It was very scenic driving through the misty mountains above Nice and then along the winding, coast road, through the tunnels and into Italy. It took about 90 minutes to reach Dolceacqua, which is full of pretty, narrow lanes, an old castle and an ancient bridge.
The streets were quiet and the few pizzerias we found were all closed so it was a relief to come across Il Borgo, which luckily did gorgeous, coal-fired pizza with thin, crispy bases and plenty of prosciutto on top. Delicious.
The rain worsened over lunch and the Italians in the restaurant were bemused by my reiterations of the phrase non c'è due senza tre, which, of course means "it never rains, it pours" (but not in the literal sense), which was interesting for my family but probably made no sense to the Italians. I was very happy to parlare italiano, though.
The rain worsened over lunch and the Italians in the restaurant were bemused by my reiterations of the phrase non c'è due senza tre, which, of course means "it never rains, it pours" (but not in the literal sense), which was interesting for my family but probably made no sense to the Italians. I was very happy to parlare italiano, though.
On the way back home, we stopped at Ventimiglia, near the French border, which wasn't the most exciting place on a rainy Friday afternoon. We drove on home, which meant the sun came right out, producing a gorgeous rainbow over the Alps. And it was a good pizza...
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