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After the opulent beauty of Monaco it was across the Italian border and to the a somewhat less appealing Sanremo. Here we camped in what was basically a car park with a shower block. Our tiny tent was monstered by family size tents and camper vans only a couple of meters either side of us! We did have the option to pay a €50 deposit to get a key to allow us entry onto one of the s***test beaches I've ever seen or into another fenced off section which was a small gravel area with some plastic reclining chairs overlooking a charming view of massive boulders which lead down to the grey sea.
But on to greener pastures and after navigating another heart wrenching collection of narrow, inclining, zig-zaging roads we were off to Florence… with an impromptu stop off at the Leaning Tower of Pisa. The tourists were out in full force and it really was funny watching all the wacky poses, though I shouldn't judge: we did one of me punching the tower off it's axis! The tower itself was actually very impressive.. it really does lean quite a lot! I heard it was leaning too far and in danger of falling over, so back in 1990 they brought it back to a 'safe' lean of about 4°. It looks like more though…
Anyway, we arrived to our next campsite in Florence and I was amazed at the location Clare had chosen for us to camp! She happened to stumble upon and book a pitch in a site just minutes' walk from the Piazzale Michelangelo look-out.. only one of the best views of Florence anywhere! The views from the campsite itself were even amazing! And only 20 mins walk and you're in the thick of it… and I do mean the thick of it. Florence was a pretty great city, but the pure density of tourist was a little overwhelming. If you've ever heard of a place called to Disneyland, it's like that but with renaissance sculptures instead of Tea Cup rides. Tourists roam about the streets in massive droves getting hassled by pushy street vendors selling them crap they don't need, and some areas feel more like a punk band mosh pit than an artistic retreat. For example: the Ponte Vecchio bridge (the one with jewellery shops precariously built on to the side of the bridge) was a test of skill and stamina just to cross. The line-up for Michelangelo's David was so long we didn't even bother seeing the big guy. And Duomo Cathedral, Florence's most famous landmark, was so busy the bouncers (yes, a church with bouncers) had no issue refusing us entry because Clare didn't suit the dress standard… the scantily clad hussy that she was… heaven forbid! (as if God hasn't seen a girls shoulders before!). Yes we went to all manner of museums and saw a plethora of religious-based paintings and sculptures. So many that they started to meld together, with only a few really cool or famous ones standing out.
But the main things that stood out weren't the artworks at all. We visited a couple of places that gave you a good idea of how some of the locals lived back in the Renaissance period: one was an upper class family dwelling and the other was the Palazzo Pitti which was an epic palace & gardens which belonged to Florence's most powerful family; the Medici's.
The overall highlight was the random little day we had that began with an absolutely massive medieval parade that weaved down the streets from the main square to the hastily constructed football ground at the front of the Santa Crose church. The parade was so cool.. guys with crossbows, swords, muskets and horses all marching to 'battle' to the beat of the drum. There were hundreds of them dressed to the 9's, with the football teams bringing up the rear using their massive arms to wave to the crowds. We followed the parade to the football ground, but there was no way we could get a ticket in as there really wasn't that many seats in the temporary arena, so we went into the closest pub to watch on TV with a pint. The game is called Calcion Storico; a very old game where 2 teams of about 20 go into a small 'sand box' arena with a soccer ball and basically beat the crap out of each other, and this was the grand final. But all we saw was the pre-game entertainment (the medieval guys throwing their flags and marching around) before the heavens opened and after much passionate Italian debate, they called the game off. Next thing, the pub was packed full of wet, shirtless Italian men (sounds like a Madonna music clip) so we bailed back to the campsite for what was surprisingly one of the best margarita pizzas in the world, which we ate in the car as the torrential rain continued to pour down. Then just after the sun set the rain finally stopped so we went up to the look-out to see the fireworks display (celebrating Florence's patron saint). We were so close and it went for ages… probably the best fireworks display I've seen. And it was SO LOUD. As we walked back to the campsite while the smoke cleared all I could hear was the car alarms that some of the bigger firework explosions set off (you could feel those ones in your teeth!!) and of course the ringing in my ears.
Daz
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