Urbino to Sirolo

11/06, Wednesday

Time to head off on a recon mission to prepare the ground, so to speak, for Christine's arrival. She flies into Ancona on Friday and we want to have enough time to check out suitable campsites around Sirolo; a small medieval town at the foot of Monte Conero, 20kms south of Ancona.

The guide mentions 2 sites, one of which we try out first: Camping Green Garden. After a quick look around we actually check in, because I insist although Bre is sensible and wants to see the other site first. If only I listened to her:

• The guide book states 'al mare'. At the reception we find out you can get a bus to the beach.
• The guide book says the site has a little supermarket. There is an empty concrete shell signed Minimarket.
• The guide book mentions washing machines. There are none.
• The guide book lists internet access. The only thing remotely new media is the @ sign in the bar's name. The bar is closed in the evenings.
• There are two showerblocks. One of them is closed. The other one is occupied by workmen from 7.30 in the morning.
• We're backing onto the 'second' swimming pool, we think. It's actually the pool and bar of the adjoining smaller campsite which advertises itself as music venue.

We meet an older English couple though who had just been in Greece where they sold their 33 foot yacht and bought a caravan instead which is of course completely overloaded because all the stuff from the yacht is in there and they thought they wouldn't make some of the steeper hills and at their last campsite she had to rescue a jackdaw baby that kept falling out of its nest and she tried to put it back but it kept falling so she wrapped it in some kitchen roll and killed flies with the fly swat and fed them to the poor little thing but the next day it was dead such as shame but he stayed overnight in Greece in the car park of the ferry terminal and all those nifty Albanians rolled under the vans and caravans and stole everything even when it was screwed on and he isn't saying all Albanians were bad but he wouldn't go there only if they'd build a motorway up to Croatia maybe because you'd save the time spent on the ferry but then they had been up and down the Italian adriatic coast and everywhere is the same all sold out really and you just can't trust these Italians, can you.

When we check out the next day the guys at reception don't even ask why we don't stay the whole week. I guess they know.