Italy 90 - washer women, thermal baths, porcetta with broccoli italian style with aperol spritzers

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Thought for the day : You were born with wings , you are not meant for crawling, so don’t. You have wings . Learn how to use them and fly. Dialal Ad-Din Rumi wrote this and it feels a little true although we have taken up the slow crawl around what is a beautiful country. We move ever so slowly down the leg of Italy. This is a truly stunning part of the world and I don’t want to fly over it as that would mean I was back home again.

Our next stop was Bagno Vignoni a place we had passed many times on the road as we passed to somewhere else. It was one of those place names that sounds evocative – Bagno – a bath, something to do with water and thermal springs. We passed Poggibonsi – now that always makes me smile. Fancy calling a place Poggibonsi . We hit quite literally the bumpy roads which are the hallmark of the area. Potholes inside potholes. Deeper than any we see back home. Ruts and bits of the road falling away. We rattle and roll along Suzy being shaken up to within an inch of her life. Plates and cutlery rattling . How things never break I shall never know. These must be some of the worse roads in Europe. Perhaps EU money ran up before they could be brought up to a better standard. Each year as we pass through we think the same thing that next year will be better. Just like Del Boy of Only Fools and Horses next year he thought he would be a millionaire . Next year the roads around here will be resurfaced and smooth as they could be. Dreams. All of them It just won't happen.

There was an enormous car park for Bagno but as always the motorhomers were kept at the furthest point away with the farthest walk to do. The sun streamed on us though as we walked through the rosemary which is just coming into bloom. . The weather was being kind for this early and the landscape had changed. The plantlife different with cacti in places, growing alongside those swathes of pretty rosemary which gave off a heady scent as we brushed by . .

Bagno was empty. I would hate to visit high season. A handful of Germans, a few Italians and us. It is a strange place. Picture the scene. There are not many houses in the town and in fact to call it a town is perhaps a little incorrect. It is not even a village just a handful of houses all mellow and yellow in that typical Tuscan stone. One hotel stands on the corner and when you round that corner you find an arcaded street. Perhaps street is not the right description more an alleyway . Across the alley is another arcaded walkway and this covers all four sides of a very large outdoor bath. Sion wanted to tell his friend Woolly that he needs to keep away from here as it looks like one great big sheep dip. We on the other hand thought it was charming.



it is a small spa of mainly medieval origin but was apparently used in the Roman times. The water is at a constant 52 degrees . There used to be openings for the women of the village to go into the water to wash their clothes. Or perhaps to enter the water for a swim. Now it is not allowed . All the openings are bricked up. The water in the middle looks inviting and probably is rather warm. The thermal bubbling stream pumps water in keeping it clean and warm. You can walk round it in five minutes. It is not that big but what is there is perfectly formed and a fascinating part of an older Italian life in a small town. Sadly as always photo opportunities can be hard to find as the smallness of the place means that people can and do walk in front of the camera. But if you wait a few minutes they move on and the perfect picture postcard view can be taken. Being a swimmer I would have loved to have tried out its thermal waters.

We left the main watery square which was surrounded by cafes spilling into the one street and found a back street. Back streets often provide better and cheaper eating alternatives. We picked the only restaurant there and sat under the umbrella waiting to be served . Behind us a bus load of German tourists on the Italian tourist trail. There was a fantastic range of local and regional dishes all at probably a price you would prefer to pay for an evening meal rather than a dinner time one but we bit the bullet and decided to eat early in the day and have something less substantial later. There was a dish of the day but we chose the local pork. Porchetta reared locally and fed on some Tuscan delicacies it came beautifully cooked on a bed of broccoli. Not broccoli as we know it back in Britain . We eat the heart of it a little in the same way as we eat a cauliflower heart . Here they pick it early when there is little heart and cook the leaves in oils and butters. Simply delicious served with a serving of small roasted potatoes cooked the only way Italians can cook them. Perfection. A small beer, a bottle of water and an Aperol Spritzer to wash it down. What more could you wish for ? Life couldn’t be much sweeter than this. I don’t want to go home.

We have a wish list for holidays and now we can tick off thermal spring from that wish list, medieval villages and pan forte. A good couple of days all round I say.

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