Those of a nervous disposition may wish to read no further. This post may contain a photograph of my underpants (if you look very hard).

The tedium that is Laundrygate dragged on into a third day. So dull is our retired life that we woke up discussing our still unwashed clothes! But then we took decisive action. We decided that rather than spend the day looking for a laundry, or spending another €20 just moving to another campsite to use their facilities, we would laugh in the face of the broken washing machine and do our washing by hand. This is the sort of can do attitude that has made Britain great, I think you’ll agree.

The terrible scene of Laundrygate

Unfortunately this irksome task, together with putting the clothes through the still working dryer, took us all morning.

X-Rated. Tim’s pants drying

Following lunch we started off cross country. Our next move is from Italy’s West Coast to the East. In our way of course are the Apennines, the bane of movement in Italy from time immemorial.

SatNav plotted us a course, of sorts. He is supposed to be programmed to only select a route suitable for the 4 ton behemoth that is Basil. As usual SatNav seemed to have mistaken Basil for a svelte racing car and we were soon winding our way up the narrowest, steepest roads imaginable. I must have navigated a thousand hairpins as we climbed above the tree line into the clouds, to barren ground inhabited only by heathers, which were at least in bloom.

Anyone wanting a cheap holiday home should come to the mountains between La Spezia and Parma. There were dozens of derelict, but very picturesque houses peppering the countryside. They would be lovely in summer, but by the snowchain signs on the roads I suspect inaccessible in winter.

After 80 miles we finally descended to the eastern plains and the rather unprepossessing town of Collecchio. Basil pulled onto his free overnight stop on the car park of a local sports club (44.751851, 10.222586). It is perhaps the least attractive of our stops to date, but since it is free, thanks to the people of Collecchio are due.

Basil’s resting place for the night

From the roadside signs we seem to be in the heart of Parmesan country. We may go to look for a piece before we set off for Ravenna tomorrow.