A
typical British summer’s day greets us this morning. Cool, overcast and
showery. As much as we enjoy the heat and (up until now) constant sunshine, it
is quite pleasant to be cool for once! This is also good for Onzo as we have
everything crossed that the fan will work on today’s trip, which does involve
some big climbs (according to the map).
Our
stay at Pesce D’oro has been bliss. There is something special about camping so
close to water. Shame about the fishing though. The pressure is ramping up to
catch a fish. Noush is stoking the fire on this and has become increasingly
jugular. Competition is alive and well here. She can sense victory.
We
leave Chiusi and Tuscany, entering Umbria. The sign posting is just tragic
again. Signs appear and then fizzle out. One sign indicated left when in fact
it was straight on. It doesn’t make for straight forward navigation. Still, we
refuse to use a sat nav and so have to refer to three maps: all of which disagree
with one another.
We’ve
hit the ‘Strada di Olive oil’ and once again we are climbing, terraces of olive
groves fall away beneath us and the ascent goes ever on. Onzo has got a massive
zoom on and Jon is practically having to rein him in, zipping up mountains and
round hairpins at warp factor ten and all is good until the last hill before
our destination (and the most savage yet) causes Onzo’s temperature to start to
rise… Will the fan kick in or not? Predictably, it does not. This is not good
news. Jon refuses to accept this however and bails into the next layby, has
stern words with Onzo and then proceeds to sit there, in the layby, with the
accelerator flat to the floor. It’s looking like its fan on or blow up the van
and be done with it. Onzo seems to understand this and within moments the fan
springs to life. Van success!! We reward him by going back down the hill (we
forgot to get petrol) and making him climb all the way back up it again. Bless
Onzo.
After a quick pit stop for some beer, some wi-fi and
some formula 1 action we head on towards Lago di Balsena. We are after some
more lakeside R&R, peaceful fishing and sunshine before we mount our
assault southwards. The weather is still rubbish but the views are spectacular
nonetheless: Orvieto hanging in the sky and silhouetted magnificently against
the moody sky and then the descent to the lake punctuated with old classic cars
for some reason. The town looks charming and raggedy as we approach and the
lake, which is nestled in the old crater of a volcano, looks ace. Time to find
somewhere to park up and get stuck in. As ever in Italy, finding the camping
car Aire thingy proves tricky. The sign
post points down a narrow lane, trees overhanging with deep ditches either side
waiting to claim a victim. It turns out (surprise non?) the sign is wrong and
in fact the campsite is in the opposite direction. We need to meet the people
who are responsible for sign posting in Italy. I can only think it is a job
given to habitual stoners and drunkards. (hmm, where’s that job application
form gone?)
Eventually we find the place and site owner type
relieves of us €15 euros. Still, it’s got showers (no loos though, weird non?),
it’s bang next to the lake shore, five minutes from town, quiet and secure and
we’ve got it for 24 hours. Is not so bad. Our quiet fishing paradise is
secured.
We decide to take a wander into town and much to our
surprise it’s really busy. Isn’t this supposed to be off season now? There are
even film crews teeming round the town square, what is going on? All is quickly
revealed…our quiet fishing paradise is the chosen location for the World Carp
Fishing Championships and today is their opening inaugural ceremony thingy. There
are teams from everywhere (as “World” would suggest), we catch South African
accents, USA, Sweden and the dulcet tones of some Brits from Romford. When we
first saw the Team Romania chaps wandering around in their team kit the thought
crossed our minds they might be escapees from the Olympics. But nope, this is
the real deal.
Having a natural talent for fishing this is right up
my street, so I took to the stage to collect my prize for piscatorial genius
and services to Fishing. (please refer to picture insert!)
After the heady heights of the stage and nearly being
trampled by horses from the parade by a bloke called Ardi in the back of a
chariot (yes really), we decide to treat ourselves to a Pizza. (Sorry romantic
dinner for 2). The pizzas were the size of lorry tyres.
This together with wine
set us back €17 – awesome food. Two ice creams on the Ponte Vecchia in Florence
were €15 – puts it into perspective!!