day 3: gasolio goes nowhere

Day 3 started as the most teriffic day yet. But perhaps after you're done reading, you'll understand why I've put off posting for so long...

We road the funicolare to the top of the mountain. Amazingly, this cable-car like device has been in operation for over 100 years. A short walk at the top provides an unrivalled vantage point of several twists of the lake.
It is extremely peaceful and a hike would be highly recommended, but we hadn’t worn the proper footwear. So we returned to the bottom and hopped into a paddleboat, vivaciously going as far out as we dared. The tour boats only gave us mild scares that we would be tipped over.

Then it was time to head toward destination number two and major lesson number one. Suggestion: use full service the first time you fill up the vehicle in Italy. Gasolio, contrary to the way it sounds, is not gasoline but diesel.

The resulting undesired pit stop occurred after a pleasant lunch in Parma,where I sampled the risotto, a favoured dish in the region, but I found myself jealous of Bree's tagliatelli – both were liberally sprinkled with PARMAgiana cheese. We started with the signature PARMA ham and melon.

But back to us being stuck in the middle of a roundabout with a car that sputtered slowly to death. Hertz SOS Italy isn't what you'd want to be using in a life-threatening crisis. In fact, you can only dial the number from a land-line, which we of course did not have.

The policeman didn't interrupt our peaceful sitting on the 110 degree sidewalk taking turns in the sliver of shade until Bree had gone to retrieve some drinks.
I thought I was going to get arrested.
"Move the car," he said. "You've been here 45 minutes."
I showed him the Hertz brochure. He scoffed and walked off.

Bree was highly patient. Very patient.

And we still made it to Castiglion Fiorentino before midnight.