‘No chance. I’m never home! I’d end up needing a second dog to keep the first one company.’
‘Well, you know what they say,’ Holly said, with a knowing look. ‘Two dogs are better than one and one is better than none.’
I laughed. ‘No one has ever said that, and you know it.’ Nero’s eyes flickered open as I gave him back to Mia, then he yawned and settled back down. I missed his little body as soon as I’d handed him over, but there was no time for that, I had to get on.
‘I’ll probably need an early night after all this,’ I said, pointing at my iPad. ‘So shall I see you tomorrow for dinner?’
‘Yes, come over to the restaurant. I want to give you the full tour, and Xavier is desperate to impress you with his dishes.’
‘Can’t wait. I’m impressed already and he hasn’t done anything yet!’
‘Have fun in San Gimignano and call me if you get lost or need anything.’
Holly gave me a hug and I left her to finish her juice. The bus stop was directly opposite the vineyard entrance, but it took a good ten minutes to walk down to the road. I’d have to borrow one of the bikes Mia mentioned next time. That might be a good way to get my exercise in; I didn’t fancy running in thirty-five-degree heat each morning. The road was empty as I arrived at the bus stop and sat on an old wooden bench. It was 10.42 a.m. so the bus would be along in three minutes. I opened Tinder to amuse myself while I waited and the Italian selection was pretty impressive. Franco 34, Teacher; Sebastiano 32, Curator; Matteo 31, Chef. There was definitely a local look – dark hair, brown eyes and designer stubble. I sent out a fewCiaosfor fun and updated my profile to say I was in Tuscany for the foreseeable. A couple of dates with Italian stallions wouldn’t go amiss. Holly wouldn’t be around to entertain me every night.
Three minutes turned into twenty and I was still sat in the sunshine waiting for the bus. There wasn’t any shade, and I was getting hot and sweaty. It was 11.07 a.m. when Holly chugged down the driveway on her Vespa, and I shuddered as she pulled up alongside me and lifted her visor.
‘The buses aren’t very reliable around here, Abs,’ she called. ‘It’ll only take me ten minutes to drop you into town.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m fine waiting. The bus is bound to turn up any second.’
‘Honestly, these Vespas are like bikes with batteries. It’s not like being on a proper motorbike.’
‘No thanks, I’ll wait. It won’t be long,’ I said, optimistically. I put my hands on her helmet and waggled it about, checking it was nice and secure.
‘OK then. See you tomorrow!’ she said, bibbing her horn and flying off down the road.
‘Be careful!’ I shouted after her. She put one hand up to wave, and my heart flipped. You’d never catch me on one of those things. I liked the bus. Nice and safe. I waited another half an hour,Ciao-ingaway my time on Tinder, having the same chat with three different Italians, and eventually the bus came chuffing along. Smoky and knackered as it groaned to a stop, and the doors sighed open.
‘One for San Gimignano, please,’ I said, climbing up the steps. The driver looked at me blankly. ‘Er…una biglietto?’ I held out my phone to tap. The driver pressed a button and pointed to the screen, which said2,50 Euros. I waved my phone at him and immediately realised I needed cash. Bollocks.
‘Can I pay with a card?’ I asked, knowing full well now that I couldn’t. He shook his head and closed the doors, waving me onto the bus, as he drove on. I took that to mean I could get on for free. I was not off to a good start. We zoomed up the hill towards the town and the bus lurched to a stop twelve minutes later. If I’d known it was going to be so late, I’d have walked.
Anyway. I’d made it into the historic centre of San Gimignano. Tick. Next up, the Bell Tower. I walked through the streets as the sun reached its highest point. The clock clanged twelve times in a row, and people wandered past on all sides, chatting, laughing, and taking photos. The cobbled pavements were shiny with the heat and I jumped from shadow to shadow to try and stay cool, arriving at the Bell Tower just as the door was being locked.
‘Chiusa,’ the old man said, then pretended to eat his hand. ‘Pranzo.’ Closed for lunch. He held two fingers up – in the polite way – which I assumed meant it would reopen at 2 p.m.
‘Grazie.’ I smiled and nodded. Then moved on to number 3 on my list. I probably couldn’t go to mass, but I could pop into a church or two and light a candle. They were never closed. Which wasn’t a bad switch-around in terms of the itinerary anyway – I could have a nice cool-down and some gentle quiet for an hour, and then climb the tower after lunch. I walked across the square to one of the smaller churches, nestled among the buildings, and pushed the door open. A nun came rushing over and pointed at my shoulders.
‘No, no, no,’ she said, taking her shawl off and waving it at me.
Got it. I’d have to buy a sarong from somewhere and wrap myself up, my puffed sleeves would keep slinking off if I tried to force them onto my shoulders. I smiled at the nun, left the church, and made my way over to one of the touristy clothes shops, just as the door swung shut and the ‘open /aprire’ sign was flipped to ‘closed /chiusa’. All around me shop doors were slamming. I’d been here nearly half an hour and hadn’t really done anything. The only places still open were the cafés and restaurants. There was nothing else for it, so I took a seat at a shaded table opposite the church and ordered an Aperol Spritz and a lasagne. I’d have some lunch and wait until everything was open again. I snapped a couple of photos and put them on Instagram, then pinged out a few messages to my theatre contacts to let them know where I was and what I was doing – it wouldn’t hurt to put the feelers out.
Me:Hi Phoebs, I’m in Tuscany for a couple of weeks, but keep me updated on any job ops. A month will fly by, and I’d feel better knowing I had a gig lined up.
Me:Hi Jackie, how are things? Bit of a mix-up on myMoonmenbooking, so I’m available for work from 1st Sept if you hear of anything?
Me:Hi Stella, how are things? Bit of a mix-up on myMoonmenbooking, so I’m available for work from 1st Sept if you hear of anything?
I sent the same message to three more contacts and left it at that. Firing my arrows out into the world. Between Phoebe and the theatre girls, something would come up, but being ‘between jobs’ was a new experience entirely for me and it felt very uncomfortable. I’d never left a job without something else to go to before, and I’d been working since I was fifteen. The sun was smiling down on the town, a reminder that it was the hottest part of the day, as the waiter returned with my drink.
‘Grazie mille,’ I said, as he placed an enormous glass of Aperol Spritz down in front of me.
‘Prego.’ He nodded, with clipped efficiency, clearing the empty glasses on the next table and spinning back off inside.
I took a long slurp and closed my eyes to savour the taste. Ice cold and refreshing, it was so much more orangey and alcoholic than in London. Delicious. It had been quite the day already and I’d achieved absolutely nothing. Ihadto crack on. I looked up the walking tour of the towers to make myself feel better. If I could at least do that, then the day wouldn’t be completely wasted. I checked three different websites, but all the slots were filled until Thursday. Gah! What was I supposed to do with myself? Eating and drinking were the only options available. The waiter popped my lasagne in front of me, the simplest of dishes, but it was a meaty, cheesy, tomatoey delight. Each mouthful tasted better than the last. Maybe I could make this for my nextCome Dine with Meextravaganza – it was so moreish. I sat quietly and ate, looking around the square. San Gimignano was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. It was like stepping back in time. A piece of medieval history hidden away in the Tuscan hills. Tall, sandy buildings, with church windows and turrets, tiny shops built into the ancient walls, a town full of castle-like grandeur. I could see why Holly and Xavier loved it so much.
It got to 1.30 p.m., and I decided to do my own walking tour with good old Google Maps. I couldn’t just sit around all day, waiting for Italy to open. I paid my bill and walked through the town to the first tower, holding my phone out, like a single dousing rod, to show me the way. A quick photo and then on to the next one, snapping my way through a tower treasure hunt of the town. By the time I’d finished, the shops were back open, so I bought an ‘I heart Tuscany’ T-shirt to cover up my shoulders and made my way back to the church.
