Vaga-Blog - Volume II - Tuscany to Provence (June 9)

HOW MANY TUNNELS DOES IT TAKE TO GET TO FRANCE?

This morning we said goodbye to our guests and headed toward Provence. Steve and Laura took Ed and Denise to the Pisa airport (which is tiny and easy to navigate, FYI) and I dropped Sammy Salami, Xavier and Arlene in Florence. Ken, my new Australian Tom-tom driver, steered me wrong twice on the way there before I decided I was better off with Simon.

The drive was spectacular – Blue Betty and I passed through dozens of beautiful hilltop Italian towns. The drivers are still nuts, but it doesn’t bother me anymore. Let them go 200k/hour, what do I care?

Close to the Italy/France line I pass Genova, which stretches on forever and appears to be the largest cosmopolitan area I’ve seen since I left Chicago. As I pass through, I find myself saying PECORINO! and laughing out loud. Betty misses Sammy already.

I try to count the tunnels I pass through. Some are about 40 feet long; others feel closer to a mile. I am concentrating too hard on navigating the hills to keep an exact count, so I try to estimate every 10 or so. I stop counting at 100. Laura, who was Steve’s passenger and co-pilot, counted all 168 tunnels on the same route.

Nearing my entry into France I gear up for the border inspection. I know it won’t be like getting into America, where you’re strip searched, endlessly questioned and finger printed but I expect some sort of inquisition by the Italian policia. I’m not sure if I was pleased or disappointed when the country line came and went. No sign, no gratzi for spending 200€ on the Italian tollways, no France stamp on my passport – nothing. Just all of a sudden signs were in French and starting giving distances for Monaco, Nice and Cannes. Bienvenue a France, Blue Betty!

Let’s see if the eight years I spent studying French will pay off. Merci, Mademoiselle Sands!

Tunnels passed: 168
Hours I spent traveling from Tuscany to Provence: 6.5
Number of cold beers waiting for me when I arrived at the chateau in Oppede, which I drank before unloading my luggage: 1