Our last day in Malaga the rain came down in stair rods! In the bar where we had lunch, I noticed a flock of punkies (see more here) in the freezer.
My late friend Gwen adored Punky, so it was nice to have a reminder of her.
Onto San Gimignano – city of towers (plus one modern one).
The towers were raised by rival families as power statements. We imagined some porr, little local goverment officer going roung “have you got planning permission for this ‘ere tower?”
I loved this brick vaulting
I wanted to go here when I knew we were going to Florence. Rowan spent some time here when she was a student and had a lovely time. We raised a glass of wine to her at lunch. Mary Maclure Rowan Bedford – may your memory never die.
This passageway was very enticing and it led us to a rather good wine bar.
Varigated brick work was not just the perogative of the Victorians.
Another lovely roof garden.
It’s quite a touristy sort of place so lots of shop selling salami and other delicacies.
This chap was rather the worse for wear.
A tiny bus stop – for tiny buses.
OK – there were some grest frescos in the church. But we were rather frescoed out by that stage and settled for some rather good ice-cream.