In the hills of Tuscany

I have a thing about Tuscany. I’ve never even been there, mind you, but it’s become a bit of an obsession of mine. I’ve never even been to Italy, although I’ve flown over it a few times en route to Greece. But Tuscany, now that place appeals.

It is not the beauty of Florence that I want to experience, glorious though that must be. And there is so much to learn about the Renaissance, the Medieval period, all that art and architecture. For someone with a modicum of culture, Tuscany must be a dream destination. For someone without a modicum of culture – me – it’s something else that appeals to me. It’s all those glorious hills, those holiday properties with private pools, it’s the red wine, the lovely food; it’s doing nothing.

Now and again, when I have too much time on my hands, I plan my ideal holiday in Tuscany. My family and best friends will all be there, in a vast and spacious villa, lying by the pool, driving to nearby villages, playing board games of an evening, barbecuing lots of fresh food and watching the sun go down, with bonfires gently smouldering in the distance. And that will be every single day for two weeks, at least.

Everyone can do what they like. Florence won’t be that far away, wherever we are. If people go there, please stock up on essentials, like more beer, red wine and beer. Did I mention beer? You can’t have enough beer.

Of an evening, there will be music, but nothing to riotous. The sort of stuff you get on those Chilled Ibiza CDs. And then tomorrow, it’s back to the sun bed, all day, except for visits to the fridge.

This will never happen, of course, but it remains a distant dream, almost a fantasy, that never disappears throughout the passage of time.

But I have got a thing about Tuscany. I hope to see you there.