Rimini, Ravenna & Comacchio
Rimini
The first thing I did in Rimini was eat a Triple Big King 3.0 Rodeo burger from Burger King. And while it was spirit-bendingly delicious, it did utterly destroy me. It was humongous. To be honest, the extra chicken burger with cheese and bacon was probably overkill.When exploring places, we often find ourselves walking inexplicably quickly, when there is absolutely no reason we shouldn’t be strolling casually. On this occasion though, considering the amount of calories I’d just taken on, it probably made sense to work up a bit of a sweat.
Rimini is a great old coastal town to the east of San Marino, featuring some eclectic sights: plenty of Roman ruins, a ferris wheel, many bars with lots of style and character, and a Burger King. It had one of the oldest Roman bridges and the oldest Triumphal Arch in Italy. The Arch was built in 27BC which is way too old if you ask me.
Cesenatico
There are many little towns of Rimini’s ilk in this part of Italy. After Rimini we had a quick gander round the nearby Cesenatico, whose Floating Maritime Museum on the canal features many wonderful old sailing boats. I really want to know who painted the boats’ sails though. The motifs were weird. On one sail was a big crab. Another had a horse attacking a snake. One just had a massive chair painted on it. Odd. Cesenatico also had a Ferris Wheel. They do seem to like them in north-east Italy.Ravenna
I’m a bit worried Rach’s ability to be impressed has been impaired from all this traveling. Ravenna features a beautiful 5th century Basilica, mosaics in the streets, some atmospheric public squares with great bars serving delicious cocktails, and a cathedral with a basement swimming pool filled with goldfish... but still she wasn’t impressed. To be fair, she didn’t dislike the place, she just wasn’t that bothered. Fair enough.The parking was great though. Lots of space, free, peaceful and only a five minute walk from the town. I say peaceful, there was an endless chorus of barking from dogs in the distance. That was nothing new though. There’s always distant barking in northern Italy. Many people have dogs here, and they don’t seem at all bothered by the incessant barking, which is so strange to me, as whenever I hear persistent barking, I want to force long, hot, sharp things into my ears.
There was an older English couple at the park up. We had a brief chat with them as they walked past our back doors. They were from Hertfordshire. I thought about shouting, ‘’We’re Villa!’’ in an extremely thick and aggressive manner, but didn’t think they’d find it that amusing, so I didn’t bother.
In the evening we watched The Social Dilemma, a documentary on the Netflix app about how you shouldn’t use apps. I’ve noticed how it’s become fashionable for documentaries to introduce their talking heads by showing them either sitting down or being mic’d up. I find it mightily irritating, and once you’ve noticed it you can’t not notice it. A decent documentary though, about the tricks and techniques the big tech companies use to hog your attention. 2.3 seconds into the documentary’s end credits, Netflix fired up the next show it assumed I wanted to watch.
The Social Dilemma
After leaving Ravenna we spent a night in what was basically a private garden being run as a campsite, as we were in desperate need of showers. Or so Rach said. When we asked where the showers were, the owner explained that they were closed due to COVID19. Seemed a bit OTT to me, as this was post-WAVE I but pre-WAVE II, but hey ho, that was the score. They did have an outdoor cold shower which wasn’t too bad, so it wasn’t too bad.In the evening we watched The Social Dilemma, a documentary on the Netflix app about how you shouldn’t use apps. I’ve noticed how it’s become fashionable for documentaries to introduce their talking heads by showing them either sitting down or being mic’d up. I find it mightily irritating, and once you’ve noticed it you can’t not notice it. A decent documentary though, about the tricks and techniques the big tech companies use to hog your attention. 2.3 seconds into the documentary’s end credits, Netflix fired up the next show it assumed I wanted to watch.
Comacchio
Comacchio is a little town about an hour north of Rimini. It’s nickname is ‘Little Venice’’. Not sure why, but one thing is for sure: the network of canals it sits on are delightful. We spent the afternoon wandering it’s streets, which were almost eerily quiet. Especially when it got dark; the starless sky gave the effect of a giant black ceiling hovering above the lit streets and perfectly still canals, like we were on a film set constructed within a giant warehouse. Sort of like in that great Phillip Seymour Hoffman film, 'Synechdoche, New York'.Comacchio also had the loudest duck in the known universe. It’s quack was at least five times louder than average, and I would know, I’m very interested in mallard acoustics.
I have to say, I really enjoyed the waste area. The regular automatic flush made it sound like a little babbling brook, sort of like in that scene in the snow garden at the end of Kill Bill Vol. 1 (on fire with the film references or what?). It really was very pleasant, which is something I thought I’d never say about a waste disposal area.
The pleasancy soon came to an ugly, violent halt one evening, however, when a camper arrived to empty their black waste (which is the technical term for brown waste).
I was sat facing the beautiful babbling waste area, minding my own business on my laptop, when from beneath this motorhome came a violent expulsion, flinging poo all everywhere. Bits of it had been shot out from under the van and were scattered all over my beautiful waste area. I hadn’t actually seen the moment it happened, I'd just caught it out of the corner of my eye and then looked up to see it all everywhere. CHRONIC HORROR. I remember calmly saying to Rach, ‘’oh my God’’ followed by ‘’get on the van’’.
We spent the next ten minutes sat in the van with the door closed and our COVID19 masks on (I also held the duvet over my face) while the old lady of the shit-mobile casually pottered around the outside of the vehicle hosing dozens of turds into the waste hole like she hadn’t a care in the world. In fact, I’m sure she was whistling, although that may have just been a delirium-induced hallucination on my part. The episode was comfortably the most horrendous thing I’ve ever seen, and one of the worst things I’ve ever smelled, in my life. In a way, it came at a good time. We were beginning to feel jealous of proper motorhomes and their 'simple' discharge systems.
We tried to take our minds off the horror. The amazing sunset helped and Rach did a bit of yoga as I took some photos of some large bugs. A kind I really like actually. Shield bugs I think they’re called. Not sure why, but they have these amazing shell-like backs in the shape of the piece of personal armour an old soldier or knight would have attached to his forearm for protection in battle. The bugs made a sort of loud farting noise when they flew, which was of course the last thing we needed to hear.
On our last evening in the campsite I could hear some really weird noises outside in the green and yellow fields. It was either some type of animal, or the strange family of teenagers who’d been mysteriously hanging around the camper area for the last three days. Strange, because they appeared to be in a normal, non-converted van and had no change of clothes. A bit like in… nah, I can’t think of a film this time.
Disgusting black waste explosion horror
We were due to meet my dad on 19th September, in Verona. We spent the few days we had before that in a free motorhome area about an hour away. It was quite a new area, and had free electricity and water. Superb. Our kitchen sink tank was really starting to reek of ‘the usual egg’ (this was the phrase I used at the time, and I still don’t know what I meant by it, but it somehow works). We’d bought some ammonia to sort it, which we did over at the waste area.I have to say, I really enjoyed the waste area. The regular automatic flush made it sound like a little babbling brook, sort of like in that scene in the snow garden at the end of Kill Bill Vol. 1 (on fire with the film references or what?). It really was very pleasant, which is something I thought I’d never say about a waste disposal area.
The pleasancy soon came to an ugly, violent halt one evening, however, when a camper arrived to empty their black waste (which is the technical term for brown waste).
I was sat facing the beautiful babbling waste area, minding my own business on my laptop, when from beneath this motorhome came a violent expulsion, flinging poo all everywhere. Bits of it had been shot out from under the van and were scattered all over my beautiful waste area. I hadn’t actually seen the moment it happened, I'd just caught it out of the corner of my eye and then looked up to see it all everywhere. CHRONIC HORROR. I remember calmly saying to Rach, ‘’oh my God’’ followed by ‘’get on the van’’.
We spent the next ten minutes sat in the van with the door closed and our COVID19 masks on (I also held the duvet over my face) while the old lady of the shit-mobile casually pottered around the outside of the vehicle hosing dozens of turds into the waste hole like she hadn’t a care in the world. In fact, I’m sure she was whistling, although that may have just been a delirium-induced hallucination on my part. The episode was comfortably the most horrendous thing I’ve ever seen, and one of the worst things I’ve ever smelled, in my life. In a way, it came at a good time. We were beginning to feel jealous of proper motorhomes and their 'simple' discharge systems.
We tried to take our minds off the horror. The amazing sunset helped and Rach did a bit of yoga as I took some photos of some large bugs. A kind I really like actually. Shield bugs I think they’re called. Not sure why, but they have these amazing shell-like backs in the shape of the piece of personal armour an old soldier or knight would have attached to his forearm for protection in battle. The bugs made a sort of loud farting noise when they flew, which was of course the last thing we needed to hear.
On our last evening in the campsite I could hear some really weird noises outside in the green and yellow fields. It was either some type of animal, or the strange family of teenagers who’d been mysteriously hanging around the camper area for the last three days. Strange, because they appeared to be in a normal, non-converted van and had no change of clothes. A bit like in… nah, I can’t think of a film this time.
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