Middle-aged flash packers

So we packed up our stuff and said goodbye to Pacentro, but not before Nona grabbed us and tried to delay our departure by offering us coffee. 

Nona was definitely lying in wait for us and as Steve went to collect the car from down the road, I had another, weird Italian/French/English conversation with her. The general gist was that Nona had lived in Luxembourg for many years which is how she could speak French, and her father went to England during the war when she was very little and never returned. A bit awkward but she didn’t hold it against me and we gave each other a big hug before Steve and I set off to explore the delights of Puglia.

It was an uneventful journey but I do have to comment on the Italian mindset when stopping at service stations along the autostrada.

The need to be in a herd is very strong. So strong that even with my car door open and at least 29 other spaces to park in, someone has to park next to me, meaning I have to shut my door and then become Houdini to get in and out.

At another services, again lots of space, a van parks longways right behind us making it super difficult to get out. Stop it you silly people!

Next bit of ridiculousness is filling up the car. Call me old fashioned but I love it when someone fills my car up for me and as an extra bonus, cleans the windscreen too. They still do this at some petrol stations here. Unfortunately not at this one. 

No, at this one you have a machine that you pay money into first then fill up after. So basically you have to guess how much you need. We did and we guessed wrong. We overpaid by two euros. Ok, not much but try getting a refund. Computer says no. 15 minutes later the woman at the garage took pity on us and just gave us two euros. Errr dear Italian petrol stations, in the U.K we put our credit card in before we fill up, computer takes the correct amount of money, we drive off. Everyone happy – capisci?

Anyway, we arrived at the hotel which seemed very nice. We are shown to our room which is also very nice but no balcony as promised in our booking. No problem, we are moved to a balcony room with a lovely view – right across the hotel roof. Ah well, can’t have it all. 

Let’s go for a swim in the pool and have a leisurely afternoon. Ah, we are sharing the pool with 60+ local teenagers. It’s open to the public. Great. Constant bombing, football round the pool, much loudness and posturing from both sexes. Hmm. This is karma payback time for having had two boisterous teenage boys who, in the past, didn’t always behave as well as they should. 

Interestingly the teenagers broke every pool rule without reprimand from the lifeguards but every single one of them wore a swim cap. Now had that been me as a teenager I would have rather have died than worn one. 

Anyway, every cloud has a silver lining and I didn’t need to read my book at all, far too much people watching to do. The kids were ok and when I told them to bugger off with their football they did. Must be my Ardmore training.

Later we sauntered into the old town which is very charming indeed. Everything centres around the old castle and we had a delicious meal. Steve even enjoyed the pasta and wants to go back tomorrow night! (He’s not a fan of Italian food). He was a bit drunk though. We had 1/2 a carafe of what was described as “sweet red wine” – I swear it was port. An “on the house” limoncello (another thing Steve swore he would never drink again) and it was surprising we found our way home.