Wednesday 2 August

We made a very slow morning start at the modest Hotel Cavour in Asti. Yesterday’s activities had taken their toll and David felt under the weather as well as weary. Our train left at 11.13 from platform 2 at the station immediately opposite the hotel, scheduled to arrive at Follonica at 15.50. This remarkable Inter-City train originates at Turin, and eventually arrives at Salerno, well south of Naples, at 22.30.

I had been apprehensive about this journey; what if …. there’s no air-conditioning; …the mosquitoes are bad; …the loos don’t work; …it doesn’t arrive… and so on. In fact first class tickets at no great expense – less than €40 to travel 370km – guaranteed excellent seats, cool air, and working facilities, and more or less ran to time. The long journey was timely; David had received his final instructions from the book’s editor – a final check of all the previous corrections as well page layout, and decisions about photos and maps – all needed by Friday when it goes to the printers! As we travelled down the coast of Italy he solemnly viewed the first 80 pages.

David cunningly booked a taxi by text half an hour before the train arrived at Follonica station. We were met and conveyed to Il Girifalco on the edge of Massa Marittima by 16.30 (the bus – which we have used in the past – only left at 18.00)

It was a delight to be greeted by Simone (who had hosted David’s 65th birthday celebrations in 2019) Our absence during the intervening years was conveniently ascribed to covid, from which none of her family had succumbed in any serious way, and then not until 2022, and after four vaccinations. Ours was a remarkably similar story!

It was particularly good to unpack completely in one of their upgraded rooms, of which they are still very proud (no dogs allowed here) and to rest awhile. I felt tremendous relief not to be charging about in a car!

We walked up the short hill in the sultry, warm evening into the busy streets teeming with August holiday makers, noting the expansion of some familiar businesses and the decline, even absence of one or two (the in-town hotel Il Sole, and the Mura Antiche ristorante below the Duomo), and, typically savvy, a wheelbarrow suspended out of harm’s way.

We saw Gian Paolo in the distance, and were greeted warmly at La Tana dei Brilli and at Grassini where we booked supper for Friday and tomorrow nights, before tackling Magdi and Monica – whose enoteca Il Bacchino continues more or less as before with the recent addition of comic Alberto as a waiter.

‘Nothing changes under the sun!’ said Magdi with a grimace – though later added that La Tronca (the most traditional ristorante in town) had changed hands and now customer-facing Alessio had replaced the dour ‘Maremmani’ – men of the Maremma.

We ate slowly (it was busy – and carefully as David was still under the weather) at Le Mura where we had our first ever meal in Massa Marittima in 2007 with Vanessa from the British Institute of Florence as part of the Summer school. The photo below was taken there in 2009 a much younger Janet; once again watched the sun go down over the hills.

Thursday 3 August

This was the most extraordinary day for its ordinariness – at least here in Italy – where David spent the whole day checking the remaining 330 pages of the book, making last-minute changes, selecting b&w versus colour photos, and re-writing the cover blurb, and adding the gorgeous grapes photo to the cover. I read the rest of Cesare Pavese’s famous short, sad and rather depressing novel – A beautiful summer – begun in Peschiera in April; then virtually wrote up the whole of this holiday’s blog (never normally achieved for weeks!) The air-conditioned room made a brilliant office, and the corrections were dispatched at 17.19 (BST). Rebecca Clare now has a working day to process it all! Such a relief…

Meanwhile today our eldest grandchild turned 10, and his brilliant events-organising mother had teed up all available family members (some uncles, some cousins and an extra grandma) to celebrate at their home in Alresford. The photos are delightful. We were sorry to miss it.

We ate, as many times before, in Grassini’s ristorante right next to the entrance to the square in which the Operas are performed. (this is largely strategic: it has the nearest loo (though one has to learn the knack of flushing it) so retaining a third of the bottle for consumption in the interval is vale la pena! – worth the trouble!) As ever there was consternation about restrictions (the area needs to be cleared by 20.00) and tensions mounted as time passed. It is all part of the experience…

We sauntered to La Tronca to observe the new house style – bright young things literally trotting in and out of the kitchen exit to use the walkways for speedier delivery – and to book for Saturday. Unusually the performance began on the dot of 21.15…. and finished at 12 midnight.

Tonight’s Opera is Carmen; Bizet, sung in French to an Italian audience. Carmen herself was sassy, sultry but a tad tuned-down, both literally and metaphorically. By contrast, Don Josè was extraordinarily expressive and spent alot of time writhing on the floor while propping himself up for his arias. He certainly conveyed the conflicting emotions of passion and rationality. The orchestra was excellent; the ballet clearly brought in to add a third dimension of real professionalism, was outstanding.

The children were a tad chaotic but added sentimental interest.

Back in the hotel by 12.30 am and spent ten minutes trying to extinguish a deviant wall light which only responded to the removal of the electronic key… whose socket then flashed blue all night! Amen…

Friday 4 August

A late start for breakfast; a desultory internet search for train times and taxis for next Monday, and a nervous down-beat morning waiting for Rebecca’s acknowledging email. Eventually something arrived, and after a anxious 30 seconds (one line was missing!) all seemed well. Her final adjustments (she said) would be heralded by a text at 14.00(BST).

I adore the cover; yesterday’s last minute choice of a fabulous bunch of perlaverga piccolo changing colour (aka veraison) looks fantastic! Lunch was slow but delicious, and great value at Niky (once known for its salads and just past the fruttivendelo) with an excellent 2020 Viognier from Dodici at Gavoranno (13%). We were back at base camp by 14.45; amendments arrived, checked, and dispatched by 16.10 (BST)

The weather disappointed many! Coats and jackets were very much in use by the holiday makers as we strolled to the Seminario, then past the bars on the busy top road to the Piazza 24 Maggio, past the museo and the Augustinian cloisters, and La Fenice, the former hotel, now apartments. We made our way through the back streets and to the far side of the cathedral, gradually losing height and recalling former days of Calice di Stelle (glasses under the stars – a wine festival) until we reached the bookshop, where we lurked for 15 minutes. The main square was – of course – closed off by 20.00 for tonight’s Opera.

Supper was booked from 20.30 at La Tana dei Brilli whose owner once again greeted us warmly. She had no up to date information on Francesca, Stefano and Luna, other than that Massa Vecchia is sold, and they had moved, which as we already knew had happened in 2019. Pernice and Galletto (partridge and young chicken) for the main course, served at outside as rain threatened and the wind chilled. In fact the Opera Rigoletto (we ducked this one) went ahead undisturbed, if chilly. We drank a precious 2009 bottle from Massa Vecchia on our return home as a valedictory toast. This photo completes the record!

Saturday 5 August

A late start – the night before had begun badly with more electrical puzzles – flashes from a shorting bulb – even when switched off) and David had slept fitfully. We ate breakfast in the company of musicians and yappy dogs – all of us chased indoors by the weather: dull, windy with brief light showers. The trip by bus to Follonica was postponed until Sunday when there is a totally free day and an improved forecast.

Tracking down buses and even bus stops is proving very difficult now the old order has changed and newer companies provide the service but no clear timetables, even on their website. At noon we walked into Massa in search of the mysterious bus stop on the via F. Corridoni first taking advice and directions at the Info point now at the entrance of the Archeological Museum.

But first we paid our respects to San Cerbone, bishop of Populonia from 570 – 573 CE in the Cathedral. (See slideshow above) It is graced by the thirteenth century font (1267) in which San Bernardino was baptised on 8 September 1380; a sixteenth century oil painting with a very scary cat; a majestic almost translucent cathedra decorated curiously by miniature scenes of rural life; (look carefully on the second pic of this to see David gimbling); San Cerbone’s beautiful tomb carved in the eleventh century, which still stands behind the High Altar, bearing images of the stories associated with him:eg the speaking geese; a Maestà by Duccio, painted in 1316. A full view of the interior precedes the tartaruge – (tortoises) who still patiently support the altar.

We ate pinse (a Roman rival to pizza) and salad in the newish Bike Shed, just below the steep steps of the West end, which opened in 2021 and offers a much more contemporary style of hospitality than any other establishment in MM. We got as far as the renovated Fontana with its fertility graphics as the rain began, and waited there for 15 minutes watching the heavy downpour before hunting down the mystery bus stop, just by the exit of the mining museum. Back to the hotel for a rest and a read as the sun struggled to shine.

Tonight we eat at La Tronca, and then tackle The Barber of Seville. It was a dry evening mercifully, as we ate in the alley now put to good use to increase covers. In fact we had seen and heard some of the rehearsal during the afternoon, and particularly enjoyed the woman conductor’s contribution who also provided keyboard support during the performance itself. The audience was diverse – though the dog looked slightly less engaged than the community police…

Sunday 6 August

Our last full day in Italy was partly spent in Follonica, using the rather limited Sunday bus service which did at least give us time for lunch and a stroll. But first David opted for an early morning walk and experienced an empty, very quiet Massa as he enjoyed an early coffee as the Loggia cafe (in the early days the home of the most efficient wifi in Massa) had opened on the dot of seven o’clock.

The sun had returned with a vengeance, and the bus route to Follonica was bordered by fields green from the recent torrential rain, and some parched from the blistering heat of three weeks ago. The short-stemmed sunflowers flourished in vast fields alongside the road.

Follonica is a lively if ordinary seaside town, looking prosperous and busy on a hot sunny day. We arrived at the station stop, and walked straight down to the seafront which was already teeming. The Italian tradition of private beach stands dominates, where one pays for a fixed posto and enjoys the close company of friends and family beneath large umbrellas basking on the provided loungers. On the other hand there are several areas of ‘free’ beach, where the orderliness gives way to greater spontaneity. Lunch in the Palazzo Tre Palme was twenty metres from the beach – delightful setting and a wonderful bottle of Ferrari to accompany delicious food.

The bus home was on time, if departing from a strange stop beyond the via Roma, and we travelled back to Massa for a swim in the hotel pool before a final meal in Il Vecchio Forno at the bottom of town.

Monday 7 August

We took a taxi to Follonica to pick up a comfortable Inter-City train running ten minutes late, heading for Turin but dropping us off at Pisa where the shuttle train rapidly conveyed us to the airport. It is August and the little airport was heaving with family tourists filling every space. We took the precaution of eating a traditional italian meal before attempting security which was slow and muddled. The flight was more or less on time and we were lucky to retrieve our luggage at Gatwick very quickly, and make the connection at Clapham with ten minutes to spare. Home by 20.45 !

I started – and finished – Salley Vickers’ Dancing Backwards in the course of the day. I’m not entirely sure how David passed the time now the book has ‘fledged’ – probably reviewing the gimbled videos to begin the next stage : the promotional push!