Pasta and pirates

We're back from Italia and a hideaway in the hills where internet coverage was at best incredibly dodgy (unless you managed to drain all of Tom's wifi hub data allowance, ha ha).

The hills were actually alive... with grasshoppers

The day before we went we walked as near as we could get to the Meije Glacier at Col de Lauteret and then had a picnic. Charlie heroically ran up and then down a mountain, but fell over just before we reached the car park and slightly brained himself on a rock. Luckily his skull is very thick indeed. 

Then the next day we drove to Italy along the autostrada from the Alps to Tuscany via Turin and Piacenza, before deciding to go on the local roads past Parma, Modena and Bologna in the vague hope that a hunk of Parmesan or a bottle of balsamic vinegar might spontaneously drop through our open car window. Instead, we just had a monumental argument in Parma. It began as a disagreement over parking and then matured into all-out character assassinations. More significantly we failed to get any ham or cheese for which the city is famous. After the remainder of the drive sat in grim silence, we arrived in the beautiful Tuscan hills just in time for dinner and a glass of the excellent local wine which we drank by the gallon.

The ultimate argument diffuser

We stayed at Agriturismo Corboli in the hills outside San Querico about halfway between Bologna and Florence. There were plenty of people staying there, including our friends Tom and Mary with their son James and a two lovely German families with children of similar ages. Charlie had a great week, released from the boredom of hanging out the 'rents. He and James remained in character as pirates for the entire week as well as regularly performing a strange ritual 'ca-chika' dance for the little German girls (à la Gob in Arrested Development).

 

The boys in a rare non-pirate moment

One day we visited Bologna, hired bicycles and visited two stunning churches which were enlivened by Tom's brief but detailed module in the history of architecture so that we're now fully appraised on Gothic arches and flying buttresses. We were unfortunately slightly foxed by the food scene for which Bologna is renowned, as we turned up to an amazing indoor market which was understandably bustling and afforded four adults and two toddlers no space to sit and eat. We eventually compromised by sitting on what admittedly was a sort of hybrid bench-ashtray where we hurriedly stuffed down various pastas in ragu sauce (not the kind peddled by mildly offensive Italian stereotype muppets, thank goodness).

We then made up for this sub-optimal experience by locating the most amazing gelato palace that to our minds has ever existed (Cremeria Funivia). I don't think it's an exaggeration to say it's the best ice cream we've ever tried, in fact sitting writing this in the Alps it's almost tempting to drive the 10hour+ round trip to go back for seconds. IT WAS AMAZING. The inside of the parlour looked part science lab part wonka-esque fantasy. We got a pretty decent selection, Charlie had plain chocolate, but there really was nothing plain about it. Katie went for lemon and strawberry sorbet, refreshingly clean and bursting with flavor. Ed went for the triple threat of dark chocolate, cherry and to finish white chocolate and hazelnut. Did we mention how good it was? It was very good.

Before

After

It should come as no surprise to those of you that know us and know Tuscany that we generally ate very well the whole week. Every night after the kids had been put to bed we sat outside, watching the hills turn green-to-pink-to-grey, trying in vain to keep the mosquitoes from feasting on us and putting away about 729 bottles of red wine and pigging out on take away pizza, chicken in white wine, Tuscan sausage and bean stew, or various pastas and fresh tomato mozzarella and basil (the hills were alive with wild herbs which infused everything we cooked with a heady depth of flavor). 

We alternated days hanging out by the pool and occasionally throwing the kids in with more adventurous outings including Siena, which Ed remembered well from a family trip to see the Palio in the mid nineties. Unsurprisingly the close proximity to horses galloping at full speed round the central cobbled square without any adequate barrier to protect the spectators left a pretty vivid memory and he managed to point out the exact point on the circuit where he stood as a teenager. 

This is why Ed usually wears black...

We scaled the Torre del Mangia for more vertiginous views of the city.

"Pirates always climb towers"

Then managed to get the kids to pose for possibly the grumpiest photo they could muster at the top. 

The princes in the tower

View from the top

On the way down

Prior to that we felt we needed a hearty meal to fuel our touristic endeavors so we found a great little buffet serving a lovely selection of pastas, cured and cooked meats and artichoke hearts. James guarded the restaurant and threatened to keelhaul any landlubbers who dared step aboard

About 10 people stopped to photograph him, he's probably trending somewhere right now

We decided to prolong our stay an extra night and this proved not entirely successful as all day Friday we were treated to an antediluvian* rainstorm. We cowered in our tiny lodgings cooking buttery eggs and hotdogs and steadily getting more and more cabin feverish until eventually around 4pm the clouds briefly parted and allowed us to get a very brief sodden stomp down the hillside before dinner. Still we were grateful to have not had to drive through the maelstrom and it was lovely to spend one more day with Mary, Tom and James.

We decided to set off at a leisurely pace for our return to the Alps, and decided to make Charlie's year by visiting the Ferrari factory in Maranello, after first buying him a model F1 car and allowing him to watch the Grand Prix qualifying while eating pizza for lunch. It might have been the best day of his life. 

Ed's favourite Ferrari. Might look in Autotrader when we get back in case we can just pick one up.

As we pushed on North the weather deteriorated and we ended up driving into the Alps in similarly torrential rain as we had experienced the day before. This wasn't much fun on the descent into Briancon in the pitch dark but thankfully the trusty VW delivered us safely back to our home from home and we've settled back into our Alpine retreat. When we woke up the next morning, it was apparent that Autumn had arrived in our absence. So we went and bought firewood from a man missing most of his fingers and ate smores for dinner tonight...

Charlie had such a sugar high he did laps of the room squealing, good reaction...

*Ed's private education is showing here because Katie sure as hell didn't learn the word 'antediluvian' at Theale Green comprehensive. Christ.