We leave mother’s after spending an
inordinate of time packing up the van, where does all the stuff come from? We
are supposed to be travelling light! Sad farewells are said, Mum and Moo left
forlorn, for which I feel a bit guilty. But then our travels begin again and we
head south for the coast. Some rather awesome driving from Jon sees Onzo
navigating mountains and hairpins with relative ease and then we hit the
coastal road and the Med lies before us in all its blue serenity. Or not. Never
in the history of the world have there ever been so many people, scooters, cars
and Italians all in the same place.
If we thought Annecy was busy, this takes the
word to a whole new level. What is astonishing is that people are happy to sit
that close to each other on the beach in what amounts to one of the (reputedly)
swankiest reports on Italy. Frankly it resembles a refugee camp. All these poor
people, I wonder where the red cross are? – Does the level of the Med drop when everyone
gets out?
We follow the coast road (undeniably
beautiful) for approximately 25 kms and there isn’t one car parking space that
hasn’t been taken. Laybys, pavements, garage forecourts (I jest not), and those
that have just abandoned their vehicles on the side of the road. We are left
with no options, we have to carry on, there is literally nowhere to stop! We
had aimed to stop in Savona, but ended up going all the way to Santa
Margherita, where we found the last remaining parking space in northern Italy
and went for a wander. Beautiful place, but claustrophobically full. Would love
to come back off season, long weekend perhaps and not in Onzo, it’s just not
geared up for camper vans. So anyway, we decide to risk the hill in the heat of
the day, and we bail. Again. We carry on, we find a campsite, it’s full. We
carry on further, still no parking, but lots of signs for campsites. Hopes are
raised only to be very firmly and spectacularly dashed in the form of the most
impossibly located poor excuse for a campsite in the world. Ever. After navigating a single track, broken and
rutted road we arrive in a mini shanty town of a campsite, populated by a
slightly crazy old man and about fifty cats. You kind of expected the guy to
have a slow Texan drawl and to grin at you whilst starting his chainsaw. Time
to leave and quickly. Onzo can neither go forwards, nor back. We are on an inhospitable
incline. There is no space. The trees are low and attacking the roof and the
cats are closing in. We are in some trouble here. Tempers are fraying and
troubled glances are exchanged, we’ve just got to get out, it’s as simple as
that. Crazy old man lets us reverse Onzo pretty much on top of a tent in order
to extricate ourselves and we get ourselves out of there as quickly as possible
(at about 0.1km/h). Back into town and we find a weird gypsy car park type
thing, Onzo the newest van there by about a hundred years. It’ll have to do,
the sun is setting and we’re done in. BBQ is lit, BBQ dies. Resort to a quick
beer, bed by 9.30. Day one touring in Italy, a sharp learning curve indeed. But
still happy campers, as long as no one nicks Onzo’s wheels in the night…