Porto Ercole, Necropolis Banditaccia & Borgo Centore
Day 374
We spent the afternoon sloshing about in the big waves that we were having that day, before chomping down a chicken salad at the bar with the beautiful, uncomfortable wooden stools while a young chap of about three stomped around, stark bollock naked.If you feel this entry has started a bit cold, or are wondering where it is I’m talking about, go back and read the last blog, then come back. I’ll be fucked if I’m recapping, like all episodic TV shows insist on doing these days.
Porto Ercole
Anyway, we then left the uncomfortable stool place and got on the road, continuing down the west coast. As we drove we passed a large sunflower field where, bizarrely, all the sunflowers were turning their heads away from the sun. A little further on we passed a massive overturned lorry in a ditch to the side of the road; quite a harrowing sight but at least it explained what the sunflowers were looking at.We eventually came to a spot up in the hills near Porto Ercole, on a semi-detached bit of land south of Grosseto. We parked the van under some pines and had a great view of the sea below us through the trees.
Soon, a cat appeared, so Rach went ‘’Cat!’’ then got up to try and adopt him forever. She named him Squeak because he squook when we gave him some milk. Once he’d finished the milk, he squoke for more, so we gave him one more bowl. I say bowl, it was one of the little plastic dishes we’d saved from the frozen yogurts in Pisa. Rach loves saving plastic containers which, I have to say, mildly irritates me. Okay, it’s good for the environment to re-use stuff, but there's something about washing up plastic that always seems faintly ridiculous.
The next day we ventured on foot down the hill to the coast, where we’d heard plenty of fun being had the previous evening. We arrived at what was an amazing rocky beach with ultra clear blue water and little silvery blue fish. We talked about buying some snorkels as we had another splash about, before making our way back up the hill to the van and getting on our way.
The big fishing plant place
The next place we arrived at was also right on the sea. There were many other campers there, some of which appeared to be almost permanent dwellers. There were security guards manning the area, which seemed slightly unnecessary considering how much space there was. The stop was right next to a giant fish processing plant, which actually looked pretty impressive, especially when lit up at night.In the morning we were woken up by a couple of the guards apologetically asking us to move the van one space to the right, even though there were no ‘spaces’, it was just a massive piece of land with traffic cones scattered randomly about. There was acres of room all around us and nobody was even waiting to move into our place. Our moving was totally pointless. I really did wonder if they were just having us on. I mean, fair play if they were. Although I probably wouldn’t be so magnanimous about it had I specifically been woken; I didn't mention it before but it was actually Rach who woke up and moved the van.
Ancient tombs
We made our way further south and spent a pleasant, unexpected afternoon looking around some 3000 year old tombs at Necropolis Banditaccia. Rach shat herself every time I walked down into one of the small dark holes shouting ‘’hello?’’. It was mightily hot. After I’d shouted hello down all the holes, we walked back and had a shower at the back of the van using the water from a nearby tap. We never use the cubicle on the van because spending time in there in this heat is like spending time in a rancid furnace. I can just about handle the time it takes to have a piss. One day it'll make one hell of a tomb, I tell you.We got on our way again, spending 8 hours on a journey which Google Maps said should only take 3. This was largely thanks to one particularly bad traffic jam in which we crawled past three separate accidents on the same road. I can’t think of a better anecdote to illustrate the quality of Italian driving. They are shit.
Borgo Centore
Twelve car accidents later we finally arrived at our destination for the next couple of days - a great little secluded spot on a hump of land at the back of a campsite in Borgo Centore, about 30 metres from the sea, with beautiful 360 views.It turned out it was a dogging spot, but we didn’t let that bother us. We’d watch bloke after bloke turn up in their hatchbacks, sit around for ten minutes, then drive off again. They presumably all drive hatchbacks for the extra space. More ‘headroom’, as it were. Very wise.
On the first evening I tried to find the comet, ‘Neowise’ in the night sky, but unfortunately failed. The next afternoon we were looking skywards again as a guy in a weird motorized glider type thing buzzed over our heads and waved hello before disappearing up the coastline. Fucking doggers were coming at us from all angles.
On the second evening a portly little Italian-Canadian bloke in a flat cap came over with his wife to say hello and have a look at the van. In return, he took Rach to his car to show her his trumpet. We are never going back to that spot ever again.
On the first evening I tried to find the comet, ‘Neowise’ in the night sky, but unfortunately failed. The next afternoon we were looking skywards again as a guy in a weird motorized glider type thing buzzed over our heads and waved hello before disappearing up the coastline. Fucking doggers were coming at us from all angles.
On the second evening a portly little Italian-Canadian bloke in a flat cap came over with his wife to say hello and have a look at the van. In return, he took Rach to his car to show her his trumpet. We are never going back to that spot ever again.
So funny...doggers and trumpets 🤣🤣🤣
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