So off we go to Tuscany in a much smaller car - there are no bigger vehicles left at the car hire as it is an August holiday weekend. Rather cramped for the 3 adults in the back of what is essentially a 4-seater. A roster was developed so that every time we stopped, everyone except the driver moved one space to the right and so all got to see the view through the front window.
Locked in the boot back in Milan were my bag with comb, hair band, video camera (!) and cell phone (!), and worst of all, M's mountain bike which he had planned to use all over Tuscany. Comb and hair band - not a problem - seldom look in the mirror. Video camera - crying shame. Cell phone - not a problem for me, but family back in SA were convinced I had died in an Italian earthquake which had made the international news but wasn't felt in Italy. (They are always beside themselves when they can't contact me, for some reason. I rather like it.) Mountain bike - M was furious!
As we strolled the vias and vianettas, every time we looked behind us, there was M on his cell phone, bending the ear of the unforthcoming individual back at the car hire. The hand gestures and body language made it quite apparent that M was getting the short end of the stick and eventually he admitted defeat against bureaucracy. The key had been found in Rome and would be flown up to Milan, so we could get our things out of the boot when we returned from Tuscany. How helpful. He muttered about third world countries in Europe for a long time after that.
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