It's amazing how these new cheap flight companies changed the way we travel nowadays. We went from house to house, Eindhoven to Montignoso, in just 8 hours. The flight itself took about 2 hours, the drive about 1 hour and a half. The remaining time was spent waiting. Waiting at the check-in, waiting at the passport and handbaggage screening, waiting at the gate, waiting at the stairs of the airplane, waiting in the airplane, waiting for collecting the luggage. Nowadays they do not allow you to bring any liquid with you any more, except for the ones you buy at the airport, or in the cabin itself. Clearly a way for them to earn the money back!!
Saturday, May 5th - Montignoso
Driving to Montignoso was difficult. Montignoso is not a place, but is a set of places, starting from the bold mountain, down to the beach some 20km below it. Cinquale, Piazza, Prato, Cerreto, are all part of Montignoso, and they are randomly indicated on the signs. To drive there from Pisa, it took us 90 minutes, instead of the 40 needed to cover the distance. The part in which we were hosted - we stayed at my sister's place, is on the mountain. It's not very high, but it maintains the steepness of a mountain. The village is very nice, though it has nothing noticeable. My sister's place is a house that my brother in law is restructuring. The front door is on the third floor. Via some staircases you can descend to the 2nd floor and to the ground floor. Thanks to the mountain geometry, levitation is not needed to enter the house. The 3rd floor is ready and inhabited by my sister and my brother in law, whilst the ground floor needs still a lot of work. The 2nd floor is almost ready, there are doors and windows, floors and walls, there is even electricity and water, even though the latter is always cold. Walking to the village takes 5 minutes one way, and 15 the other way. Driving takes about 10 minutes both ways, since the only viable road has to climb the other side of the valley and cross the pass some 3 km further away. We decided to descend walking to the town-hall square, where some parked cars, a marble fountain and some tables and chairs delimited the borders of a children's football field. The goal was formed by the townhall wall, delimited by a pillar on the left, and by the municipality door on the right, which when open offered an undoubtful evidence of a missed shot. Some children invited Milo to play football with them; Kyara was eating a icecream, whilst I was pretending to listen to my sister's monologue about her life problems. When the townhall clock ratified the end of the ootball match, we walked through the village, and eventually climbed back home, where Loes and Julia were still enjoying their siesta.
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