A flat tyre

We left the little campsite in Italy with a view to travelling to Florence,  somewhere I have always wanted to go.  After about 10 minutes of travelling the tyre was losing pressure again, (the actual car tells us that!) we were in the middle of nowhere, off the beaten track and nether of us can speak Italian (my assumption that I can just put an a on the end of French has proved erroneous).  We passed a car mechanic shop and with the help of translate on our phones we were able to explain what we needed.  They sent us to Quick Fit where another handsome man explained that he had not got a replacement tyre and that it could take a few days to get one.   He then offered to do a proper repair but that it wouldn’t be ready until 4pm, this at 9.45am.

We couldn’t go anywhere and it was getting hotter and hotter, Sunny wouldn’t be able to walk on the pavements which meant we spent the entire day in a car park.  R took the opportunity to spend the whole time sunbathing while Sunny and I hid in the shade.  Luckily we had already bought water and a picnic for lunch so we had sustenance and I read my book.

At 4pm the tyre was ready, it was refitted to the van and we left heading for Florence, a little bit nervous that the tyre would blow.  The trip was four hours on the map but we forgot that there had been a bridge collapse in Genoa so it too six hours instead.  I moaned all the way because I needed a wee and I thought we should just stop for the night in a rest stop.  R didn’t murder me and we arrived in Florence at 10pm, a little fractious and very tired but the view from the campsite was amazing and you could hear the bells from the cathedral.