This day last year, contrary to sanity, my visitor and I went hill town-hopping. To say it was hot is an understatement. Just like today.
Only a week ago I was mentally praising this summer, especially in comparison with the drought last year: around me were more greens than yellows, rain regularly came to freshen us up, there was no need to turn on air-conditioning, the breeze through the house did it all. Just at it’s supposed to be.
Then we went to Rome for the weekend. There was a short summer downpour every afternoon, keeping it nice and fresh. As we left Rome on Monday to return home (about 1.5 h north), the thermometer in the car showed 29 degrees C (84.2 F). In the air-conditioned car I felt fresh (if a bit cold), as I was looking at the lovely colours around me.
As we were nearing home, I strained my failing eyes to see which number was on the display. It didn’t quite register. Could it be? I opened the window, stuck my arm out and indeed, the blow-drying effect was unmistakable. 37 C (98.6 F). At almost 6 pm.
Today, as it’s a degree or two hotter, I remember the 20th of June last year when my visiting friend and I thought it would be fun to play tourists. First we wanted to make a photo of Castello del Boccale near Livorno similar to this one, but failed badly and had a soak instead.
Then we went inland to the towns of Castagneto Carducci, which came door-recommended (two door posts from there are here and here), and Sassetta where a sculpturing trend was discovered. (Where is more information on the sculptures and history? Where else than in The Maremma Guide!)
It was hot. So hot that my friend said No! to the third town on the hill winking to us as we passed it. I obeyed. It was Massa Marittima.
See the captions for additional (mis)information.