Portofino

Saying goodbye to Italy…

Twelve days can’t really do justice to the wealth of experiences Italy has to offer…but we’ve had a blast attempting to. Pisa, Florence, the Tuscan region; Rome, Pompeii, Sorrento and Positano, the Umbrian region, Venice, Lake Como…and just when we’ve grasped the basics of the language…enough to order our drinks, a rough smattering of platitudes, apologies and a healthy dose of abusive road language…over the border again tomorrow, passports at the ready.

20110524-075230.jpgDicky has become the Gordon Ramsay of the Italian highway; Ducky never, ever wants to drive cliff side again…he holds up the traffic doing 20 km around those cliffs you see, and he’s not fond of the impatient drivers tooting, flashing their lights and signaling abuse behind him. Bella, Fifi and Pixi have each perfected the semi silent scream, discreet white knuckling and grabbing just the right amount of change from the car kitty within seconds for the endless tolls. Driving Italian roads is definitely not for the faint of heart.

There have been defeats too. Crossing the restaurant language barrier sufficiently to ensure20110524-075508.jpgfirst courses arrive before second and not all at once; never to change your mind for the original dish will always turn up…or nothing at all; never to expect butter…or plates, salt or ground pepper…but a great deal of bread (a symbol of welcome) and always a very, very large bottle of olive oil, along with ‘gas’ or ‘non gas’ water. Ordering a liqueur coffee is definately worth it though… just to watch the look of incredulity cross their faces.

Ducky and Bella leave us now as we cross to Switzerland then on to Paris and they to Milano, AbuDhabi and home. Dicky is remorseful…his drinking buddy and partner in crime is leaving and he’s now solo with Pixi and Fifi and their endless verbal diarrhoea…

Oh! And as for that Mediterranean diet? It’s a myth…

Private boat picnic – Portofino 20110524-075317.jpg

‘Yes of course you may share our desserts rather than select your own dearest’ – Sorrento20110524-081834.jpg

Fifi and Dicky at the Trevi Fountain – Rome
20110524-075713.jpgWe always were trend setters huh Fifi? – Monterosso – Cinque Terra20110524-075729.jpg

Exploring Pompeii20110524-075748.jpg

Fifi and Donutella – Florence20110524-075811.jpg

The gang on the Spanish Steps – Rome
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Cruising the harbor – Portofino20110524-075929.jpg

Papparazzi poses – Monterosso – Cinque Terra20110524-075230.jpg

Man of few words is Dicky –  Bellagio – Lake Como 20110524-075959.jpg
20110524-080044.jpgFarewell wayward travelers – enjoy the next leg of your journey – Lake Como

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Lunching in Portofino bay…

Look kids! Another tunnel, viaduct, tunnel! Nice to the CinqueTerra, the five lands and the sleepy fishing village of Monterosso after an endless drive through the middle of mountains and over gorges. The journey punctuated with a rewarding stop by in Portofino where Ducky suggests an impromptu boat ride. While cruising around SanFortozio we nibble freshly selected market panne, prosecuto, fromage, crimson cherries strawberries enhanced with white Balsamic. The fromage, a gently oozing Brie and aromatic chunk of Roquefort, sadly missing for Pixi’s clearly left them atop the counter  back in Nice. We mourn the loss of this perfect accompaniment to a lazy picnic with a bottle of Louis Roederer Champers.

20110511-110255.jpgDucky deserves this treat for he’s just survived his initiation into driving on the wrong side of the road, dodging oncoming maniacs at the wheel of flaming red Ferraris and random suicidal cyclists on switchback bends and narrow alleyways. And what an adorable place to do so! Absolutely recommended!

Practice replacing ‘merci’ and ‘au revoir’ with ‘grazia’ and ‘arrivederci’ and concur…pop an ‘O’ on the end of all words and we’ll have this new language conquered.

20110511-110325.jpgNegotiate our way to CinqueTerra, check in and as we explore our rooms, find Pixi’s is equivalent to a monastery… expecting a holographic cross to hover above the bed, and still pondering how to access the loo which is kinda under the sink…and as for the prospect of bending down to pick up the soap in the shower? The doubles have rooms a tad larger and as I visit, find Dickie pouring G&Ts atop his bedside table, which is actually a small fridge. Roaring with laughter, we down said aperitifs and toast our new country. Italy.

A stroll down to dine on a cliff edge, watch the sun set and a bright moon rise over the infinity and beyond’ Mediterranean…ahhh! Bellissimo!

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