience! Much like Wellington, you enter the city via the port. Not a good welcome. We had set the GPS for city centre and stopped near this in a public car park very near the old fort. We lunched in a great place across the road ‘Il Pomodorino’. Great food and service; a rare combination.
From the carpark bus tours of the city leave frequently. We caught one just leaving on a ‘hop-on hop-off’ tour of the historic centre. The commentary tried to dress it up but nothing could cover the fact that this is a dirty, sad looking city with few, if any, redeeming features. We can now say we’ve ticked that box – a return visit will NOT be on any future itineraries. The drive out was even more of an experience than the drive in and I was extremely glad to see the back of the place.
On we went to Melizzano, a tiny country town off the main road on the way from Roma to Bari via Benevento. All seemed to be okay until the GPS suddenly began to play up. After a struggling conversation by cell phone we met up with a son of the household from the bed and breakfast place we were to stay in. He came and found us at our car, showed us where to park and then walked us to the house.
The place was built in the 1400s and has been totally renovated by the current generation. We had a little rest then decided to head out for a wander but were intercepted by ‘Mama’ who suggested to her son that he show us the rest of the old house. We agreed and then he took us below ground...Incredible! There is another huge area underground, all carved out of rock. It is a constant 12°C and keeps the wine at a perfect temperature. You could see the old chimney where the salami was smoked and also the well. All this was used to store the oil from the huge press still to be seen upstairs.
We talked about how good Italian food and wine is. The son then offered us a tasting of their own wine. We agreed... this led to sharing the entire bottle with them and tasting their home cured prosciutto and then a little dolce – home made plum tart. The prosciutto was carved by ‘Papa’ from a large ham held in a wrought iron stand, resting on the olive press. All their preserves and wines are ‘biologica’. The fruit is all collected from the forest on the mountain. The wine is prepared according to the phases of the moon.
We wandered off around town and then met ‘Papa’ who insisted on taking us in for coffee – espresso Arabica – and a gelato for Caitlin. He explained that the local castle is still occupied by the Duco. One of the sons later told us that the Duco did not live there as he was frightened of the ghosts.
About 8.30 we went downstairs to the taverna for dinner. We were met by Emilio, the younger son, for conversational attempts. We sat at a table with the family and ate tomato, cucumber, olive oil and basil - then prosciutto, olives, pickled wild asparagus, homemade bread, five year old cheese, and fig tart accompanied by house red, then a sweet muscat style white and then Lemoncello Crema...and then finished with a little cafe. Every time Caitlin took her eyes off her plate ‘Mama’ put more prosciutto on it and signalled for her to eat up. Some friends of the sons’ came for dinner too. I took a photo of the group – Caitlin, Lucia, Gerardo, Emilio, Carlo, Amerio, Maria, and Mum. Amerio is in politics and works with the Mayor.
We had a ball!!! Great night and conversation got more free flowing and loud as the evening progressed. Great, great family evening.
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