Tuscany - 'Monti di Chianti'

We are on our way to Italy! We follow the highway through Swiss, a beautiful route with high snowy mountains reflected in large smooth lakes. On our left fast cars pass, obviously much less troubled by the steep slopes than we. Our Opel Kadet barely succeeds in carrying our caravan all the way up and the temperature indication meter hovers alarmingly close to the red area.

This holiday is a relaxed trip, especially when compared to our journeys to far away countries: Kenya & Tanzania, India & Nepal and Mexico & Guatemala (sorry, only in Dutch). Traveling with a caravan makes life very easy, never worry about a place to sleep and always something warm to eat and cold to drink (even our own special Belgium beer!). For every day sight-seeing or traveling we keep one day very quiet, relaxing on our luxurious chairs in the shade, reading and doing nothing. The Italian cities we visit are without exception very beautiful and interesting, but also very crowded and hot. It is the middle of August and all Italians are on holiday - a lot of them seem to think this the perfect opportunity for a visit to one of their famous cities, never mind the heat and the crowd. Our Lonely Planet - a new edition of Italy is just published - advises May or September for a visit to Italy.

Tuscany is our first stop. Just south of Florence we leave the highway and head for the 'Monti DI Chianti'. Small winding roads lead deeper and deeper into the hills. I'm driving and already know by heart the way to a camping in the middle of the woods far away from civilization. Jac, who knows from years of experience that I always kind of gravitate to the smaller - and in his experience for a caravan totally unsuitable - roads, looks desperately for signboards towards this nice camping not to far from the highway which is indicated on our map. Our map is not very recent and when a whole lake appears on the wrong side of the road Jac gives up. The Monti DI Chianti are a tourist location, every town has small boarding places and hotels but strangely there is no camping indicated at all. After half an hour we see the first signboard to a camping. Be warned: in Italy this doesn't necessarily mean that you are anywhere close to this camping. We follow the signs, which seem to share my preference for small unsuitable roads. We climb higher and higher up the mountain in the middle of woods. Now and then we see a glimpse of sloping valleys and small towns sitting on the top of a flat hill. We follow the same small curving road up hill for at least ten miles - hoping we don't meet any camper, bus or truck traveling the opposite way - until we arrive at the promised camping. And indeed, how coincidental, this is exactly the camping I had in mind...

Camping 'Piano Orlando' has a beautiful location high in the hills surrounded by woods. Lots of space left for new visitors luckily and even a big swimming pool! Now the only thing left to do is check in and settle our caravan. The checking in takes a little bit longer then expected - when we arrive a white paper on the closed door of the reception announces that the manager will be back soon, but the Italian 'soon' proves to be a little different than the English 'soon'. When at last the woman returns, an Italian family which just arrived signs in first and has to be escorted to their bungalow, on account of their invalid mother or something like that. The woman is in no hurry and tells the new family about her opera ambitions, naming every opera and operetta she knows and commenting on it. Interesting and nice to improve my not very fluent Italian. At last we manage to check in and find a very nice place for our caravan, opposite the bar and next to the pool. It takes us another hour to get our caravan to this nice place, the road was very steep and slippery, the Opel not strong enough. We need about half of the male population of the camping to get it in place, everybody pushing, gesturing and shouting.

At last we take a delicious cold swim. Afterwards we walk around the camping. Close by we find a nature park, complete with pools and ducks, big cages with parrots and signs to the deer and wild boars, which are nowhere to be seen. We seem to be on the highest point of the Monti di Chianti and have a perfect view over the woods and a below the woods grounds with grapes and olives. Enormous farms - some resemble estates - look out over their own extensive vineyard. The closest by village is Radda in Chianti, a sweet village with an old church and at least twenty different shops all selling there own local Chianti. The camping is strategical placed in between Siena and Florence. At the entrance of the camping a sign is placed, showing the way to Siena and Florence (Firenze). For Florence you can choose between left and right (which would be the same without sign), all roads leading to Florence I suppose!

This park is a nice place for a picnic. During the day lots of Italians visit the park to enjoy the relative cool under the trees high up the mountain. Big families settle on large wooden banks and spend the whole day eating, drinking and talking. On our camping things are no different: babies, children, young men and women, the grandmother, everybody joins in. Heated discussions are being fed by lots of Chianti, brought in big plastic five liter packs. Early in the morning I meet the old women in the toilet block, one of them walking very slowly, shuffling forwards, her bend back making it almost impossible for her to look where she is going. I've no idea how she manages to go to the toilets - which have no cover seats and then to wash up and do her hair and make up her face - in Italy every woman pays a lot of attention to her looks, being over 70 does not seem to change this. Beautiful young girls spend at least an hour applying makeup and making intricate plaits in their hair. They are wearing this kind of very short pink skirts and tight fitting T-shirts that look very sexy on them, but totally ridiculous on everybody else. I don't take any trouble at all, just walk around in my bikini with a large T-shirt - gray or black or purple but certainly no pink!

Towards the end of the afternoon we return to our caravan to enjoy a nice cold beer. Wine is very good in Italy and not expensive at all, but beer is expensive and not special at all. As I told before, we are prepared and take our own Belgium Westmalle and Leffe tripel with us - you should try it if you can find it somewhere! Already our fridge is cold enough and we sit in front of the camping enjoying our beer and the beautiful surroundings. Here in the woods it is very quiet. A small Fiat stops in front of our caravan. Three man step out and enter the bar. Some minutes later a very old van stops behind the Fiat. Our view is now totally blocked. A young man in dirty jeans and a ripped black T-shirt starts unloading. All kind of metal constructions appear, followed by some very big speakers. We get some nasty suspicions. I suddenly remember an announcement paper next to the reception which I didn't read because it was all in Italian. I walk towards the reception and read it slowly, suddenly I have no trouble at all understanding the Italian. For tonight a rock concert is planned, in front of our caravan! We escape to a restaurant which we have seen this afternoon in the park, eat diner and stay away as long as possible. But when we walk back to our camping we are greeted by loud waves of music. The full moon hides away behind the dark woods. The road to the camping is full with cars, every space in between the trees is occupied. The terrace in between the bar and our caravan is filled with dancing Italians of all ages. The lead singer must have lost all hope of a singing career long ago, his voice is extremely bad and his looks offer no compensation: a bald head and a big, half naked stomach don't fit the image I have of Italian rock singers - alas! Finally, around one o'clock, the concert stops and we can go to sleep.

Next morning we check the announcement board again to see what lays in stock for us the following nights. We don't have to worry, the whole week is filled with entertainment. Tonight a singer, tomorrow karaoke and the day after an accordion player. Very nice. So this is what happens when you visit Italy in the middle of August!

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