ITALY 1

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"You can't go wrong with Italy"; so said Chis Langham's character in the satirical sitcom 'The Thick of It', and after two trips there I think he's probably right.

I'd never been to Tuscany before mind, my first excursion to this Latin delight being a thorough investigation of Lombardy with my parents circa 1992. It was in fact my first trip outside of the British Isles and a very pleasant experience it was too. Now, nearly 13 years later I was return to an area renowned for it's natural beauty which judging by the scenery in evidence first time around had a lot to live up to

Ones first impression when driving out of Pisa on the last day of May (apart from the heat) is of a very flat land mass separating the Mediterranean Sea from the Apennines, the range of mountains that separates Tuscany, Umbria and Lazio from the rest of the country. One would think such planar quality would help with navigation, offering up views of landmarks that may be otherwise obscured, but it doesn't really because when we take a wrong turn it takes us a while to discern whether or not we have done so. It sort of becomes apparent to us after passing a sign indicating, via the use of a diagonally bisecting line, that we have now left the town of Pontdero, a town that we weren't intending on exiting from an easterly direction should we hope to make the highway south to Voltera. So we stop for something to eat. We'd been intending to stop for something to eat and it gives us a good opportunity to study our map and plot a route back to the freeway. It also gives us a chance to interact with some Italian rural types who happen not speak a word of English. Despite this we mange to order the sustenance we require from this dusty roadside cafe and within half an hour or so be back happily on our way to Tuscany's hinterland. For about 20 minutes at least.
We find the turning I, as navigator, had been looking for only to discover that it leads us straight onto a dirt track running parallel with a storm drain, the other side of which lies the freeway we're supposed to be on . After persevering with the dirt track for about 30 metres in the vain attempt that we might discover some mythical route back to where I assume we are supposed to be, we decide the suspension of our Smart Saloon is probably not designed for such treatment and make an abrupt about turn. From there it's back through Pontdero until we find signs orienteering us in the direction we were always supposed to go (it was very easily missed I will have you know) and a little further before I mange to make sense of the map again and plant ourselves firmly back on our route south to Volterra.
And what a journey it turns out to be, the roads gradually getting windier, the hills hillier and the vegetation wilder. It takes about 3 hours, I suppose, to make it Ulignano where my friend has hired a villa, on the grounds of which he will have a number of parties and, more crucially, his wedding reception. The villa doesn't disappoint, and nor does the nearby town of Volterra where a number of us are actually residing. That evening we eat out in the square, then wander down medieval lanes to drink outside on cobbled streets before heading back to our hotel - a sort of Latin B & B - to finish of the job of getting drunk in the rear garden. Seeming like a million miles from the nearest metropolis he whole thing has got to be some sort of paradise?

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