Mission Possible

After 2 lovely days feeling like a local in Firenze hanging out with the guys at Piazza Santo Spirito and only looking at my map once, I left the keys at the butcher for Anita and hopped on the wrong bus no. 11!All thanks to this young Italian girl who was blurred like a sotong - and we both ended up on the other side of town instead of the train stazione! Darn!

My prayers went unanswered on the cab which got stuck in the morning jam and the driver shook his head saying in Italian that we won't make it on time when I begged him imploring that I have a train to catch at 9.27am. Alas at 9.30am, we reached the stazione and I grudgingly paid 12 freakin' euros; cursing 'f%ck, f$ck, f£ck - porca putana'. Holding back a flood of frustrated tears, I tried to calm down and reminded myself that things happened for a good reason, like they had always on the trip so far.

True enough, my sunshine optimism paid off as the 10.27am train somehow miraculously managed to reach Grosseto at 1.10pm (15 mins earlier than scheduled!) and I ran to the bus ticket box outside and jostled with the manic schoolkids on the crowded 1.15pm bus with a sign advertising 'Saturnia'! Yay, I made it on the bus after all!

The children were on their way home after morning classes and I was the only Cinese tourista with no freaking idea where I'd get off in the middle of Maremma in south Toscana! I waited till there were only four of us on the bus and asked the driver in my shaky Italian.

"Scusa, parla inglese?" (excuse me, you speak English?) to which he made a funny face.
"Vorrei andare per Cascate del Gorello in Saturnia ma no loso dove fermate." (I would like to go to the Gorello hot springs in Saturnia but I don't know where to stop) and his reply was he'd tell me where to get off later.
I added "Possiblite' hotel vicino il cascate?" (possibility of hotel near the hot springs?) to which he nodded and pointed at the gas stazione, agreed the local auntie nodding her head.

I prayed that they understood me and took a giant leap of faith off the bus because hell, there would not be another bus untill tomorrow! Anyway it paid off alright because from that moment, I experienced one of the most beautiful days in my life. Il Complesso Gorello turned out to be an all-in-one appartamenti-ristorante-bar pitstop for travellers who were seeking the cascates.

My mini appartamento was so quaint with its wood-beamed ceiling and kitchenette which opened to the lovely lush Maremma landscape - plus it was a steal at 60euros. Despite the lack of pranzo at 3pm, I hugged myself, shrieked in joy and jumped like a mad woman on the big double bed, congratulating myself that I made it to Saturnia on my own!

After changing into my bikini, I asked the gas stazione men "Scusi, dove Cascate?" and a kind old mechanic drove me to the spot 5mins' walk away. I had no expectations of the hot springs because the closest thing I'd come across was probably the hot jacuzzi at my aunt's condo. So when I heard the whoshing cascades, my heartbeat quickened and I couldn't contain my excitement at the sight of the pretty swirling pools, tiered like lily pads mirroring the colours from the azure skies, white fluffy clouds and surrounding greenery.

I grinned at everyone like a mad woman possessed, dipping in the warm suplphurated waters while everyone especially the men stared openly at me, the only Asian traveller, with keen curiosity. I climbed over the edges to the top of the cascating falls and let the pounding torrents cleanse my body and soul. At that perfect moment, I even spotted a mini rainbow projecting above the waters. Perfetto paradiso.

As I was walking back, a car stopped and Albert greeted me in Italian, asking me where I was from. We had a polite awkward chat in Italian and I accepted his invitation for drinks at my hotel's bar after a split-second deliberation based on my well-honed sleaze-radar. It was hilarious talking to him as he didn't speak any English but my Italian improved vastly over a delizioso dinner of 'acquacotta' (traditional Florentine thick chunky vegetable soup over toast and a poached egg on top) and Cinghiale alla Maremma (tender wild boar Maremma-style in a slightly oversalted pomodoro sauce) flushed down with plenty of vino rosso.

I found out that Albert was only 28 (he baulked at my age and thought I was 22!), the youngest in his family, came from Triest in northern Italy near the Slovenian border and spoke a few East European languages (but still insisted he was stupido for not speaking any inglese!). He was on a break having driven down all the way from Triest to also survey some vacation houses here for his work (he built foundations of houses from what I understood). Albert was so polite and patient while teaching me a lot of new words (such as 'pieno' and 'piano') and corrected my retarded pronounciation as we bantered and smoked in his car, sheltered from the cold outside.

When I told him I was tired and wanted to sleep, he asked me if we could 'baciare' and proceeded to close in with a kiss but I said no and he kept asking me 'Perche?' (why?) desperately, to which I replied 'err, molto difficile dire' (very hard to say). How was I to explain to him in Italian that he is such a sweet guy (great build like a soccer player with snazzy shades and designer goatie) but the thick Italian ah beng silver necklace was too much for shallow me? Plus I was not attracted to him that way and decided that we were far off better as buono amici (good friends).

The next day, he turned up as promised at 10am to send me to Grosseto as the only bus was at 6am. We hung out at Roccalbergna, a small town 20mins away, where we climbed up an old fort for a glorious view of the greenery and then drove to Santa Caterina, another quaint town where he was staying. I chatted with his kind neighbours and inquired about their vegetable plots and legumes. After a long lunch with him and his friend at a local kopitiam, I blew him a kiss with a heavy heart and caught the 1.50pm bus to Grosseto, knowing I will never see him again.

I'd always remember him fondly as my Italian tutor and part of my perfect day in Saturnia. South Tuscany was so beautiful, wild and untainted that it made my heart sing and weep. At that moment I wish somebody was here with me to witness all its glory. When I reached the Grosseto train stazione at 3pm, it was too late to travel all the way to Puglia in the south so I picked the quaint medieval hilltown of Spoleto in nearby Umbria as a stopover. Somehow I liked the sound of it - Spoleto - perhaps it reminded me of polenta!