Italy, Post No. 2

Better late than never … now, where were we?

Driving, sadly, from Camogli to Asti. As I may have mentioned, we had such a good time in Camogli, and thought it was such a perfect vacation spot, that we were very depressed to have to leave. It didn’t help that it rained heavily during part of our trip, or that we had difficulty finding our hotel, or that we couldn’t check in when we arrived, or that when we went into the city of Asti to kill some time (our hotel was in the country, some 6 miles away), we were not very impressed; while old, the city did not looked run down and slightly seedy, at least the part we were in, although we did manage to luck into finding a restaurant that provided us with an outstanding, cheap meal, including the best pizza I have had on the whole trip (cooked in a woodburning oven that looked to be several times older than me(, and also the best gnocchi with pesto that I have ever tasted (obviously the pasta was homemade, it seemed both light and substantial at the same time). Later that afternoon it started to rain, and after we checked in we drove to a small market nearby and bought bread, cheese, yogurt, and fruit to have for dinner in our room.

Our hotel in Camogli had been among the best we’d ever stayed in. We were on the top floor of an old, old building, and our room had high arched ceilings, beautiful hardwood floors, and large windows overlooking the sea. In contrast, our hotel in Asti was in a modern building decorated with modern furnishings. We were in a large room that was really a small suite, since the boys had a separate sleeping area, and Suzie and I had a separate bedroom, which was nice. Off the boys’ room there was a small patio, which overlooked a corn field, which of course the Iowa boy loved. We ate dinner on the patio and watched a storm pass, lightning and thunder close but not too threatening. We were all feeling let down, and it didn’t help that (1) the main guy who ran the place was completely unfriendly (he seemed to be this way to everyone, not just us) and (2) we seemed to be the only people staying in the place, which was eerie and, when combined with our complete lack of Italian, made us feel very conspicuous.

Nevertheless, we had a good nights sleep and decided the next day to visit some old castles or towers in some of the nearby towns. From our experience in Asti, we were afraid that these towns would be old but also somewhat decrepit.

It was an unbelievably beautiful day. The storm of the previous night had passed through, leaving the air cool and crystal clear. We headed to our first small town, which was off of the main road up on a high ridge (as, not surprisingly, were all the towns with large old castles, this being apparently an early example of the scourge of the large ridgetop home). We didn’t know what to expect … and were completely blown away. The town was very, very small, with narrow, narrow streets and old, old houses and buildings. But it was completely clean, and seemed very vibrant, with small shops and restaurants and people walking the streets. Unfortunately the castle (actually, something more akin to a chateau, an enormous chateau given the size of the rest of the town) was closed, but we had fun walking around the town, met a very friendly lady with two small children who gave us advice for where to have lunch, and partook of the incredible views. A view of the town (Gavone) follows:



If you can imagine a somewhat hillier, lusher, greener Sonoma County, with fields of corn next to vineyards, that is what the Piedmont region is like. See for yourself here (three views taken from three different little towns):







We had lunch in a city called Alba, a lovely older town, also very clean and vibrant. We had an excellent lunch in a restaurant/jazz club, then spent an hour or so walking around the city. This picture gives a good flavor of the town:



We quite by accident saved the best for last. After Alba, we went off in search of our final castle, and went to a small nearby town called Neive. This was a charming place, slightly bigger than the other two towns we had visited, and with an obviously thriving population.


There were also two beautiful older churches in the town, very different, one older and more simple, the other seemingly newer and very ornate inside.





And now, some pictures posted at the request of Will and Andrew. As I mentioned, the hotel we were staying in had a very nice, large pool with a diving board. So after our castle-hunting excursions, we put on our swimsuits and headed to the pool. The boys dived and flipped,





The boys tried to teach (re-teach, actually) their dad to dive, which he did, but for some reason he could not get his brain to keep his legs straight, in spite of his kids’ repeated encouragement to do so. The ugly result:



After their swim, the boys found an Italian boy about their age to play soccer with. So, from a bad start, we ended up loving Piedmont, vowing to come back someday without the kids. It was nice to see a part of Italy that was not a tourist spot.

The next day we awoke and drove back to France. I’ll end this post with a picture taken in the Italian Alps, just shy of the Frejus tunnel.



Now I’m only a day behind, whoo-eeee, and we didn’t do a whole lot today. Our days in France are coming to an end and we don’t want them to. We’ve become more and more attached to Grenoble the more time we’ve spent in it. More on that tomorrow.