Thursday, October 19, 2006

Lucca

Sunday 8 October

We arrived at Lucca in a torrential downpour, complete with thunder and lightning. It wasn't our plan to go to Lucca at all. But in the middle of the day, as we sat, dripping, in a roadside cafe eating lunch, we decided we were not in the mood for a beachy place in that kind of weather. So out the door went Viareggio and, sadly, Cinque Terre, and into the picture came Lucca. It was just about literally a stab at the map.

It turned out to be a good decision, another happy bit of luck. I must say, I would not recommend driving into a town you don't know, without a map, in a torrential rainstorm and hoping you are going to find the Tourist information office. It's quite trying to a relationship. We were both quite thankful that the slightly ambiguous Italian road signs eventually led us to the right spot and that it was actually open. We may have booked the next flight home had it been closed.

We ended up at Villa Agnese; a rather lovely converted mansion with 6 rooms. When the skies cleared and we were able to go for a walk, we discovered we were just a stone's throw from the ancient walls of the old town of Lucca, and that inside, it was a bustling, pedestrian-dominated township with lovely old churches and palazzo and piazza. It was that time again, between 5 and 7, when all the Italians seem to come out and walk around, go shopping, have a drink in a cafe. We did the same in a square opposite an ancient church, San Michele, where we watched a busker doing very enthusiastic interpretive dance to Opera music, and a wedding couple having photos taken. We chatted with an Australian couple who worked on a luxury yacht moored at Viareggio, and who had come to town for the day. The guy was a chef on the boat, but was really interested in getting into the fashion business. "You have to be prepared to lose a lot of money", Sandy advised him. I'm not sure how much he believed that, given we also told him we were sitting there on the proceeds of the sale of Sandy's fashion business.

That night we had fun at a local Osteria (these are more casual places than "ristorante") where we sat at a long table with other customers and I had a superb rabbit dish - a better, more tender version of one I had back in London at Carluccio's - with green olives and a savoury tomato sauce. Sandy had some roast lamb that had a delicious, strong lamb flavour, but was seriously the colour of chicken. We couldn't work it out. I must get to the bottom of this. We shared a tiramisu that, it must be said, puts Prego's to shame. It was truly superb. We discovered that it's easier to get dessert wine in Italy than France, because they are into sweet wine with dessert here. (In France they like to drink champagne with dessert, and sweet wine as an aperitif. Every time we asked for dessert wine they looked at us blankly, so I started asking for specific wines, like Muscat, or Beaumes de Venise. Then the light went on.) Vin Santo is the most famous Italian dessert wine, and it's quite moreish, although I recommend not drinking two glasses of it each, on top of a bottle of excellent Chianti (I chose Santa Teresa, for the name). Had we not become, let's face it, quite pissed, we probably would not have gotten completely lost in the narrow Medieval streets of Lucca for 45 minutes trying to find our way to the city wall. I would not have insisted I knew the way, Sandy would not have called my navigational skills into question, and I would not have resigned my navigator duties in a giant huff.

All was resolved the next morning, when - in perfect weather - we joined the rest of the town and strolled around the top of the city walls, which are now a public walkway. It's one of the few towns in Italy whose ancient walls are completely intact and it's a great way to get your bearings. On coming down from the walls, we discovered we could have walked home from the restaurant in 10 minutes had we turned right instead of left when we came out of the restaurant door.

We also discovered another gorgeous cathedral, San Martini, which was covered in ornate carving and extraordinary detail. (Mum, you'll be pleased to know we are lighting candles in every church we go into, just for you!) Outside the cathedral, the local firemen were putting on an activity day for kids. They had little kids dressed up in fire hats, and there were a series of obstacles for them to overcome - sliding down a pole, crawling through a tunnel - before they had a go at "putting out" a fire with a hose (Another fireman was actually controlling the gas fire with a hidden control). It was a very good way of getting kids interested in becoming firemen, we thought. It was also a good way of perving at Italian firemen, who seem every bit as cute as their antipodean cousins. My sister Shelly asked me to take pictures of cute men for her and to date I have not been very good at my task. So Shel (and Mum; I know how you like men in uniform): this one's for you. I have more to go with them (to be published in future blogs!). Once I got started I discovered lots of Mr Italias walking around! If I keep this up, I may be able to publish a "Men of Italy" calendar.

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