Beating them at their own game

Photo: Severely perished Speedo's caused by old age and overuse on the flumes.





Photo: Another source of entertainment was watching the aqua workout with Marco & the Germans.

The pool is the centre piece to the camp site and therefore somewhere everybody want to go to it and soak up the rays and bask in the sun. To do that you need a sunlounger, but there's simply not enough of them to go around. Even more desirable is a pool side parasol so that you can take shelter from the burning sun. To get either of these things requires some careful planning. I was amused to discover that the stereotype of Germans putting towels on the deck chairs in the morning is actually a well founded one. I hadn't realised it applied to the Dutch (although some would argue they are all Germans too) so on our first couple of days by the pool we were left having to fight for any spare ones that came up. Like a vulture waiting for the pickings we watched for the signs of people packing away their bas so we could move in quickly. This was no way to enjoy a holiday so drastic action was required. Here it was. Send Andrew down to queue at 8.30am armed with 3 towels and precise instructions on where to make the drop. What a beauty seeing those Germans having to form an orderly line behind him and having to fight with the Dutch for pool side rights. It's a ruthless world out there and clearly other parents were using the same strategy, as there were 3 times less the number of people in the pool (all of them under 15 years old) than there was towels on sun loungers. Then at around 10am after they have finished their croissants and salami and neatly tidied up their tents, the adults arrive to sizzle in the sun. And of course once you have a sun lounger, then you yourself then become the subject of preying eyes from the vultures hanging around the edge waiting to nick your bed. I must remember to take a false dog turd with me next time to guarantee my spot.

The pool had some pretty strict life guards and flips and bombs were outlawed. So it was with great amusement to all watching that Andrew took every opportunity given when the life guards back was turned to do a range of acrobatics. His greatest moment came when some little tyke required first aid and created the perfect distraction. As he landed another treble back flip, he quickly gave an innocent smile and did doggy paddle as the life guard looked on suspiciously. Another form of entertainment was to load up the super soaker and pretend to squirt it at each other, but deliberately miss and actually get people who were lying asleep. Or our own version of Russian Roulette, where you lie on the inflatable tyre and are spun around. Whoever your feet are pointing at when it stops becomes your next victim and you had to splash them badly as you swam past. It was pretty indiscriminate and targets included toddlers, a group of spotty Dutch teenagers, an ice cream seller and some Spanish looking posers whose Speedo's looked more like a cheese wire than swim wear. I also had a pair of 8 year old Speedo's but had to dispose of them. A day at the Aqua Park on all the flumes had caused some serious perishing to the lycra saddle. Concerned that I might terrify some children whilst doing roly poly's, I had to use my reserve pair (6 years old but slightly more clingy). And of course we stood out like beacons with our white chests and legs. In contrast to the Dutch, Italians and Spaniards who were now 'well done', we looked like a family of Albino's.

For travelers heading to Camping le Piannacce, the pool is small and simple. If your after fancy slides and gubbins like that then go somewhere else. There is a little kids pool too, but apart from that it's a no frills affair apart from the acrobatic white boys afternoon show.

Camping le Pianacce

Photo: The campsite is set in amongst those trees. Surprisingly there were few midges and mosquito's and the only little annoying things were crying babies. Also in photo the typical layout of Eurocamps tents. Not a lot of space between them, enabling you to get up close and intimate with your Dutch neighbours!

We chose to camp in Tuscany. We couldn't afford hotels and we thought that campsites might offer a bit more for the kids. We booked in one with Eurocamp. I like camping and although Eurocamp is more like 'glamping', nothing quite beats the smells, sounds and freedom living in a tent brings. Of course you have to get the right site and hours of searching through websites led us to http://www.campinglepianacce.it/ Camping Le Pianacce near Catagneto Carducci. I dreaded being stuck with a load of Brits and campsites where they spoon feed people someone's idea of entertainment. What we wanted was somewhere to be left alone, but space to opt in to the stuff going on site without having to be friends for life with some awful family from Gateshead who latch on to you simply because you are from the same shores as them.
We arrived early at the campsite. First impressions last and I was impressed with the neat terraces of pitches for the tents, set against the hillside. They were all enclosed by pine trees and a winding road that reached the great heights of the campsite with spectacular views. It was tidy, not over sized and family orientated. Miriam, the girl at reception let us in early so we made a bee line for the pool whilst we waited for our Eurocamp reps to roll up. It bought us time to check out the facilities. Lets face it, when you go on holiday you are looking for clean loos, good showers, space to wash up and places to eat and a shop. Throw in a few sports facilities and that's more or less what we had go. The only criticism was the tents were very close, and later in the week when babies in neighbouring tents woke up crying, or when people were snoring, it sounded very close. The terraces allow you to spy on the tents below, and as we sat out on the chairs each night, we did a lot of people watching in between games of Monopoly.

Tom & some other gap year type youngsters were our reps. We didn't really need them but I can imagine some holiday makers put on them an awful lot. We did however nick his table tennis stuff and helped ourselves to the many books and games freely available to the campers. There is a whole row of tents for the offices of these holiday companies. I had a snoop in the others to see what goodies they had, but kept getting caught so I had to pretend to be lost and came out empty handed.

Our tent was okay. For readers thinking of going to Eurocamps then here's what the budget tents involve.
- A double wire bed. Not bad but will do.
- A separate bedroom that has a curtain to split it. 3 wire beds and linen.
- A cooker and grill with a couple of shelves. Pots, plates, etc.
- Electricity
- Tables and chairs outside, with a few sun loungers.
I think other firms offered slightly more luxury's such as outdoor lamps and better kitchens, but at what price i do not know.

No loo, but the campsite loos are very clean, plentiful and never far. It also has a laundry so save yourself space in your suitcase and to some washing instead. A good washing up area where you can meet people as you do your dishes. Great showers and an outdoor wash area with shaving points.

So we moved in, set up home for 2 weeks and realised we were one of the few British families there. The rest were Germans, Dutch or Spanish. We were soon to learn how to deal with them in the hostile territory of the swimming pool.



Photo: Inside a tent wearing a quality souvenir from Florence

Tollgate Scandal

Photo: Stuart's attempt to pay the fine with a large pine cone failed.



The journey had been good so far, but I was still adjusting to the wrong side of the road and wrong position of my gear stick. A few crunches eventually found the one I was looking for. We then face our first hurdle...the toll gates. I had a choice of several to choose from, and naturally I went to the quietest one. Not a lot seemed to be happening here. Nobody was in the booth and there appeared to be a lack of payment boxes, so perhaps the deal was you pay at the other end. The gate opened so I headed through it and off we went. Several kilometers later we turned up at another. This time there was a part human being in the shape of an Italian woman sat in the booth. After an exchange of a few words, we established that I had come from Pisa and not Manchester. She then got out of her box and made a note of the reg and charged us 5 Euros, and then gave us the biggest receipt ever. Into the glove compartment it went, unaware of what it was.

3 days later Emma was reading it and discovered it was actually a fine. My first ever motoring offence was on foreign soil. But that woman had made no mention of it and politely smiled as she had handed it to me. What a cow! 51 Euro's...the cheek of it. Seemingly (much to the amusement of the campsite staff) we had driven through the Auto Pass gate...the one used by people who have purchased...err an auto pass. Bugger it, I was now being charged 51 Euros to pay for the privilege of driving on all of Tuscany's Autostrada, even though I was actually using around 40 miles of their pot hole ridden attempt of a motorway. Paying it was no fun as it meant a visit to the post office. I discovered that post office staff are universally miserable. Perhaps there is an employment agency specialising in people with no facial expression muscles and who are genetically linked to Alsatians. Anyway Mrs Jobswrothyio simply handed over a form that was in Italian and told Emma to fill it in. This meant getting it translated at the campsite, where by now the story of the stupid British people's toll fine was spreading like wildfire. The other thing about post offices around the world it they are full of pensioner's who queue. After a long stand we got the fine payed.

Photo: My least favourite place in Tuscany...the tolls





So my advice if going to Italy is avoid where you can the tolls. The other roads are slower but more scenic and have less bovine creatures employed to work on them