I can certainly recommend an Italian trip in the Zed, I have done it 6 times now and never bore of it.
Write Up THE ITALIAN JOB
- Thread starter Pauliebhoy
- Start date
Touched northern Italy this year Mike.I can certainly recommend an Italian trip in the Zed, I have done it 6 times now and never bore of it.
Day 14
Today was largely given over to food. No complaints from either of us.
Last night in Modena, the restaurant we picked had its own butcher’s counter. You choose your meat — lamb chops in my case and a veal steak for Mandy — then they cook it for you with whatever vegetables you fancy. £50 including drinks, and it was excellent.
Our accommodation was equally good: a superb serviced apartment with a balcony.
We decided to give the cheese-making tour a miss, as we’ve done that a few times in the UK.
So our first stop was Conti Prosciutto di Parma, a family firm world-renowned for its Parma ham.
The tour began, with a plate of five different prosciuttos and half a glass of local wine. This immediately set a very high standard for factory visits.
The prosciutto was quite simply the best I have ever tasted.
Suitably fortified, we took the lift to the first floor to see where production begins. They make four different grades of prosciutto, depending on the quality of the pork leg.
Keeping it simple, the legs are washed, put through what they describe as a “massaging machine”, salted and then left to rest for 14 days.
Frankly, being massaged, salted and left alone for a fortnight sounds quite appealing.
The process is then repeated.
Over the next 18–24 months, the hams gradually work their way upwards through the building until, by the time they reach the fourth floor, they are ready for slicing.
The really astonishing part is that just eight employees produce around 120,000 prosciutto legs a year.
That works out at 15,000 legs each.
From there we set off for our next stop, Medici Ermete, for a tour and tasting of traditional balsamic vinegar, which is considered to be the best in the world.
We got a huge surprise on the way when we suddenly passed the enormous Mutti tomato-processing plant.
We buy loads of Mutti products at home, so it was quite something to unexpectedly see where all those tins and bottles actually come from.
And when I say enormous, I mean enormous.
At Medici Ermete we joined a small group of American and Dutch visitors for what turned out to be a fascinating tour.
Our host explained that much of what is sold as Modena balsamic vinegar is actually a blend — rather like some whisky.
Their traditional balsamic, however, starts with pure grape juice, with nothing else added.
It is produced in tiny quantities, with the barrels left partially open so evaporation can take place and the flavours slowly become more concentrated.
Interestingly, balsamic production began as a by-product of the family’s main wine business and is still treated almost as a hobby.
Quite an impressive hobby really
It is not sold online or through shops. If you want a bottle, you have to visit them.
The vinegar is matured in a succession of small wooden barrels made from different woods including oak, beech and cherry. It develops through three broad stages: 2–8 years, 8–12 years and 12–25 years, represented by bronze, silver and gold.
Naturally, there was a tasting at the end.
For us, the silver was the standout, so that is what we bought.
I won’t say what it cost.
Let’s just say this is not balsamic vinegar that will be getting casually sloshed over a bowl of lettuce.
Each presentation box has its own unique number and certificate of conformity.
Tonight we are staying right in the centre of Parma, with the Z safely tucked away in the hotel’s underground car park.
We only discovered when checking in that parking costs £15, but by then the Z was already disappearing underground, so negotiations had effectively ended.
We looked at the hotel dinner menu, but it was one of those rather poncy affairs involving edible flowers, artistic smears and portions apparently designed for people who aren’t actually hungry.
So we did the sensible thing.
We opened the Glovo app, ordered an Indian takeaway and ate it on the balcony.
It wasn’t quite up to British Indian restaurant standards, but it was perfectly acceptable — and, more importantly, there were no edible flowers anywhere near it.
Tomorrow we drive the Amalfi Coast, before our final night in Italy.
Today was largely given over to food. No complaints from either of us.
Last night in Modena, the restaurant we picked had its own butcher’s counter. You choose your meat — lamb chops in my case and a veal steak for Mandy — then they cook it for you with whatever vegetables you fancy. £50 including drinks, and it was excellent.
Our accommodation was equally good: a superb serviced apartment with a balcony.
We decided to give the cheese-making tour a miss, as we’ve done that a few times in the UK.
So our first stop was Conti Prosciutto di Parma, a family firm world-renowned for its Parma ham.
The tour began, with a plate of five different prosciuttos and half a glass of local wine. This immediately set a very high standard for factory visits.
The prosciutto was quite simply the best I have ever tasted.
Suitably fortified, we took the lift to the first floor to see where production begins. They make four different grades of prosciutto, depending on the quality of the pork leg.
Keeping it simple, the legs are washed, put through what they describe as a “massaging machine”, salted and then left to rest for 14 days.
Frankly, being massaged, salted and left alone for a fortnight sounds quite appealing.
The process is then repeated.
Over the next 18–24 months, the hams gradually work their way upwards through the building until, by the time they reach the fourth floor, they are ready for slicing.
The really astonishing part is that just eight employees produce around 120,000 prosciutto legs a year.
That works out at 15,000 legs each.
From there we set off for our next stop, Medici Ermete, for a tour and tasting of traditional balsamic vinegar, which is considered to be the best in the world.
We got a huge surprise on the way when we suddenly passed the enormous Mutti tomato-processing plant.
We buy loads of Mutti products at home, so it was quite something to unexpectedly see where all those tins and bottles actually come from.
And when I say enormous, I mean enormous.
At Medici Ermete we joined a small group of American and Dutch visitors for what turned out to be a fascinating tour.
Our host explained that much of what is sold as Modena balsamic vinegar is actually a blend — rather like some whisky.
Their traditional balsamic, however, starts with pure grape juice, with nothing else added.
It is produced in tiny quantities, with the barrels left partially open so evaporation can take place and the flavours slowly become more concentrated.
Interestingly, balsamic production began as a by-product of the family’s main wine business and is still treated almost as a hobby.
Quite an impressive hobby really
It is not sold online or through shops. If you want a bottle, you have to visit them.
The vinegar is matured in a succession of small wooden barrels made from different woods including oak, beech and cherry. It develops through three broad stages: 2–8 years, 8–12 years and 12–25 years, represented by bronze, silver and gold.
Naturally, there was a tasting at the end.
For us, the silver was the standout, so that is what we bought.
I won’t say what it cost.
Let’s just say this is not balsamic vinegar that will be getting casually sloshed over a bowl of lettuce.
Each presentation box has its own unique number and certificate of conformity.
Tonight we are staying right in the centre of Parma, with the Z safely tucked away in the hotel’s underground car park.
We only discovered when checking in that parking costs £15, but by then the Z was already disappearing underground, so negotiations had effectively ended.
We looked at the hotel dinner menu, but it was one of those rather poncy affairs involving edible flowers, artistic smears and portions apparently designed for people who aren’t actually hungry.
So we did the sensible thing.
We opened the Glovo app, ordered an Indian takeaway and ate it on the balcony.
It wasn’t quite up to British Indian restaurant standards, but it was perfectly acceptable — and, more importantly, there were no edible flowers anywhere near it.
Tomorrow we drive the Amalfi Coast, before our final night in Italy.
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Restaurant with a butchers counter
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Bellissimo!
Great write up on a fantastic trip.
Hope you and Mandy are well.
Stevie
Great write up on a fantastic trip.
Hope you and Mandy are well.
Stevie
Day 15
We left Parma this morning and were very grateful to see the temperature drop to around 22°C, with overcast skies. After the heat of the last few days, it felt positively Arctic.
Once on the motorway, we were amazed at just how many food manufacturers we passed whose products are familiar from UK supermarket shelves. Strangely, though, you see virtually no British products in Italian supermarkets. The notable exceptions seem to be whisky and Walker’s shortbread. So at least Scotland is keeping the flag flying.
Our target for the day was the city of Imperia, about an hour from the French border.
Driving down this stretch of coast is slightly unusual because you don’t really drive along the road — you spend most of your time driving through tunnels. Tunnel, daylight, tunnel, daylight, tunnel… repeat for several hours.
Once past Genoa it was a fairly straightforward run, and by the time we arrived we had covered about 205 miles, with a few stops along the way to stretch our legs.
Imperia itself was a surprise. Before this trip it had never really appeared on our radar, but it is actually quite an impressive city.
We are staying in a B&B Hotel, a fairly new hotel brand that we have used before. There is an underground car park opposite, and as we pulled up to take a ticket, the Bip&Go beeped and the barrier lifted automatically.
Neither of us knew it could be used for car park
We went out for a wander and parts of Imperia reminded me quite strongly of Florence, with its arches, squares and old buildings.
I also came across a café that immediately reminded me of some of the old Italian cafés you used to see around Glasgow in the 1970s. In fact, parts of the city feel as though someone pressed the pause button about 50 years ago and nobody has felt any great urgency to press play again.
Then I noticed a local man, probably around 70, coming out of an ice-cream shop clutching a tub.
So I followed him in and bought a €2 tub.
It was absolutely superb.
I genuinely haven’t tasted ice cream like that since I was a kid. Proper Italian ice cream — simple, rich and ridiculously good.
From there we wandered down towards the harbour, mainly to have a look around and find somewhere for dinner.
There were plenty of very impressive yachts moored up.
And then we stopped dead.
Sitting in the harbour was an absolutely enormous yacht.
It turned out to be M/Y SYMPHONY, a 101.5-metre (333 ft) Feadship superyacht, publicly reported as belonging to Bernard Arnault, the LVMH billionaire.
Interestingly, Italian reports this year say Arnault has apparently ordered a new 143-metre Feadship, costing somewhere in the region of $650 million, which will eventually replace Symphony.
So apparently 101.5 metres had started to feel a bit cramped.
Two other things struck me today.
Since leaving the UK we have now seen seven Zeds, two of them G29s. We spotted another one today near the harbour.
The other thing is much stranger.
After the second day of the trip — when there were still vehicles around that had obviously just come off the ferry — we have seen virtually no UK-registered vehicles at all.
No cars.
No motorhomes.
No caravans.
No articulated lorries.
Nothing.
Considering how far we have travelled, that has really surprised us.
Dinner tonight is a little Turkish place directly across the road from the hotel, so that will do nicely. Hopefully there will also be some football on the television later.
Tomorrow, though, is Mandy’s day.
My big moment on this trip was finding the family property in Barga.
Tomorrow we turn our attention to an F1 circuit, a hotel room that has cost an obscene amount of money…
…and, hopefully, the chance for Mandy to finally do something she has wanted to do for most of her life.
No pressure then.
We left Parma this morning and were very grateful to see the temperature drop to around 22°C, with overcast skies. After the heat of the last few days, it felt positively Arctic.
Once on the motorway, we were amazed at just how many food manufacturers we passed whose products are familiar from UK supermarket shelves. Strangely, though, you see virtually no British products in Italian supermarkets. The notable exceptions seem to be whisky and Walker’s shortbread. So at least Scotland is keeping the flag flying.
Our target for the day was the city of Imperia, about an hour from the French border.
Driving down this stretch of coast is slightly unusual because you don’t really drive along the road — you spend most of your time driving through tunnels. Tunnel, daylight, tunnel, daylight, tunnel… repeat for several hours.
Once past Genoa it was a fairly straightforward run, and by the time we arrived we had covered about 205 miles, with a few stops along the way to stretch our legs.
Imperia itself was a surprise. Before this trip it had never really appeared on our radar, but it is actually quite an impressive city.
We are staying in a B&B Hotel, a fairly new hotel brand that we have used before. There is an underground car park opposite, and as we pulled up to take a ticket, the Bip&Go beeped and the barrier lifted automatically.
Neither of us knew it could be used for car park
We went out for a wander and parts of Imperia reminded me quite strongly of Florence, with its arches, squares and old buildings.
I also came across a café that immediately reminded me of some of the old Italian cafés you used to see around Glasgow in the 1970s. In fact, parts of the city feel as though someone pressed the pause button about 50 years ago and nobody has felt any great urgency to press play again.
Then I noticed a local man, probably around 70, coming out of an ice-cream shop clutching a tub.
So I followed him in and bought a €2 tub.
It was absolutely superb.
I genuinely haven’t tasted ice cream like that since I was a kid. Proper Italian ice cream — simple, rich and ridiculously good.
From there we wandered down towards the harbour, mainly to have a look around and find somewhere for dinner.
There were plenty of very impressive yachts moored up.
And then we stopped dead.
Sitting in the harbour was an absolutely enormous yacht.
It turned out to be M/Y SYMPHONY, a 101.5-metre (333 ft) Feadship superyacht, publicly reported as belonging to Bernard Arnault, the LVMH billionaire.
Interestingly, Italian reports this year say Arnault has apparently ordered a new 143-metre Feadship, costing somewhere in the region of $650 million, which will eventually replace Symphony.
So apparently 101.5 metres had started to feel a bit cramped.
Two other things struck me today.
Since leaving the UK we have now seen seven Zeds, two of them G29s. We spotted another one today near the harbour.
The other thing is much stranger.
After the second day of the trip — when there were still vehicles around that had obviously just come off the ferry — we have seen virtually no UK-registered vehicles at all.
No cars.
No motorhomes.
No caravans.
No articulated lorries.
Nothing.
Considering how far we have travelled, that has really surprised us.
Dinner tonight is a little Turkish place directly across the road from the hotel, so that will do nicely. Hopefully there will also be some football on the television later.
Tomorrow, though, is Mandy’s day.
My big moment on this trip was finding the family property in Barga.
Tomorrow we turn our attention to an F1 circuit, a hotel room that has cost an obscene amount of money…
…and, hopefully, the chance for Mandy to finally do something she has wanted to do for most of her life.
No pressure then.
- Joined
- Apr 1, 2016
- Points
- 253
- Location
- Maybole , South Ayrshire
- Model of Z
- Z3 Individual Dakar / Orinoco Individual
This has been a really good write up of your journeys so far Paul with some great pictures
looking forward to reading the rest of your journey.
Stephen.
looking forward to reading the rest of your journey.
Stephen.
DAY 16
We left Italy and arrived in Monte Carlo at around 11.45am.
Mandy had programmed the sat nav so that we took the scenic route down into Monte Carlo and, entirely coincidentally of course, managed to drive one or two sections of the F1 circuit.
First up was the road with the start/finish line.
We then went through the famous tunnel, although at around 40kph because there was a car in front of us.
Ahead was a roundabout, so while waiting to pull out I had an idea.
Sports Plus.
Round the roundabout, back the way we had just come and through the tunnel again — this time with nobody in front of us.
Absolutely superb.
We then reached the swimming pool chicane. Again, thanks to traffic, no lap records were troubled, but it was still great fun.
Throughout this trip we’ve had lots of compliments about how good the Z looks. People have commented as we’ve driven past, or when we’ve been parked outside coffee shops, and generally it has attracted quite a bit of attention.
Driving around Monte Carlo, however, it might as well be a Mk3 Cortina.
On the plus side, the drivers here seem remarkably considerate. I was let out into traffic by a Maybach, a Lamborghini and a Rolls-Royce.
Maybe they could see that we were at least trying.
We’re staying at the Novotel, which has an underground car park, meaning this is now the third night running that the Z has been tucked safely underground.
We parked up, but check-in was still a couple of hours away, so we went for a walk.
Mandy had mapped out some other sections of the F1 circuit that we could walk to, with our first target being the railway station. When we got there we spotted a stop for the open-top sightseeing bus.
A quick Google later and we had tickets on my phone, and ten minutes after that the bus arrived.
Perfect.
It took us around virtually the whole F1 circuit as well as a good chunk of Monaco, and gave us the chance to take some interesting photographs.
One of them was of the yacht Lionheart, belonging to Philip Green, the former BHS and Arcadia owner which went bust. So if you worked there console yourself that he has a £100m yacht in Monaco whilst you eat your beans on toast for dinner.
After the bus tour we headed back to the car, collected our bags and checked into the hotel.
I had deliberately chosen a room with a balcony overlooking the swimming pool chicane.
I now have one kidney and one arm left after paying for it, but you only live once.
The casino was only about a ten-minute walk away, so naturally we went to have a look.
Apparently taking your high-performance car past the Casino de Monte-Carlo is a thing.
There’s a narrow road running directly in front of it, and the accepted procedure seems to be this:
Drive past at approximately 5kph, elbow hanging casually out of the window, rev the engine like buggery, repeatedly look around to check who is watching you, while simultaneously pretending that you couldn’t care less whether anybody is watching you.
It’s a complicated skill.
There was a café next to the casino, so we stopped for two Oranginas and a strawberry tart.
At this point, having already lost a kidney and an arm at the hotel, I also lost a leg.
We noticed that people wearing T-shirts and shorts were going into the casino, so we decided to join them, as there didn't seem to be a dress code.
Inside is absolutely incredible — all marble, gold and grandeur — although the actual gambling rooms are behind closed doors.
As I was rapidly running out of body parts to sell, we decided to give the gambling a miss.
We then noticed that the famous Fairmont hairpin was only about five minutes away, so we wandered down for a photograph.
On the way we passed all the designer shops.
Most have “assistants” standing at the door who look like a robber’s bulldog.
Not that there was any danger of us going in.
After all, I was already down to a single functioning limb.
It's also interesting to see "influencers" posing in front of designer shop windows getting their picture taken and the poses they do. They were also getting pictures outside the casino. All legs and sticky out chests, dressed like they going to a royal wedding whilst the rest of us look like we are the binmen.
We’re eating in the hotel tonight, where the prices are actually quite reasonable — provided you own an oil company, a car company and an airline.
Tomorrow’s exit from Monte Carlo could be interesting, in the sense if they have a rush hour we will be involved in it. Sport plus I hear you say.
The good thing is that Mandy speaks french. Given that I struggle with English we are making some headway when buying things which being honest isn't much, as I have nothing more to give.
Tomorrow we go again.
We left Italy and arrived in Monte Carlo at around 11.45am.
Mandy had programmed the sat nav so that we took the scenic route down into Monte Carlo and, entirely coincidentally of course, managed to drive one or two sections of the F1 circuit.
First up was the road with the start/finish line.
We then went through the famous tunnel, although at around 40kph because there was a car in front of us.
Ahead was a roundabout, so while waiting to pull out I had an idea.
Sports Plus.
Round the roundabout, back the way we had just come and through the tunnel again — this time with nobody in front of us.
Absolutely superb.
We then reached the swimming pool chicane. Again, thanks to traffic, no lap records were troubled, but it was still great fun.
Throughout this trip we’ve had lots of compliments about how good the Z looks. People have commented as we’ve driven past, or when we’ve been parked outside coffee shops, and generally it has attracted quite a bit of attention.
Driving around Monte Carlo, however, it might as well be a Mk3 Cortina.
On the plus side, the drivers here seem remarkably considerate. I was let out into traffic by a Maybach, a Lamborghini and a Rolls-Royce.
Maybe they could see that we were at least trying.
We’re staying at the Novotel, which has an underground car park, meaning this is now the third night running that the Z has been tucked safely underground.
We parked up, but check-in was still a couple of hours away, so we went for a walk.
Mandy had mapped out some other sections of the F1 circuit that we could walk to, with our first target being the railway station. When we got there we spotted a stop for the open-top sightseeing bus.
A quick Google later and we had tickets on my phone, and ten minutes after that the bus arrived.
Perfect.
It took us around virtually the whole F1 circuit as well as a good chunk of Monaco, and gave us the chance to take some interesting photographs.
One of them was of the yacht Lionheart, belonging to Philip Green, the former BHS and Arcadia owner which went bust. So if you worked there console yourself that he has a £100m yacht in Monaco whilst you eat your beans on toast for dinner.
After the bus tour we headed back to the car, collected our bags and checked into the hotel.
I had deliberately chosen a room with a balcony overlooking the swimming pool chicane.
I now have one kidney and one arm left after paying for it, but you only live once.
The casino was only about a ten-minute walk away, so naturally we went to have a look.
Apparently taking your high-performance car past the Casino de Monte-Carlo is a thing.
There’s a narrow road running directly in front of it, and the accepted procedure seems to be this:
Drive past at approximately 5kph, elbow hanging casually out of the window, rev the engine like buggery, repeatedly look around to check who is watching you, while simultaneously pretending that you couldn’t care less whether anybody is watching you.
It’s a complicated skill.
There was a café next to the casino, so we stopped for two Oranginas and a strawberry tart.
At this point, having already lost a kidney and an arm at the hotel, I also lost a leg.
We noticed that people wearing T-shirts and shorts were going into the casino, so we decided to join them, as there didn't seem to be a dress code.
Inside is absolutely incredible — all marble, gold and grandeur — although the actual gambling rooms are behind closed doors.
As I was rapidly running out of body parts to sell, we decided to give the gambling a miss.
We then noticed that the famous Fairmont hairpin was only about five minutes away, so we wandered down for a photograph.
On the way we passed all the designer shops.
Most have “assistants” standing at the door who look like a robber’s bulldog.
Not that there was any danger of us going in.
After all, I was already down to a single functioning limb.
It's also interesting to see "influencers" posing in front of designer shop windows getting their picture taken and the poses they do. They were also getting pictures outside the casino. All legs and sticky out chests, dressed like they going to a royal wedding whilst the rest of us look like we are the binmen.
We’re eating in the hotel tonight, where the prices are actually quite reasonable — provided you own an oil company, a car company and an airline.
Tomorrow’s exit from Monte Carlo could be interesting, in the sense if they have a rush hour we will be involved in it. Sport plus I hear you say.
The good thing is that Mandy speaks french. Given that I struggle with English we are making some headway when buying things which being honest isn't much, as I have nothing more to give.
Tomorrow we go again.
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