Friday – 1 June 2018 to Friday, 15 June 2018
We left Sormano near Lake Como – which was home to us during the last two weeks of May (blog post to follow soon) – early in the morning and had a relatively stress-free drive with a lovely picnic lunch – with blanket and all – under the shade of an old tree at a rest station on the way. Ah, what bliss! But of course we could not linger too long; we still had some way to go to reach Ponzano Superiore, our new abode for the month of June.

As we drove up the steep and winding road up and up the mountain we caught a glimpse of a beautiful hilltop village and I mused “wouldn’t it be wonderful to stay in a village like that?” You can imagine our surprise when the GPS made us stop right in the centre of that same village 10 winding minutes later! Finally I got to stay in an Italian medieval hilltop village; I could now move that entry from my bucket list to the been-there-done-that list.

Another entry on my bucket list was to visit the Cinque Terre, the subject of this post, and the main reason we were now living in this hilltop village from where the Cinque Terre is easily reached. Also on my bucket list was walking at least part of a pilgrimage route and you can imagine my delight when we found out that the Francigena pilgrimage route passes right through Ponzano, the subject of this post.

Bucket list aside, we had just arrived in Ponzano when we received a call from Pierguido – the father in law of our landlady Barbara – who had been despatched to welcome us and soon enough we were settled in at our new home. We were immensely happy with our choice of apartment, it was very comfortable and the views from the terrace towards the mountains of Liguria with Tuscany in the background, as well as views to the sea in the distance were just amazing! I could live here, I mean, I could really live here.

We later learned that Ponzano Superiore has been in existence even before 986 when it was first mentioned in a document of that time, that’s way over 1000 years ago! I can hear Renata saying “Isn’t that something!”

The first few days in Ponzano we used to settle in to our new surroundings and did not venture far from our comfortable base. And in any case, during our move to Ponzano, with the packing and loading and unloading, somewhere along that line I must have pulled a muscle, it felt more like a whole muscle group though, which was now in full revolt.

My right arm was rendered near useless. It was an effort to brush my teeth, to eat, to sleep, and all the other things that a man must do. Adri took matters in hand and gave me a neck, back and right arm massage and by the evening things looked much rosier… and so did the skin of my neck, back and right arm. It was only three days later that the muscle group retreated and raised the white flag… Fortunately my skin colour had returned to the same hue.

It was only on the Wednesday that we went to check whether the car was in need of anything, and I dare say it was, it sorely needed a good scrubbing. We had parked just shy of an olive tree and now it was covered in a sticky yellow olive blossom mess. With bucket, water and sponges in hand we tackled the task of cleaning our auto. Not too much harm done though; the stickiness was not as bad as we had anticipated.

Having promised never to park in that same spot again, when we returned from shopping a day later I parked in the next space up, which would prove to be a dumb move, somehow that olive tree coerced its blossoms once again onto the car! This saw me once again with bucket in hand, Groundhog Day style, same same as yesterday. Dumb and Dumber also came to mind.

It was the same afternoon that we were sitting in this non-descript pub come coffee shop in Ponzano, the only place of any business in town, I kid you not. Present was the lady behind the counter, one customer on the other side of it, Adri and I seated at one of the five tables in the place with another table occupied by four older gentlemen who were playing cards.

 

 

 

As I took the second swig from by birre Moretti, mid gulp, all hell broke loose! The man with a bush of white hair sitting closest to us started yelling at the old man to his right, visibly upset about something the man must surely have done. This carried on for some time but suddenly everyone broke into hearty laughter… Okay, this was just normal expressive Italians having a normal conversation and a little bit of fun amongst bosom buddies… I’ll get used to this…

For whom the bell tolls… It was midday on Thursday, 7 June 2018 and it seemed like the bell in the village square was tolling for Henri van Breda back in SA… 12 very deliberate tolls… I thought I heard 13, but I might have been mistaken.

If you are not aware of the Henri van Breda case, he is the young monster who axed his father, mother and brother to death and his younger sister to within an inch of her life. He was today finally sentenced to three life sentences for the murder of his father, mother and brother and 15 years for the attempted murder of his younger sister. Wow, what a gruesome and grizzly tale that is… And to think that same axe was previously used to chop firewood for the family barbecues… And this I have on good authority…

We had been following the van Breda case closely, often watching proceedings either live or via Youtube. Intrigued by the case I searched for additional information and came across the initial 911 emergency call that the little monster made after his executions. I was appalled to listen to the pathetic response from the 911 person on the line; she could not find the provided address in 9 minutes! Could some of the lives have been saved had she handled the call professionally? I Google mapped the address and found it within about 6 seconds! Wow, you don’t want an emergency with that kinda 911 person at the other end of your emergency… lives will be lost.

Since arriving last Friday, Thursday was the first time we went down the hill for a spot of grocery shopping at the local Conad supermarket, a pretty good one at that. Emerging with bags bulging we spotted a shop across the way that proclaimed that they sold everything. There was a Chinese man behind the counter so I guess it could be classed as a Chinese shop, and it did sell everything. I even found my beloved Oral B dental floss which was missing in action at all the other stores we had tried. Maybe it’s fake, maybe it isn’t.

We had been in Ponzano for a week and took many walks in the surrounding area, but it was time to spread our wings a bit further afield. We took a drive south to Tellaro on the coast which turned out to be a really special place. We walked amongst its enchanting little streets marvelling at its ancient buildings and wonderful views towards the sea.

 

 

We then moved north up along the coast and reached Lerici and drove around for a considerable period of time before finally finding a parking garage. It seems like most – or rather all – street side parking is reserved for local residents with parking permits, so finding parking is not easy. We took a walk down to the waterfront and marina and found that Lerici was even more enchanting than what we remembered when we visited here back in 1998.

 

 

We took a walk up to Castello di Lerici which seems to still be guarding the town and its inhabitants like the old patriarch that it is. The views towards Lerici and the sea from up there are stupendous.

 

 

 

As much as Lerici exceeded my memories, so La Spezia fell far beneath my memories of it. I clearly remember that bus trip from Lerici to La Spezia to pick up our rental, driving past the never-ending navel warehouses for kilometres on end along the coast and its port of a multitude of navy and commercial vessels. La Spezia is an industrialised port city which did not endear itself to me then, even less now; I could not think of even one reason to return to it other than pass through it to somewhere spectacular. Maybe I’m being unfair on La Spezia but that is how I experienced it.

By Saturday we needed some exercise and went for a walk to Falcinello, a neighbouring hilltop town some 4km away. We had to turn around before we got there, rugby was starting at 09:30 and I could not miss watching France beat New Zealand on home soil. Wishful thinking though… At halftime France was leading and looking rather good but in the second half they lost the plot and lost by a rather embarrassing margin.

 

 

The wifi was sketchy and testing my patience. By the time the SA/England game came along I was worried I was going to miss the whole shebang. The mifi router worked better outside on the terrace but then it ran out of power. There was no electrical extension cable so I had to make do with charging it from my laptop in a weird setup… but it worked.

Miraculously the wifi caught the rugby spirit with me – mine in the form of a Birra Moretti – and together we settled down for some serious rugby, or so I thought. Within the first 15 minutes the Springboks were down 24-3, this was going to be a record loss. But, by halftime the Boks had regained the upper hand and were leading by two points. The second half was a thriller and they eventually won the match by three points. Happy to say, barring the first 15 minutes, I am once again a proud Springbok rugby supporter.

Tooth trouble is not something you wish on your worst enemy, and more so if you’re travelling in another country. It was a Monday in mid June that I bit onto something hard and immediately felt something loose in my mouth. It turned out to be a crown from one of my upper back teeth that had come loose. Bummer…

Now last December while holidaying in SA Adri and I went for a thorough dental check-up… and the guy did some work on that very same tooth that was now causing me no pain, but much agony. At the time I did not deem that work necessary, I may have been wrong, but now I knew I was right. If something ain’t broke, don’t bloody well fix it!

I was not sure whether I should leave my condition unattended until I return to France but decided in any case to visit a dentist. But, how would I find one, or at least a good one? And one that could speak English? Our landlord, Pierguido, came to the rescue and arranged an appointment with a Dr. Rinaldo Leri in La Spezia. After taking X-rays of the tooth in question he advised that it had to come out and be replaced by an implant at some stage, the tooth was cracked and thus he could not replace the crown. Double bummer…

After contemplating this for a couple of days, and after getting information from a specialist in SA via email, I decided to do the deed, mainly because the tooth had to be removed in any case because of its cracked up state. But, I was also warned that an abscess may form if left untreated for an extended period.

Once again Pierguido came to the rescue and arranged another appointment and it was around 11:00 that I found myself lying down and staring into the eyes of Dr. Leri. After the injection he told me to wait for 10 minutes. Before he disappeared I ordered a birra Moretti. I knew he knew that I was joking when he returned empty handed 10 minutes later.

He gave me another injection and said “Now we pull tooth Italian way”, as he mimicked giving me a punch to the jaw. He knew I knew that he was joking when he took out a pair of grisly looking pliers. Only thing is, now I was hoping he was not joking. It was a mere three minutes later when the tooth came out without much fuss. Truth be told, throughout this minor ordeal, I felt not a single strain of pain, rather amazing.

I waited at the reception desk to pay my dues when the lady assistant walked by and shooed us away with a “bye-bye”, closely followed by an “arrivederci”, and waving us out the door despite my protestations… I needed to pay the man but, no payment was required for either of the two appointments. Wow, I was simply amazed, thank you doctor Rinaldo Leri. If we ever meet again I will be sure to take him for that birra Moretti.

Having had a medical non-emergency, my thoughts again turned to our French Carte Vitale medical insurance cards that have been received and were now in the safe hands of Lucie, from whom we will pick it up on our return to Brittany in September.

Subsequent to receiving our Carte Vitale we had also applied for our Carte Europeenne D’assurance Maladie which  is essentially a Carte Vitale that you use whenever you are outside of France, travelling anywhere in the EU. This is the medical card that I should have used with my dentist’s appointment but, either way, it ended up costing me even less than should I have had that card!

Be as it may, when I applied for these cards online the acknowledgement message on the screen advised that the card would be received via post within 10 days. It was exactly 10 days later that Lucie contacted us to announce the arrival of the cards. The French are something else!

On our return from grocery shopping one day we found absolutely no parking in our village so we decided to continue driving along this very narrow twisty road that eventually spat us out in Falcinello, the town we tried to reach by foot a few days back but were stymied due to rugby time constraints. Falcinello is a lovely little village but we decided not to linger, we were also not prepared to drive back along that narrow twisty road, so we continued through down and down the hill on the other side, hoping for a wider road which we did not find until much later.

We ended up in Sarzana – which gets rave reviews from what we have read – and decided to linger here for a while. We found the blue (paid) parking bays easily enough but could not get the meter to work. A black guy pointed us to some white parking bays just further up, which apparently are free.

Once we had parked we found that our parking consultant spoke perfect English, he was from Ghana. He was very happy to learn that we were also African and we had a lovely lengthy conversation about Africa and all. What a nice guy but, he says “Life is not easy, not in Ghana and not here in Italy”. He sells toys in the parking lot every day to try and make ends meet. We had no use for the toys but we did give him a few Euro coins though.

But, back to Sarzana… which is a rather large town with a smallish old town centre. We were captivated by the old town even though one could not marvel at all the lovely streets and buildings… it was market day and many of the streets were filled with stalls of all sorts. We wandered around aimlessly taking it all in and eventually settled down for a cappuccino to do some people watching.

 

 

Having done a full circle route we were back in Santo Stefano again and eventually arrived back in Ponzano once again looking for a parking space. As we drove up the only road in town there were two parking spots open and two cars were already heading for those. The one car belonged to the lady from the pub and the other to the white haired card playing yeller in the pub. He drove past and yelled at us to take his parking spot. What a nice guy!

It was Friday, it was weekend, so we packed our beachwear and headed to, yes, the beach. After inspecting all the beaches along the coast between Tellaro and La Spezia the other day we decided that the Azzurra beach just north of the Lerici centre was the one to go for.

 

 

 

 

We stopped at a parking lot right across from the beach; we could not believe our luck but, of course there was a reason for that… I fed the parking meter but it was still hungry, the meter physically noted that it wasn’t enough; it needed more, but how much more? I fed it another 50c after which it burped out my parking receipt, €2.50 for one hour. After deciding that’s how long we wanted to stay on the beach we crossed the road and found our little piece of heaven amongst the holiday crowd.

 

 

After our time was up around midday we drove northwest, through the terribly drab La Spezia and then on to Portovenere which lies about 15km further south along the coast, a rather perilous drive at times. Portovenere is an amazing little coastal town with its pastel coloured houses stacked neatly next to each other right on the waterfront… just beautiful.

 

 

We ambled along to nowhere in particular, just drinking in the scene and holiday atmosphere. While we explored the Chiesa di San Pietro church on the southern tip of the town, the super yacht Siren pulled into the harbour for a rest. What a beautifully sleek design she has. We had a beer on the waterfront watching Siren lying still at anchor and thinking… If this is how the rich live… I can surely live like this, bring it on… If only, oh, if only…

 

 

And so, like any other perfect day, it came to an end, a wonderful end…

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