A happy (chilly) return

4200 miles and 5 and a half weeks later, we're home. A fairly easy day - lots of driving for Kevin and the entire series of Ladybird First Favourite Tales for me, but we arrived home without mishap - although I did get a bit irritable at the thought of the unpacking to come.

Jemima was excited as we started getting close ("it's Horringer!"); and when we got home ran around happily playing with her toys while Kevin and I emptied Beatrix (thank you Kevin for calming me down). It was lovely to see the house, and the garden was looking great, all sprouting with spring. The only downside is that the boiler seems to have recently broken down as the house was 14 degrees when we got home, and didn't heat up despite Kevin's best efforts - the plumber is coming tomorrow. Beatrix's garage is actually currently warmer than the house, but we're all wrapped up so fine. And it's a good chance to look back at the last few week from the sofa.

We had a lovely time. The trip became much more about Sicily than we'd expected (once we'd got there, there didn't seem any reason to rush around so that we could see more of the rest of Italy - with Beatrix we can set our own pace, and Italy isn't going anywhere). And Sicily was more complicated than we'd expected: the infrastructure was very run down (bad roads, overflowing bins, Kevin's broken concrete - he says it's taken the mystique away from the Mafia for him, seeing their impact on the country); and it was a lot poorer than the rest of Italy (tiny pockets of vine or olive fields between houses; men working the land by hand or with tiny old tractors; lots of derelict old buildings and ugly modern ones). But it is also blessed with great natural beauty; incredible history still evident in the fabulous ruins from all centuries; wonderful fish to eat; and very friendly people. I read it described as bittersweet, and that makes sense to me. We are very pleased we've been, and had a great time, especially with the wonderful weather; but our next trip will be somewhere more developed as a contrast - maybe France, with their wonderful Aires and roads.

And that's probably a good place to end: on the lovely (lucky) thought of a new trip to come. Sorry I haven't been as disciplined about the blog and photos this trip, but if you have been reading, I hope you've enjoyed it. See you next time!

 

Le dernier spectacle

We had our last hurrah yesterday morning: the bird display and the Vikings. The birds were amazing, highlights being some sort of falcon doing 'find the lady' perfectly with some meat under wooden cups; enormous eagles flying down from a Zeppelin moored high above us; and the finale, with all the birds in air, all 170 of them - so many different types of birds of prey, plus owls, vultures, pelicans, egrets. Incredible. The Vikings show was fun too: a longboat rising from the lake with Vikings on it (presumably in place under the water using breathing apparatus - I thought how cold they must be, it was sunny but very chilly yesterday, we were all very well wrapped up); a man on fire and a toppling tower; a disappearing Saint; as well as horses, pigs, deer, dogs, and the usual human cast in costume. Lots of fun. Lunch was in 1900, in the warm bistrot (a steak, chips and red wine); then as a souvenir I bought Jemima a foam sword and shield which she LOVED; and we headed back to the motorhome, promising to return - especially to see the big nighttime extravaganza which is summer only. If you get the chance, go to Puy du Fou, it's brilliant.

We packed up, and were off by mid-afternoon. Kevin did a good three hours before we stopped for the night in an aire outside a chateau in a little town square. Only another three hours to go, and we'll be in Calais. We'll be sleeping in our own beds tonight.

 

Walking through history

Wow. Le Puy du Fou. Who knew?! We certainly didn't. After another epic six hour drive across France (well done Kevin), we arrived yesterday late afternoon at the biggest aire we've ever seen: room for 800 motorhomes. After a recuperative cup of tea, and a short walk along a wooded path, we entered French historical wonderland.

Unlike most theme parks, there's no rides (apart from one train to get you around). Instead, there's shows: six Grand Spectacles and nine minor ones, scattered throughout the day, each depicting this region of the Vendee in a different era. We walked through the Village in 1900, a slightly Disney-esque reconstruction of a town square at the turn of the century (but a bit more real-looking because the buildings seemed authentic rather than just plastic facades) to get to the next show starting, the Secret of the Spear, a medieval extravaganza. We took our seats in the wooden stand, facing a sand-covered corridor with a castle wall and battlements behind, not sure what to expect: some sort of staid re-enactment maybe. Instead we had stunt riding, jousting, a fantastical tale of a magic spear, moving battlements, accurate reconstructions of siege weapons and methodology, and a rotating castle with smoke and fire. It was a combination of historical accuracy with Hollywood-style stunts and special effects. Just brilliant. And Jemima loved it.

I won't go into the details of every show we've seen - much better to look it up online: www.puydufou.com. But they include a Viking longship attack on a medieval village; a Gallo-Roman games, with gladiators, chariot racing, and lions; an aerial display with 200 birds; a French Revolution story of a massacre of Vendee resistance fighters that included a full size galleon in section; a trench in the First World War; Richelieu's Musketeers; and a nighttime show of music, fountains and lights on a lake (including people in lit-up costumes dancing on the water). It's all in French, but the spectacle is such that it doesn't really matter (you can get interpreting headphones but we didn't bother, with Jemima, although they might help with the detail). And what a spectacle it is.

But that isn't all. The park, which is enormous and beautifully laid out with hard earth paths winding through pretty woodland, with wooden barriers (not a bit of plastic in sight), also includes accurate reconstructions of villages from different eras, with their relevant artisans. There is 1900 as previously mentioned: but also 1000 (wattle and daub, sleeping on sheepskins, rough wooden furniture and a hole in the roof for the smoke, it looks grim, but the blacksmith displayed amazing swords made from iron ore); the Medieval era (a pretty village with timber and stone walls and glass in the windows, and a tiny church with painted walls, and calligraphy, woodcarving, and pottery artisans, plus a BRILLIANT 'dress up in Medieval costume for photos' place up a tower - even the clothes rail was wooden); and an 18th century village, with an amazing old barn with lots of animals (ducklings! chicks! as well as the usual sheep, goats, pigs, donkeys, cows etc), a village allotment; and a blacksmith (very cosy in the cold), a clog-maker (not sure he knew what he was doing), a beautiful wooden inlaid furniture maker, a perfumier, and a miniaturist. It all seemed so real, which is probably because a lot of it was: the 18th century barn was apparently original to the era, bought, taken apart, and rebuilt on the spot (with then the addition of some rather fine stage-set cobwebs). And they had obviously worked very hard to maintain the authenticity: Kevin pointed out that in the Medieval village the only inappropriate thing visible was a 21st century lock on a door - which they'd covered with a bit of leather. Even better, you are encouraged to watch, pick things up, investigate, and go places: there are no signs saying 'don't touch', or 'watch your head', or 'keep back' (although we did avoid allowing Jemima too close to the furnace or the hammering blacksmith). It was history made real: liveable in, walkable through (apparently the aristo who started the park is a history buff). And all the more vivid for it.

And the final bit of fun: eating. As well as the usual food stands (all wooden, with servers dressed in the costumes of the period in which they were located); there were also proper restaurants (again, completely period, such as the rather nice brasserie in the Bourg 1900). But best of all, for dinner there were two restaurants with shows: the Renaissance Hall, depicting the meeting of Henry VIIIth and Francois I on the Field of Cloth of Gold (including a Gladiators-style battle with giant cotton buds), where we ate last night; and the Auberge from the 18th Century, where we had people drinking wine from clogs and an accordionist (tonight). The food was actually quite good (eg chicken legs flambeed in Cognac for the Renaissance), and, sitting on tables of ten sharing the food and the fun was great.

We're all enjoying it: Jemima is exhausted but having a wonderful time: the first thing she said this morning was 'are we going back to the show?'. Even Kevin agreed to dress up (under pressure from the attendant). We've done a day and a half so far, and have probably half a day still to do before we see what we want, and even then, that won't be all. And to think neither of us had ever heard of this place. Well done Kevin, a spectacular googling result. We will definitely be back.

A photo of a printed photo of us all in Medieval costume:

Knights:

The chariots in the arena:

The blacksmith in his 18th century forge:

The Medieval village:

Chabreloche to Le Puy du Fou:

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

Summer to spring

Two consequences of yesterday's adventures: first, Jemima didn't go to sleep until about midnight with all the excitement (when the "Mummy Mummy Mummy!" started I rolled over saying to Kevin as he's had a day off, he was on duty, so he was the one awake with her - I slept well...); and second, Kevin got bored home alone so had some fun googling, and as a result we are currently half way to a French theme park called Le Puy du Fou - we are going to finish this trip with a bang. It's slightly further west than we would normally be going to get home, but looks brilliant, with lots of historically-themed live shows, and an aire with a free shuttle bus for Beatrix.

So we are staying tonight in a tiny town in the middle of France, just off the motorway. Kevin did an amazing job of the six hour drive, while I read Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler's entire oeuvre to Jemima. We started in a warm, sunny Genoan morning with everything green and lush; and went through the Alps with views of snowcapped mountains; into a France of grey skies and landscapes where it seems as if spring is only just starting. We have certainly left summer behind, but at least (hopefully) it is on its way - when we came home last trip, all we had to look forward to was winter. At least we have a few days of organised fun to look forward to. One more day of this driving, and the last hurrah can begin.

Our stop off:

Arenzano near Genoa to Chabreloche, not near anywhere:

 
 

The joy of Jemima

It is a fact well established in this family that Jemima loves an aquarium. And Genoa has the biggest in Europe - how could we not... But it was to be girls only - Daddy was going to have a (well-earned) day off. So after a quick croissant, Jemima and I departed.

Our journey: a shared taxi to the train station with two very nice older Italian couples (one of whom reappeared at various points on our journey all morning, right into the aquarium); then a train from our Genoan suburb into the centre; a nice walk through the Old Town past some of Genoa's epic UNESCO Palazzi, slightly grubby grandeur (their tantalising interiors, glimpsed through doorways, to be visited another time); to the Old Port, and its brilliant galleon, and the Aquarium.

Jemima was her usual enthusiastic self about seeing fish, and it was a very nice aquarium: lots of different tanks, many very big, including a particularly fine tropical coral tank. Jemima was very keen on the stroke-a-stingray tank (they come and assess you, sticking their eyes and nose out of the water, before agreeing to swim over and be stroked). But the big USP for me was a great dolphin viewing tank, where we saw a trainer giving commands to the dolphins through the glass to the underwater pool - like seeing a dolphin display from an entirely new perspective. And as an added bonus, in the lunch queue we bumped into an English woman and her half Dutch three year old Marcha, so Joleene and I had a very nice chat in the sunshine while the girls played. Jemima was predictably upset when they had to leave, but the rest of the aquarium cheered her up, including baby tortoises, tiny orange frogs and green tree pythons, to mix it up a bit.

Then back to the train station, Jemima telling me she needs a nap as we walk and falling asleep within seconds after all the excitement. Luckily our train was departing in ten minutes, so we went straight to the platform (with the help of some kindly strangers lifting Jemima up steps); and were quickly on the train and back to where Kevin and Beatrix were waiting for us at our home station - with Jemima still asleep. We had such a fun day, it was a delight to take her out on an adventure, just the two of us; and then it was lovely to get home.

A bit of recuperation, then off to dinner, a short walk along the coastal path. It was simply the closest restaurant, but it turned out to be great, one of our best meals: grilled tuna for Jemima, plus nibbles at mine and Kevin's calamari and prawns (but not the delicious tuna tartare or steak strips we had as well), and then a fantastic ice cream for Jemima - we told her to ask the waiter for some ice cream, and she asked him for gelato, her first spontaneous Italian, which Kevin and I were very impressed by. And she was fun all evening: happily playing games, eating all the fishy delights, making jokes, and giggling happily at ours. Then a lovely evening stroll back along the coastal path to bed, with Jemima leading us with her torch. As Kevin said as we walked along, she brings such joy.

Baths on the briny

It was flat as we went to sleep, but it got rollier in the night, and Kevin and I both had to get out of bed to stop doors banging or things falling about. We woke up to a ghostly Jemima drifting around the room; she can't get out of her bed in the motorhome (it's too high) so she took the opportunity to get up and explore while she could.

The first thing I did was have a bath: blissful. Then I dragged Jemima into the bath for her fortnightly wash (I am only slightly exaggerating...). She complained at first (the shock of the unusual) but soon enjoyed it. Meanwhile, Kevin was starting to feel a little peaky, so he had some anti-seasickness tablets. Then Jemima turned white, so we tried to get one into her. After a number of failed attempts, I bought a croissant and hid it in that - she shuddered a few times as she was eating it, but the love of a croissant spurred her on, and it did go in.

And then passed a quiet morning: Kevin sleeping through his seasickness; Jemima and I sharing a mid morning sandwich, once she started feeling better (something about travelling makes me constantly hungry); and then reading and watching DVDs. By lunchtime Kevin was well enough to head out, so we had lunch at the self service place (we learned our lesson about the waste of expensive meals on ferry crossings on our Santander to Portsmouth trip last November); then Kevin went back to bed and Jemima and I went to play.

We had a lovely time, first in the kids' room where we met some Italian children; and then on the sun deck, where we found a shady sheltered spot and played a game (Roll and Play, it's brilliant). After a few hours of fun (and a hunt for my sunglasses, which I lost, AGAIN - but thank goodness these were £15 from M&S and I bought two pairs for this exact eventuality; I have finally learnt my lesson), we headed back home for a rest.

And before you knew it, we were approaching Genoa and had to leave our cabin. Kevin carried a sleeping Jemima to the bar where we were supposed to wait; and then it was back to Beatrix. A desperate tussle with Genoan traffic (some sort of accident meant the autostrade was closed and the diversions very slow); and finally we were at the campsite.

You could see the difference in infrastructure with Sicily instantly we disembarked: no rubbish; good roads; well kept buildings; safe pavements (Kevin says he would describe Sicily as "broken concrete"). But we've also left the warmth behind us: it was sunny, but not summery. We will see more what Genoa has to offer in tomorrow's daylight

(There are a couple more photos - I'll finish them tomorrow...)

Genoa Ferry Port to Arenzano:

 

Ciao Sicilia

Beach or Palerman sites? That was our dilemma for our last day in Sicily. Although not much of a dilemma really - with the chance that this might be our last proper beach opportunity this trip, and Palermo not going anywhere for potential future visits, the choice was clear. Beach it was.

We packed up, and headed off. It was deserted in comparison with Sunday's festivities; we parked Beatrix right outside yesterday's rammed restaurant, where we had a delicious, and peaceful lunch (spaghetti alle vongole, my favourite) - again, a contrast. And Jemima made friends with a little Milanese girl called Sophia (although that proved a double-edged sword when they started chasing each other around a table - Sophia being the ringleader of the bad behaviour, of course...).

Then onto the beach. It was also deserted, and we found some sun loungers and settled in. Kevin and Jemima played while I snoozed in the sun; then I went for a swim. Jemima showed her usual interest, but continued to resist actually getting in. But she'd enjoyed her splashing so much in Scopello, today I just picked her up and dunked her a few times until she got over the initial shock of the cold water, and started enjoying herself. And it worked! She and I stood (or knelt, in my case) on the sand, jumping with the gentle waves; and she even got brave enough to walk in and out of the water up to her chest. She only agreed to get out when she started shivering. Her first proper play in the sea! A great success. We dried off in the sun, cuddling on a lounger. Then just as Jemima was starting to get tired, the wind picked up out of nowhere, whipping up the sand. It was our signal to leave. Back to Beatrix, and off to the ferry port in Palermo.

Jemima was asleep before the engine started. Kevin and I navigated through the terrible Palermo traffic without significant incident (I had to get a bit forceful at some points about following the map the lady at the campsite had given us, rather than following signs, and it all worked out ok, thank goodness, otherwise there may have been Words); and we parked up at the ferry port. We still had a few hours before departure, but with Jemima asleep decided not to attempt a last minute dash into Palermo. Instead, a Boardwalk Empire with a cup of tea; dinner; and then the beginning of Frozen whiled away our car park time very happily. Boarding was stress free, and our cabin lovely: a bedroom with sitting area/ sofa bed separated by a curtain; a balcony; and best of all, a bath! Too late for that, however; we all fell into bed and were sleeping as the ship sailed. Ciao Sicilia.

Beatrix dwarfed by La Superba:

 

Isola delle Femmine to Palermo Ferry Port (you can see the beginning of the Palermo-Genova ferry route, which runs inside Sardinia and Corsica):

 

 

A Sicilian Sunday

Another hot one today. It was lovely having the awning out; Jemima and I went to collect bread and croissants from the campsite shop and ate them outside in the shade. Then we had fun doing some kids yoga DVDs together (I'm sure providing some amusement to our neighbours at points during the Silly to Calm DVD, which gets very silly indeed). Then onto the bikes and off to the beach, which was apparently a few hundred metres away.

It was a lovely long curve of sand with beautiful sea, a bit grubby in places like most of Sicily, but still very nice. And it was packed - this is clearly what you do in Isola delle Femmine on a Sunday. We cycled as far as you could go, then went back a bit (against the one way traffic - snail's pace cars because it was so busy, but still a bit scary) to a restaurant on the beach, and had panini and a pizza slice. They had an elaborate, very ineffective system for ordering - I was gone so long Kevin started to get worried - but we ate in the end, and it was tasty; and then we hit the beach.

Jemima was so happy. She immediately just started playing: drawing in the sand, splashing in the sea; running in and out of a big hole someone had dug. I went to join her and we some great games taking in turns to be a crab and chasing the other. Then I lay down for a bit and Kevin buried her and built forests from dried seaweed.

We were near another family with a little boy (Mattia, aged 2 and half), and after a while Jemima went over to say hello, and then started playing. (We checked the parents were OK with this and they seemed to be.) She seems even more sociable now - she meets a lot of people on this motorhoming life, and Sicilians have been universally wonderful with her, from 8 to 80, so she gets a lot of friendly encouragement. Kevin enticed her away with a toy barking dog from a beach vendor; and then it was time for an ice cream; and a cycle home.

After a brief recuperation, we headed out for dinner (Jemima with no nap can't handle eating late). We happened upon the evening passeggiata: the town was buzzing, with late lunches still finishing; children playing in the streets (lots of football); and seemingly every resident out and about. What they weren't doing, however, was having dinner. It seems Palermitans don't eat at 7pm - one restaurant didn't even open until 8pm. But we found somewhere, empty but open; and with Jemima fading, chanced our luck. We may have eaten alone, but we ate unexpectedly well: our best pizza yet, delicious bruschette, and ham and mozzarella, and very nice pasta. Jemima miraculously stayed awake until the end, falling asleep minutes after we got home. One more day on the beach enjoying this early summertime before our ferry.

The beach:

Off to dinner:

 

 

 

 

Larry, Lenny, Lorraine and Armstrong

I was a bit grumpy yesterday morning. I think it's something to do with starting the homeward leg. Not that I don't want to go home - I love home and the life we have there; but it does mean a return of the to do list. Anyway, as Kevin said, we've still got ages; and in the scheme of things those sorts of grumps are entirely worth the fun of being away.

And we had a lovely day in the end. We didn't really know where we were when we woke up, as we'd arrived in the dark, but actually it's a very nice campsite, full of trees, and not too big. We had a quiet morning settling in, doing the water etc, then Kevin biked to get bread, and returned with it still warm, which we ate with barbecued prawns and salad. (Jemima and I had a lot of fun continuing a game started by Kevin where she talks to the food. She had a very jolly chat with Larry, Lenny, Lorraine and Armstrong the prawns - or crawns as she calls them - while she was devouring them). It was very hot and sunny - as hot as it ever gets in an English summer, and we had to get the awning out for shade (first time this trip, and we'd forgotten how to fix it - we had to ask a neighbour and it was in fact embarrassingly easy, but at least we got it fixed...).

Then a little walk around the town for Jemima to nap - a proper Sicilian fishing town with old men on benches in the square, and fishmongers or fishing shops on every street. Kevin and I had a drink at a cafe and watched the world go by for a while, before returning back to Beatrix. We had dinner in the campsite restaurant: a menu of Sicilian specialities including wine for €10 (not as good as the Spanish menus del dia we enjoyed so much, but still pretty good). Then back home to bed. All of us inexplicably tired, but no longer grumpy.

Playing - doctors and tea parties:

The town:

 

 

 

 

The tuna factory and the temple

It was lovely waking up to blue sky over the mountains - it was going to be a hot one. After the usual suncream arguments, we headed back into the village to try to find the beach. We'd been warned that the path was not buggy friendly so we were prepared with the sling - and it was a good thing too. The path was tiny, rocky, and overgrown with wildflowers, but so pretty. We made our way down, and even further down, very, very carefully, with Jemima's feet brushing the tops of the flowers. And then we were there. Apparently the owner of an tuna canning factory had realised, a little while ago, that after the demise of his tuna business he could make money by charging for access to his rather lovely cove. So for the princely sum of €7 we were allowed through the barrier and down another pretty path towards the sea.

The old tuna factory was in fact an attractive building - rather more so than most modern Sicilian buildings which seem to have been constructed with zero attempt at design - just square blocks. And the cove was beautiful - there was a stone slipway into bright green and blue rocky-bottomed sea, with waves splashing in, and cliffs around, two of which had old towers on them. I went for a swim - Kevin assured me that the sea was warmer here because of currents or something, which sort of helped - and it was wonderful (but still freezing). But amazingly, Jemima decided she wanted to join in too. To start with every time her feet touched the water she curled them high, shrieking; but gradually she got used to it, and I even dunked her a few times. We got out, but she decided she'd enjoyed it so much that she wanted to get back in, so we had a jolly time kicking our feet in the waves. For a canning factory, unexpectedly picturesque, and a lovely play.

But (in this case), what goes down, must go up. And it was hard work. Kevin went behind to break our fall, and Jemima and I plodded our way upwards. "Come on Mummy, you can do it!", she exhorted, from her comfortable vantage point. But with much puffing, we made it, and headed to the friendly village square cafe for a gelato and/ or beer as a reward. Then back to Beatrix for lunch in our car park field, and onwards to the next adventure. (But first, a return to the cove to retrieve Jemima's swimming costume - luckily we could drive to the entrance but it was still another down and up for me; but thankfully Jemima-less.)

There was one more ruin in this part of Sicily that I wanted to see: the remains of a Greek temple from the 5th Century BC, on a hillside. It wasn't far, but Jemima fell asleep on the drive, so Kevin nobly offered to miss the culture and stay with her while I immersed myself. We parked, and I headed off - uphill. Again. It was steep, again; but thankfully not too far. The temple is poised on a mountainside in solitary splendour, with gorgeous views of the surrounding countryside, and I had a lovely time wandering around the skeleton of the structure (if only you could go inside, I think you'd get another depth of experience entirely). It didn't take too long though (I missed out the rest of the site, which was some distance away); so we were shortly on our way back to the beach.

A different beach this time, that we'd seen on our drive: a very pretty bay, but unusually stony. So a different sort of fun: throwing stones into a bucket; making towers of stones; and a very nice walk along the sandy water's edge. Beautiful water, beautiful surroundings. Then a little drive along the coast to investigate a possible restaurant with a view for dinner. On closer inspection it didn't look great, but the layby on which the restaurant was situated included a few other things: straw basket sellers; an old man selling herbs and honey from the bonnet of a Lada; and the Sicilian equivalent of a kebab van. We decided to try some Sicilian street food: spicy sausage, fresh tomato and fried onion in a toasted roll. Delicious, and Kevin said the best value for money meal we'd had in Sicily.

Then time to find our night spot. Rather than going back, we went on, around the whole of the bay which had San Vito Lo Capo as its top left tip. I was sad to leave that bit of Sicily behind: it's so pretty, and has been my favourite area. But the sun was setting; the sky and cliffs were pink; the sea in the bay was aquamarine; and the road was good - a consoling combination. We arrived at our final recommended campsite not far from Palermo just before closing, and found ourselves a pitch for the night. Two and a bit days until our ferry, and hopefully a nice beach and some sunshine to enjoy it with. When I think of Sicily in the future, I will think particularly of the places we went today.

When I went into her bedroom this morning, Jemima was playing in my hat:

A quick game of boules before we set off:

The beach path:

Swimming at the tuna factory:

Segesta temple and surroundings:

The beach:

Scopello to Segesta (and back again - the beach was just near Scopello):

Guidaloca beach to Camping La Playa, Isola delle Femmine:

 
 
 

 

 

 

 

Two thirds gone

Four weeks in, two left. It's hard to believe, it's gone so quickly: time just stretches in the motorhome life, the days float by doing not very much but still somehow feeling like we are having adventures and experiences. I think it's because even the basic things like eating, shopping, and sleeping are all done in a new context all the time: not just in Sicily (and in my broken Italian) rather than in England and English; but in a different part of Sicily every day, or few days. It all adds up to lots of memories, but does also mean time flies. Anyway, we thought we would do a lot of Italy in six weeks but instead we will have seen Sicily, and not even all of that.

The main reason for this ruminating: we have decided on a return route. This morning Kevin booked our ferry from Palermo to Genoa for Monday night, which gives us a week and a half to get home through northern Italy and France. The rest of Italy will have to wait for another time.

But in the meantime, we have a few more days to enjoy Sicily. After packing up this morning we headed for Scopello, another village on this beautiful promontory, which had been recommended for a visit. And wonderful it was too. An easy parking spot for overnight on the edge of the village; a gentle wander through the pretty streets; lunch on a lovely terrace overlooking the bay (again, Jemima ordered best with her grilled fish of the day, but the rest of it was also good today); an ice cream in the square; then the best bit, a wonderful walk up and down the lanes through the wildflower-filled countryside, with a solitary donkey happy in a field (although down was definitely better than the steep ups with Jemima in the buggy - Kevin and I had to take turns pushing...). A final beer in the square in the sunshine, with Jemima making friends with the Italian granny in the bar, and a man with a budgerigar in a cage that made kissing noises when it pecked his finger (Jemima thought that was great); then back to Beatrix for a bit of Bing, and bread and cheese for dinner. Another glorious, inconsequential day.

Our parking spot:

Lunch:

Ice cream!:

Walking in Scopello and around:

 

Some great photos by Kevin:

Resting after uphill buggy-pushing:

A thirteenth century tower:

Camping El-Bahira, San Vito Lo Capo, to Scopello: