Communists in Perugia

I am not sure what it was that made me go on deck, perhaps the light coming around the corners of the cabin curtain. But I am glad I did. It was already warm, although the deck was wet from either spray or rain. I looked to the east to see the grey outline of a passing freighter but on the horizon was an orange sliver. I had arrived on deck just in time to see a full sunrise and there was barely any cloud in the sky.

The sunrise that greeted me - somewhere in the Adriatic

There is something fascinating about sunrises, so I stood and watched, as the ferry crossed a pancake sea, and I saw the whole thing, from the very early sliver to the full sun that was much too bright to view. Sunrise was followed by breakfast, at least takeaway coffee, and croissants from the on-board café. The chap behind the counter looked offended when I asked him if his croissants had come from Bari or Patras. He shook his head in near disgust.

“Neither,” he said. “I made them.” He thumbed his chest as he spoke. His on-board croissants were good, not brilliant, but certainly filled a gap.

To enter Bari harbour a pilot vessel joined us. At one point it even gave the vessel a nudge with its fendered bow, to be sure the ferry was on track. Once the vessel berthed, we headed for the car and positioned ourselves for a rapid exit. We then waited, waited, and waited. Unloading appeared to take forever, as the ferry used the same way on as off. Some of the massive, articulated lorries even had to reverse onto the jetty, their alarms bleeping. It was a clear case of first-on last-off, and last-on first-off. I might have been successful at ensuring we had been almost first on the ferry, but I was an utter failure at getting us off. Unloading took more than an hour.

We met a charming couple from Ely as we waited to offload. They had owned a holiday home in the Southern Peloponnese for nearly 30 years. They knew Cambridge well and were headed back to England, expecting to be there in four days. He had broken his pelvis when in Greece and was hobbling on a crutch. She proudly showed the scar of her wrist surgery at Addenbrooke’s Hospital in Cambridge when some time earlier she had broken her wrist. The pair left us tasty home-grown apricots, which we gobbled within moments. Soon, we were both in our cars, waiting for the lengthy offloading, before heading north through Italy.

Our endpoint was Perugia, more than 500 kilometres from Bari, but a route that passed up the east coast of Italy, and then crossed the Appennine Mountains to reach Perugia. From the map the route would be boring, but the reality was different. The east coast of Italy may not be famous for its romantic towns and cities, but it does have plenty of beautiful beaches. Long expanses of sand and a patterned blue sea beyond, with clear and silent water. Near Pescara, we headed west. The sea slowly disappeared behind us, while ahead loomed the towering Appennine Mountains.

The Appennines form a 1200-kilometre chain through the centre of peninsular Italy, and we were driving across them. There were frequent signs for bears, as so many are killed each year by careless drivers. I am not surprised, as we have had plenty of near misses on this drive so far. In Italy especially, fellow drivers seem happiest sat on my rear bumper and give no leeway for error at all. If you decide to obey the speed limit, you can be assured a car will come up behind and start hooting. They are frustrated because you are obeying the speed limit while they wish to speed and dash past.

The Appennines were green, tall, lush, with red-roofed hillside villages and occasional monasteries perched on crags. This was lesser-known Italy, and we were driving through it. I kept focus by downing large volumes of coffee and especially frozen caffeine, in the form of a slushy ice cream that calls itself Café Zero. It was a better experience to slurp that in the driving seat, than to join a long line of Italians in a service station, waiting to order a microscopic espresso. Café Zero and Red Bull have so far been all I have needed to keep myself awake.

Perugia was tremendously scenic, as we climbed steadily up mountain roads to reach it. It is a university town that was founded in 1308 and hosts plenty of festivals. There is a jazz festival, journalism festival, and the festival I will one day attend, Eurochocolate. I have never attended a chocolate festival but am looking forward to the occasion.

To greet our arrival at the Sina Brufani Hotel, which has been in central Perugia for many years - it has even had the Queen Mother as a guest - there was a political rally. It was the Communist party, red flags carrying the hammer and sickle, while they blared out political slogans through speakers in a city square, the Piazza Italia. At the hotel, I once again asked if I might charge the car. The staff pointed at a single charging point on the pavement outside the hotel.

“You will need an app downloaded to use it,” they instructed. “And then you also have to pay.”

There were only two charging points, publicly owned. The hotel may have had its own underground garage, but there was nowhere to charge a car.

***

Stayed at:

Sina Brufani Hotel

Piazza Italia 12

06121 Perugia PG

Tel: +39(0)755732541

Web: https://www.sinahotels.com/en/h/sina-brufani-perugia/

Email: sinabrufani@sinahotels.com

Ate at:

Ristorante Ferrari Perugia, Via Scura 1, 06123 Perugia PG