…hopefully that should circumvent any copyright infringements.

They say all roads lead to Rome, but James and Lea worked out that if you do a U-turn, these same roads also lead out of Rome and the one chosen headed to Tuscany!!

After the eagerly anticipated driving in Rome, which more or less resembles a game of chicken (and the free downgrade to an azure green FIAT Panda didn’t really add to our street cred or even help look patriotic to the Azzuris…but still want to get the sticker to say “You are now passing another PANDA!”) we started our Tuscan leg of the trip (which already sounds tastier than the Dalmatian leg) in Siena after stopping off in the impossibly cute towns of Montepulciano, for wine, and Pienza, for cheese.

Our Siena accommodation was another classic honeymoon choice…a convent. How do you solve a problem like James’n’Lea?  It was a purposefully, annoyingly difficult place to get into that had Lea blaspheming, “How….f…very….hard is it to get into a convent?” Although with time we found it easier to get into the…habit (sorry, that’s probably 9 hail Marys…whoever Mary is…is she the one flirting with the old guy with the beard in all the paintings?)  Lea also, while at risk of exposing her shoulders, used her emergency cardigan to smuggle wine through reception and into the dorm, then, perhaps slightly affected by the alcohol or ridiculousness of their accommodation (which did include a beautiful view from the balcony towards the Duomo…originally designed to remind people, He was watching…and has binoculars) challenged her already heavenly challenged husband to start throwing corks into the windows of the building opposite. In fact the drinks were so strong (understandably as if the water turns to wine, then the wine must surely turn to grappa?) that when asked “How many convents have you been in?”, James replied, “None…….”. Completely missing the hilarity of his unintentional joke, but nonetheless trying to claim it was calculated and that the “straight face” was the normal one…not the more often used “ignorant face”.

After a quick, cold shower (complete with soap sachets that can only be opened using your teeth, in a not so subtle effort to wash your mouth out) we hit the road and continued through southern Tuscany.  The spectacular landscape, every mile, corner, direction had us thinking we were experiencing the onset of Stendhal syndrome (or Florence syndrome) well before even reaching Florence itself! If there’s a man affected landscape worth aspiring to everywhere else, then this is it.  Breathtaking.  No amount of hyperbole could say how this place is better than anything else in the entire Universe…ever.

We stopped off in the tiny town of Monteriggioni (so darling with it’s 6 foot walls and nothing inside to protect) and the impressive San Gimignano, which remains an undiscovered gem of the region…except to the 100,000 visitors that descend on the town on a Tuesday afternoon…in September. Worth the wait to get in. We then powered through, occasionally hitting 3rd gear in the Panda, to our eagerly anticipated location (for the honeymoon part of the honeymoon) of San Felice.

Borgo San Felice was our one splurge of the trip, and even if we might have felt out of place, the Panda looked at home amongst the olive trees…despite the Beemers and Audis looking the other way. We went from the previous night sitting on the balcony of a convent, having smuggled in wine, throwing corks at window of building opposite to sitting at the “nice” restaurant for the tasting menu in a shirt that cost almost as much to have pressed as it did to purchase. Dinner was probably lovely, there was some confusion over the matching wines, after, unusually, experiencing some pressure to finish the first up, prosecco, Lea and James assumed this would continue and polished off the second tout de suite (still don’t know any Italian)…Only to have the waiter then berated by the larger, more aggressive waiter for not keeping up with the Stewarts and ordered him to refill the glasses. A trend that continued throughout the night, ensuring maximum value was extracted from the meal, where the food became an accompaniment to the wine. It only ended up being four “matched” wines, but a good dozen glasses full…

The hotel was a converted, small farming village, made into a hotel in the 90s. We were worried about losing the small town feel by staying in such a place, but realised that we got the charm of a small town, locked in time without the throng of tourists. It was such a nice place that even the bidet had it’s own line of “Intimate Cleanser”. So fancy in fact, that the bathroom was in Italian (which was a first…unless it was French, Ooh la la!!….hard to tell when you express temperature in terms of capital letters).  Either way, it did make me wonder that when sitting on the bidet (if that’s what you do with a bidet???) whether it would be more of a surprise to turn on the ‘C’ tap expecting cold and getting caldo or chaud…or vice versa? And if you don’t know un petit peut de francais (or…uno piccolo Italiano???) or speak fancy bathroom speak, what would you think when looking at the ‘F’ tap?

The sunsets over the vines and olives were spectacular, and a brunch of cheese, prosciutto, vino bianco (from San Gimignano) and Chianti Classico on the limestone soil, lying under the Sangiovese vines (to avoid being caught trespassing) were experiences we’ll never forget, and will often try and replicate without success. Apart from the next day when on the way to Florence we stopped in Panzana and tried to replicate the previous day on the side of the road, with some success. Not quite the same, but pretty damn amazing.

Then comes Florence, and what can you say about Florence. Basically a perfect town in harmony with tourists and locals alike in a perfect climate..at least between the 10th and 12th of September.  It was so extravagant that we almost felt compelled to remove our bathroom cupboard and start anew, the bonfire of the vanities…  We can thank the Medicis not just for most of this amazing place, but for allowing us to knock off an allusive ‘U’ from our list with a visit to the Uffizi gallery where we got to see a naked chick on a clam…(not going there) just a day after having seen Mike’s incredible sculpture of his good buddy, Dave. We also got to participate in a favourite European past time of “standing in doorways”…seriously how do these guys not keep killing each other!!…oh wait…that’s right. We saw the impressive three-toned Duomo, visited the Boboli gardens (behind the Pitti palace) which came highly recommended by many, but unfortunately we honestly have to say were a bit of a ……..Pitti (and we promise not just for the pun), sat out on a roof drinking wine and limoncello, realising it’s a while since we’ve had a good old fashioned roofie…(the limoncello part was repeated the following night where we downed a 500ml or 50dl bottle…between “us”…before climbing the Duomo only a few hours later, thanks to Lea’s Machiavellian travel schedule clashing with James’ Galilean thirst for knowledge…oh and limoncello), we really felt Dante’s portrait staring up at us with a smirk as we circled the dome nine times to reach the top.

No visit to Florence is complete without a Fiorentine alla Fiorentine…unless of course you visit, don’t have one and then leave…which is probably a good choice. Of course if you do decide to have the minimum 1kg cut(s) of steak, make sure that you’re happy with medium rare, cos if you’re not then you’ll really struggle with hearing the moo’s of the almost breathing meat while you eat. Totally worth it though!! Only leaves you wondering who made the poorer choice…the people that designed your airbnb place with a glass floor on the second level or yourself for choosing it knowing you’re four weeks in to a holiday and having just eaten a kilo of cow.

Then after a stop in Lucca (for a picnic on the walls) and in Pisa (for a quick look at some tower, which seemed fine from where we were) our time in this majestic part of the world came to an end.