Doing the tunnels is the only option.
There is no escape if you are driving from southeast France to Tuscany.
The tunnels thread through the Ligurian hillsides that slope down to the Mediterranean water’s edge. Some are just a few hundred feet long, others a mile or more. We count them for fun and tally 136!
It’s the slow lane for us on the last leg of our annual journey to Tuscany and the olive harvest.
There are some great sea views, if you’re not driving. It can feel a little ‘hairy’ at times, as a big black beetle-like vehicle–you wouldn’t call it a car–hurtles past, followed closely by a purring, predatory Porsche.
Sunday morning and we’re making for a little bar/ristorante in Marina di Carrara called Ciccio. We found it by chance years ago–as sometimes happens with the favourite places.
The restaurant looks onto the port from where the historic Carrara marble–still being cut out of the hillside–is shipped.
The cranes and modern lifting machinery make us wonder–in both senses–how Michelangelo transported the huge marble block back to Florence and the workshop where he fashioned the David.
Meredith has the seasonal ‘special’ in mind–freshly made spaghetti in a cream sauce with black truffles. She had it once years ago and has never forgotten it.
Today the truffle is the rare white variety (though perversely a browny pink in colour).
Then it’s ordered–for both of us. (I decide to live dangerously and indulge!)
Meredith is delighted, though she says when we’re back in the car ‘On the whole I think I prefer the black truffle best…’ Well…!
We head off back to the autostrada, truffled out but happy the tunnels are behind us.
Marble mountain
Robin Ellis 