We had an amazing time in Sorrento, but the occasional cloud hung over our stay. Not having a change of clothes began to wear on us a bit, and we had trouble communicating with the customer service reps at the airport. Thus we accrued some charges on the hotel phone, and even had to use our cell phone eventually to get some answers. Finally, on our penultimate day there, we were informed that our bags had finally arrived in Zurich, leading us to speculate that they must have been waylaid in San Fransisco. Unfortunately, this meant that we would not get the bags until we headed north to Volterra. Oh well. C'e la vita.
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| On the way out of Sorrento |
We decided that it would be fun to rent a car to drive from Sorrento into Volterra, and the surrounding Tuscan countryside. This would be both scenic, and practical: Much of Tuscany and Umbria is made up of remote hill-towns, with few trains or buses connecting them. We had on good and trusted authority that the car was really the way to go for this region.
The rental car agency (Hertz) was a mere 100 meters from our hotel. Despite seeing some...innovative...driving strategies from the locals, Shaffer was fairly confident that we could navigate the distance and at least make it back to the hotel. After all, it was only 100 meters. We got to Hertz, and promptly signed our lives away in the case that anything should happen to the vehicle. Shaffer scoured the contract just to make sure there was no "pound of flesh" clause, and in the end we just signed the thing. In return, we got our car: A grey, four door diesel Lancia, who we promptly named Lucia. Yep, Lucia Lancia: We think it has a ring to it. Lucia has a manual transmission, which at first gave Shaffer pause. However, compared to the old, finicky Lil' Dodge that Shaffer learned to drive on, Lucia goes through her paces well. While very compact compared to most American cars, she is quite a bit bigger than a lot of her Italian counterparts. She has thus far served admirably. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. Because, at the moment, we were only concerned with the brief, 100 meter drive from Hertz to the hotel. Just 100 meters.
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| Lucia Lancia! |
It was the worst 100 meters of Shaffer's life. Even worse than that time in Junior High when he ran the 100 meters with an inner ear infection and vomited thereafter right next to the girls that he had crushes on. The trip involved much honking and biting of thumbs by the locals, a trip the wrong way down a one way street, a near collision with a Vespa, and a game of chicken with a bus which ended with Shaffer mounting the sidewalk and driving along it for some distance. Luckily, Shaffer kept a cool resolve under this pressure: During the course of the drive he said, in order: "This is kind of stressful. This is horrible. This is my nightmare. We might die driving honey. We WILL die driving." And finally, the coup-de-grace: "Make your peace, this is the last minute that we have alive." Somehow, despite all of this, we made it to the hotel, and settled in for a restless night. In 4 day old clothes.
Leaving Sorrento the next morning was a bit tricky. After getting through town (with a couple more wrong turns), we were headed north on a winding, two lane road. The road itself was well maintained. It was a Sunday, and there were very few people heading north with us. However, it seems that all of Italy had been alerted to our presence, and was driving South to see the nervous American, and try to see how much they could scare him. Actually, Amy reasoned that they were probably heading to the southern beaches for some R&R. In any event, the end result was many, many vehicles traveling in the direction opposite us. And Vespas. Vespas which swerve into your lane to pass the other cars, and continue in your lane, roaring down the maybe 1 yard-wide corridor between the lanes of traffic. Amy calls them "gnats," so named for both their distinctive sound, and the annoyance they cause. We believe that Dante's Inferno should be amended to include a circle of hell in which the tortured soul must continually drive amidst a flock of Vespas.
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| Southern Italy by car |
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| More driving in the south |
Eventually, we reached the AutoStrada, the Italian freeway system. The AutoStrada is very well maintained, and much more predictable. It very much resembled driving on any freeway in the United States. We took it fairly slow, averaging 120 kilometers-per-hour. Lucia (the car) really relished the chance to get out and stretch her legs. And what legs she has! She is one sexy car, but I digress. We stopped briefly at an Autogrill for lunch. Autogrills are essentially truck stops on the side of the AutoStrada. The one we stopped at was fairly crowded, mostly with locals. We ordered due panini, and Shaffer again had a Crudo: Just raw prosciuto. It was fantastic. Even the fast food in Italy tastes divine. We exited (through the gift shop, as was mandatory) and were back on the road. We left the AutoStrada just south of Siena. It is a toll road, and we ended up paying 22 Euros for the 3.5 hours that we traveled on it. Had we traveled on some other road, we might have paid with our lives.
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| The Autostrada |
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| Passing through Rome |
Getting off the AutoStrada, we got into the heart of Tuscany. As we said earlier, Tuscany consists mainly of small, hill towns. Our path brought us up to the crest of hills, and through the dozens of little towns dotting the countrysides. And it brought us some pretty spectacular views. The pictures won't do them justice. They can't. What you really miss out on is the vast depth of the panorama: Layer upon layer of golden hills, red clay soil, green, yellow, and purple fields, with the occasional one-lane road clinging desperately to the hill side, hills undulating down into heavily wooded ravines, and back up to villas and monasteries on their peaks. Absolutely breathtaking.
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| The beautiful Tuscan countryside |
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| Rolling hills and fields |
The drive was amazing, if perhaps a bit tricky. There was plenty of down-shifting involved, and we spent most of the time between 3rd and second gear. We didn't mind though, we were too caught up in the countryside, and the charming little towns we passed through. The radio stations in Italy are an eclectic mix: Heavy does of American music mixed in with the native Italian. We were serenaded with the likes of Katy Perry, Johnny Cash, Elton John, Tracy Chapman, and even Meat Loaf! (Here's looking at you Rob Guadagnoli...er...I mean Rob Vermillion. Whoops.)
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| Grape vines |
Eventually we made it to the hill town of Volterra, our retreat for the span of two days. Volterra is at the heart of the Etruscan Empire: A pre-Roman league of towns that flourished from 900 B.C. - 1 A.D. Volterra proudly claims to be Il Cuore di Toscana: The heart of Tuscany. It also apparently has some substantial connection to the Twilight books, as Ashley Pineda tells us. Yes, Jen Costa, Edward was there. And he fell in love with Shaffer. Go cry about it.
We were staying in an Agriturismo just on the outskirts of Volterra. Agriturismi are a sort of bed and breakfast which, according to Italian law, must earn more income from farming than they do from hotel activities. We knew that ours was involved in the wine trade, but did not know much more. It took a little while to find, and we once again made a wrong turn up to what we later discovered was a monastery. When we nearly ran into another car, Shaffer was forced to back down the steep, winding driveway into oncoming traffic; all the while muttering a few choice Italian words that they don't teach you at the university. Finally, we reached the Agriturismo Podere Marcampo. I'll speak more about it in the next post, but as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. I think this one might be worth a bit more.
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| Our Agriturismo! |
Up next: Vampires, sun, alabaster, ancient archways, cats in a pot, Nazis, torture and three bottles of wine in one day. And, FINALLY, fresh clothes! No internet access for three days- but then we will catch you up.
Arrividerci.
Your blog is great! It is one of the best blogs I have read! Great work! Looking forward to reading your next installment. XOXO Cousin Betsy
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