Another warm campervan morning, though more through humidity than sunshine. The clouds are dark and dull, cling to the hilltops that surround us threatening rain. Intermittent bursts of blue, quickly overwhelmed by the dark and threatening. And finally we reach Tuscany and the city of Lucca. Interesting once again to feel the internal wrestle with the inner historian and the inner isolationist. The deep desire to immerse yourself in architecture, buildings and history and to be confronted with being submerged in crowds. We came across some of the first Brits we had encountered since leaving the Eurotunnel 10 days ago, along with some Americans. It seemed surprising to hear their voices having tuned the ears to Italian over the last few days. In fact on the route down, we didn’t see one UK plate and several people remarked that they don’t see many “ English this way”. So anyway, strolling was the order of the day, beautiful piazzas, tight winding walkways, assuming the tourist pose of neck craned, taking in structures and blistering heat, at one point it was 37 degrees, the walls and floor were humming. In the towns that I have so far see I have grown a fondness for old doors and doorways and there are plenty of them here, going back five, six hundred years. Digging out the camera for the first time in a while, though I struggle with urban photograph. Also the timing was all wrong, internal promises made to visit early in the morning to have the place as much to myself as possible and hopefully a wee bit cooler. A visit to a local brewery trying to educate the Italian palette into various flavours of American, English, German and Belgian beers as well as a few unique to themselves. A guided tour by the lovely Jacob, who knows his beers and a tasting brought the day to a close and a park up close to a road was not a wise choice, the worst of the ten days so far, but it’s only for one night. So a day of self indulgence, history and beer, with thoughts of more of early morning Lucca to come. Lovely days people.
“ The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.” Jack London.
Comments