After stopping at the farm shop to purchase two kilo sized wedges of parmesan and a jar of mostarda, Bill and I were on our way from Parma to Florence, where we were to meet the first half of the family at the airport in Florence. It was a pleasant ride even on the autostrada, and we arrived half an hour before their flight was due to arrive. Bonus – when we got parked and into the arrivals area we found their flight had already landed, so we had very little time to wait before they came through the door from customs.
The master plan – another one of those Judy decisions that wasn’t nearly as brilliant as it seemed in California – was that Grandad would take most of their luggage and the grandsons to Prato, while our daughter and her fiancé joined me on the local bus from the airport to Prato. According to the online Prato bus schedule, the bus from Florence to Prato stopped frequently at the airport. NOT! We asked half a dozen people and they were unanimous in their response – to get the bus to Prato, you need to take the airport bus to Florence to the train station, and catch it there. It was hot, the new travelers were tired, and expedience won out over economy, so we piled into a taxi, and only 33 euros later arrived in Prato, after a delightful conversation with our woman driver.
Why Prato? Good question. It made sense at home – the cost of renting a car away from the airport was noticeably cheaper than renting from the airport, and Prato was the first town in the westerly direction. Makes sense, right? Well – factoring in the taxi fare and the need to kill time until the mid day closure at the car rental location ended at 3 pm, the savings were not worth the aggravation. However, we had a pleasant lunch in Prato, sat in the park for a while, and then daughter and fiancé went off to get their car.
With the help of Harriet the GPS, we easily found our way out of Prato and to Bagni di Lucca – but when it came to finding the B&B where we would be staying, it was another matter. The B&B was on a tiny little side street too narrow to drive down, where the house numbers were apparently assigned based on random number theory, and on first try we could not find the house number at all! I called our landlord in frustration – he apologized and explained the house was tucked in at the end of a tiny walkway, between two houses with street numbers totally out of sequence with that of the B&B.
By the time we schlepped all the luggage down the hill and into the house it was almost 5 pm, and I expected my son and his family to arrive at any moment: they had flown to Pisa from Amsterdam, and were picking up their car there.
The B&B had a lovely garden and a pool, so the boys quickly donned their suits and cooled off, while the rest of us sat under the pergola enjoying the warm afternoon breeze, and chatting with our host when he arrived home around 6 pm. We kept trying to reach our son on his cell phone, but got a repeated message that the number was not active…very frustrating. After they got out of the pool the boys decided to walk down to the center of town to see if by chance figlio and family were wandering around there – but saw no sign of them.
Finally, about 7:30 pm we decided we had to take the new arrivals to dinner, as they were looking decidedly bleary eyed. Just as we arrived at the top of the street where we had parked our cars, a very hot, frustrated and cranky son drove up; his phone was not working (despite the fact that he had sent all the required forms and passport copies to Telestial and had been told the phone HAD been activated), he had not been able to get a GPS when he picked up the car, he got lost driving through Lucca, and had reached the end of his rope, only to be frustrated by not being able to find the B&B. We convinced him he should just park his car and walk with the boys down the quarter mile to the centro to Del Sonno, a simple pizzeria that had been recommended both by our B&B host and by the owners of the Villa we had rented. They happily accommodated our group of nine, and we had a simple supper of food we knew the kids would enjoy.
Finally, our family was together.
