Beside the Seaside

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In Which I Flounce Out Of Italy

July 10, 2008 by Mike

San Marino

Route: Numana - Ancona - Rimini (Italy) - San Marino

I have absolutely nothing good to say about Numana or the Conero Azzurro campsite.

I'm not going to manage to avoid pointing out that the owner of the campsite claims to be the nephew of yesterday's hero, Padre Pio, in which case his uncle would be spinning in his grave.. if he was still in his grave.

But I'll try and leave it at that.

(Other than to add that a night there cost nearly five times what it costs to stay at Camping Afrodite in Calounia and was worth a tenth, no a fiftieth, of that fine place.)

Unfortunately, the town of Numana was no better. A crappy seafront featuring *46* different private beaches (you pay to go in/pay to use the loungers/ pay through the nose for drinks) and no free public beach. Talk about trying to exploit yr visiting tourists.

I'd opted to spend a couple of days somewhere updating the site and topping up the tan ahead of my date -- you know, the one I've mentioned for days without telling you anything about it. I chose Numana as a name on the map. Couldn't even find a bar with an electricity point, let alone wifi or internet access.

So yesterday was a wash out. And today, still fuming at general Italian crapness, I decided to leave the country. Although, given the fact my mystery date starts in Lucca tomorrow.. that's pretty much due west from here on the other side of the country.. I can't go too far. So.. I crossed the border into San Marino.

which isn't such a hard thing to do. San Marino is such an anomoly: an 'independent' country barely larger than the postage stamps which form a large part of its economy. Imagine! Your whole country's budget dependent on speccy stamp collectors!

It's a country one tenth the size, in area, of Braintree. It has very slightly more inhabitants than the Outer Hebrides.

It has its own national football team, mind.

It has a nice fairytale mountain, Monte Titano:

with a nice fairytale castle or two on top:

and more shops per square inhabitant than you'd think strictly necessary. Most of them selling replica guns and traditional Sammarinese Samurai swords. Thankfully, tons of tourists arrive every day to make sure the shopkeepers have something to do besides chop each others' heads off or stick stamps in their stamp albums:

Here are some Sammarinese traffic lights:

and some toytown soldiers. (I was lucky to get away with this. If they'd spotted me they might have tickled me with their feather dusters):

I feel the need to prove to you that San Marino is a legitimate stop on a trip besidetheseaside. Well, nearly. It has a lovely sea view:

though even I concede the view from the other side of the fairytale castle is even fairytale-r:

OK. But the truth is, San Marino is a strange little place. No reason for it to have survived for 1600 years. I suppose the fact that it's an enclave within Italy helps.. not a country that could claim to be terribly well organised, after all. Or organised at all.

It's a compete anachronism.

nb At first I wrote 'But it's a complete anachronism...'

And then I thought about it. And.. why not? If the good folks of San Marino don't want to be Italian, I'm the last person to blame them. They get the weather, the cuisine and the olive skin -- without the politics, the litter or the crowded beaches. Sure, they get lousy Italian pop music and even worse, they get Italian TV. But there's an 'off' switch.

The more I think about it, the more I'm loving it. Even the driving appears to be slightly less homicidal.

Also, quite seriously, San Marino has the Best Campsite In Europe (So Far). Cheap, online, friendly, spacious, well-maintained: recommended.

And a lovely view back to the three towers on top of Mount Titiano as the sun disappears for another night...

Beside the Seaside

In Which I Flounce Out Of Italy

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