Lucca

Lucca is now one of my favourite small cities in the whole world. After the crowds and the soullessness of Florence (I bet most of the visitors queueing for the Uffizi had no real idea why they were there – or is that me just being judgmental?) Lucca was a revelation as to just how perfect a Renaissance city could be.
From the station, you enter the city through its immense walls and then wander through streets into piazzas and it's all harmonious and lovely. I was booked into a guest house, the San Frediano, and found it easily enough just off the main shopping street, the Via Filungo. I had thought of taking a siesta, but having tasted a sample of the city in the walk from the station I wanted more, so after a shower and change I set out and wandered aimlessly for a couple of hours, admiring everything. Such a difference from Florence, the pace was much slower, the numbers of tourists less oppressive and the atmosphere much more comfortable. I had dinner in a restaurant a couple of doors from where I was staying. At 7pm, I was the only person in the place at first, but I was hungry, wanted an early night and couldn't wait any more. It was a local place serving Tuscan food – I had pasta made from chestnut flour as a starter and rabbit (coniglio alla Lucchese) as a main course. I can recommend it!

Florence

And so we arrived in Florence two and a quarter hours late, at 9.30 instead of 7.15. No matter, things in Italy have a habit of working out differently, and I was in no hurry at this stage. I dumped my bag in the left luggage, got a bite to eat in the station and set off for a couple of hours wandering around the world's favourite cultural icon.
And it is staggering! I really only touched the surface but I have to say that it was too much. The crowds queueing to get into the Duomo, wandering around the Piazza della Signoria and across the Ponte Vecchio. Busy streets, narrow pavements... It didn't help that I was tired from the journey. Funnily enough, one of my favourite buildings in Florence is its station, Santa Maria Novella, built in a modernist style during the fascist era (a style that was not in favour with the regime). Definitely one of the world's great stations. Anyway, I duly wandered around the Piazza del Duomo, saw Ghiberti's famous Baptistery doors (or at least the replicas – the originals were moved from their home to a museum a while ago), Orsanmichele, the Piazza della Signoria, Ponte Vecchio, and the San Lorenzo market. It seemed that every corner I turned, there was something I had studied as part of my OU degree course. A bit footsore, I then had a bit of lunch, retrieved my bags from left luggage and got on the train to Lucca.

Manchester to Florence

An uneventful journey from Manchester to Paris. We arrived at Gare du Nord slightly early at about 5.20 in the afternoon, giving me almost an hour and a half to reach the Gare de Bercy for the night train to Florence.
Paris in rush hour is pretty busy and the platforms on the RER cross-Paris trains were packed. Then I noticed that the trains on the line I wanted (RER D) weren't running, so I had to take a different route using RER B and Metro line 14. But I arrived at the station in plenty of time, and joined the crowds waiting for the train to start loading. Which it eventually did, so everyone piled on and I found my compartment right at the front of the train.
I was the last one to join my compartment, a four-berth couchette. The others were all French, also all travelling to Florence. One married couple and a slightly creepy single man who barely spoke the whole journey. I did get to practice my French a bit, hoping it wouldn't interfere too much with my Italian for the next few days.
We left Paris about 20 minutes late and travelled out along the rivers Seine and Yonne, with our first stop at Dijon. Shortly afterwards, I went to bed.
Sleeping on overnight trains is never that restful, and I woke up several times in the night. But at around 7am I got up and realised we were a bit late. The train was due into Florence at 7.15, but we were still way north of there. In fact, we were approaching Modena (where I will be changing trains for Mantua on my way home). No explanation from the attendants as to what had happened. We missed out the planned stop at Bologna (passengers for there having to change at Modena). I remember from an Italian class a chapter 'Bologna – tutti i treni si portano a Bologna' (all trains lead to Bologna – like the Crewe of northern Italy but with better food and prettier Renaissance buildings), but in this case our train didn't. And so we trundled on through the Apennines. You don't get to see much as a lot of the journey between Bologna and Florence is in tunnels, but it looks beautiful, with Swiss-style chalets and high green hills.

Off tomorrow

Tomorrow it all starts!

I'm mostly packed, got my bank accounts set up (I use Nationwide while travelling as they don't have extra charges for using ATMs in Europe), sorting out my new international SIM card (so I don't have to pay a fortune to receive calls).

I also phoned the owner of my house, Signora Nunzia, to request bedding and towels for my stay. Once I reach Salina on Saturday afternoon I will ring again to arrange to meet and enter the house.

I'm very excited and looking forward to the journey.