Non sognare che sia finita or Don't dream it's over (Assisi to Florence)

Yes, a Crowded House classic from the mid 1980's. Why is that our title for today? All will soon become apparent my patient reader.

Assisi post-script: Assisi is the town of the animal-loving St Francis. There were cats, big ones, everywhere; under cars, sitting on the roof of cars, on the stairs, almost everywhere you looked. And pigeons. One of the narrow streets we walked down was like a scene from Hitchcock's The Birds. You couldn't see a pigeon anywhere but you could hear them. It was like they were watching and waiting. Then, in a Monty Python moment (The Holy Grail), swallows, the European variety and they are quite large. Their call is like a whistle and it is a constant in the air behind our apartment. I'm quite sure they could carry a coconut, although they would sacrifice some of their speed. As they flew past our balcony, I assume chasing insects, they came very close and you could hear the whoosh as they swept by. Then there were dogs: local ones that chorused into the night for no apparent reason (thank God for double glazed windows!!) and then there were dogs that were accompanied by their American owners wandering around the commune - who takes their dog on an overseas holiday besides Dan Campbell and Johnny Depp?

The view of Assisi Commune from the station

Breakfast: OK, let's talk the most important meal of the day. Coffee - that's a given and in Italy is a double shot espresso (caffe doppio). Yum. Served with water. Food? I hear you ask my fascinated reader. Well, pastries and muffin style things in the cafes we frequented. This morning we both had what approximated a pain au chocolat, except it was a croissant. However, it was heated and the inside became molten hazelnut chocolate encased in a deliciously light and flaky pastry. This was more a dessert than a breakfast, although it did get the heart started and provided me (but not Jayne) with sufficient sugar for the entire day. Casual observation.... Starbucks appears no where in Italy thus far - they have taken over London - literally on every corner, but sanity and taste have prevailed here.

The bus trip to the train station was no less comfortable than the taxi ride from the station up the mountain to the Assisi commune. The difference was in the price, 18€ for the taxi and 4€ for the bus. Still, I’d take a taxi to our accommodation every time if only because we’d never been there before.

As you would know dear reader I am paranoid about punctuality even in the most relaxed situations. When it comes to punctuality, because we have a rendezvous with transport, my anxiety is somewhat heightened. Suffice to say we arrived at the station almost an hour before our train was due.

Sadly there was no free wifi. So as Jayne sat reading her book, I listened to Italian radio. It was fascinating to let the melody into your subconscious even though the words had little meaning. After a few moments you are humming along … wait, that’s Crowded House,  Don’t Dream It’s Over, being covered by an Italian singer. In France, it wasalways Gotye and Somebody that I used to know... in cafés, in supermarchés, on Metro stations.

Let’s talk about … food and wine.

Do the Italians have the food thing stitched up or what? Pizza, pasta, wine and coffee, who could ask for more? Jayne says gelato too.

I could eat pizza every day and have had to force myself to eat other things, to the extent where I find myself looking longingly at salads and vegetables. It made me feel cheap and dirty, like I was being unfaithful and cheating in some way, but I need vegetables! a voice in my head whispered. Man cannot live on pizza alone, (although I’d give it a shot). Thank God for Caprese salad, beautiful fresh tomatoes, basil and creamy buffalo mozzarella. Or bruschetta. They both compliment pizza anyway.

The pasta has been superb too. Light, fresh and homemade. We’ve had it with truffles, with lime butter, ravioli filled with boar, fettucine smothered in mushrooms. Not a bad meal since that first ill-fated night in Rome.

Then there is the wine. A dazzling choice and so reasonably priced. My lack of knowledge of Italian wines is not a hindrance - I have deferred to the waiter every time. In Assisi, at one of the many places that sold wine, they recommended the ‘top’ wine to us. The white was craftily named: Bianco, from the Villa Fidelia winery and retailed for 12€. The red from the same winery was named, in the interests of creativity and honesty, Rosso and cost 16€. Both were delightful, but the white, as a 50:50 blend of Chardonnay and a local grape, Grechetto, was the stand out. Good fruit, honey at the back of the palate and a great mouth feel. I’ll be chasing that for a wine club wine at some future time.

The view from the apartment

Transit:
Once again the train trip and transfers went as expected. The train was a little late arriving in Florence, but not that would cause an issue. Our new accommodation is less then 10 minutes walk for the station and has views over the piazza and the dome of the Basilica de San Lorenzo. As I tap away on the keys, we can hear a busker on his sax and the general noise of people floating up to us from the street markets below. 

We've had lunch/dinner, found a supermarket and a bottle shop so we are set. Cointreau is only 14€ for 700ml!!

Now we are heading back out for an orientation walk and to check out where we are meeting our guide tomorrow for our half day tour. First impressions - there are more beggars here than Rome. The streets are as narrow and as crowded and we are situated right in the centre of the market district. The smell of leather is everywhere - yippeeeeee!!!! Handbags and jackets and maybe another suitcase to wheel home???? As we go to press, the day markets are packing up and the Algerians with their sheets, knock offs and watches have moved in for the night - makes me think of Paris.