The church and square in Camaiore. This tiny quaint town is only a kilometer from our villa so it is our local village. There are small stores and shops and cafés. Almost everything we need is here and there is only the the music of spoken Italian, not many tourists venture here.
There are repeated texts from Randy and Diane. They arrive at Heathrow and her bag is lost, they have to make a cross London 80 mile train connection to Stansted to catch a Ryan air flight. It has taken us 4 days to be able to find our way to the villa. What do you think the odds are we see that bag this week? They make the flight, land on time and John Keir and I wheel into 15 minute parking at Pisa International, turn and head to the terminal and run right into them coming out. Little airports are simply divine. They head off to bed with a first class amenity bag and BA first class pajamas from Beth and a brand new dress Patti bought in town for her. Plus the residents chefs have a lovely table of Italian cheese, salami, and salads served with a glass or more of local red wine. The chill air with the windows open and utter exhaustion as companions makes for a good night sleep.
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