Another sunny morning! From the site at Frejus it's only two miles to the autoroute.
Traffic is light as we climb into the hills, getting a bit busier as we pass the town intersections; Cannes, Monaco, Menton. Haze prevents us seeing much out to sea but we get good views down to Menton.
The first four toll stations come quickly and take small amounts with no tickets. The next issues a ticket and signals the start of the Italian Autostrada which will take us nearly all the way to Santa Margherita Ligure.
There are a few tunnels, then the Italie sign and we're in a different country. Although the border is only a line on a map, it's amazing how suddenly the scenery changes. The hillsides are precariously steep yet they've managed to build vast areas of greenhouses for fruit growing. Rock walls form terraces for olive trees and smal houses cling to the cliffs. Down in the clefts there are more tiny hamlets and orchards.
These views are far better than the insides of the many, many tunnels we have to go through. The Italian Autostradas are well surfaced but there are no shoulders. Trucks build into long convoys where they are not allowed to overtake.
Crossing Genoa we see ships leaving the huge container port with its massive cranes dominating the skyline.
After about 160 miles of toll roads we slow into the exit at Santa Margherita Ligure. The long section from Menton costs €25.90, added to the €13.00 in France makes it reasonable considering it would be two or even three days to comfortably do the journey all along the coast.
The roads through Santa Margherita Ligure are narrow, especially after the motorway but we squeeze through and find the camperstop easily, parking at 15:20.
We decamp and head back into town just over a mile's walk.
The first thing we notice is all the bas-relief on the buildings; plain walls panted pink or green with cream columns, cornerstones and windowframes painted to look like carved stone. Other have shutters and art-nouveau designs.
Veg shops, trattorias and delicatessans fill the main street, as well as cafe terraces laid out under parasols. A chocolate shop, done up for easter, has one egg the size of a spacehopper in its window.
Down on the seafront, palm trees and statues stand opposite the classical and baroque hotel buildings, again all painted in greens and deep pinks with cream accents [a style we learn is called Liberty Facades]. We wander around the harbour, a mixture of pleasure boats, fishing craft and toys for the financially untroubled. Small Piaggio pick-ups wait to be loaded with the fish and langoustines being landed.
A sunny terrace at the Tortuga [tortoise] bar looks good so we sit and order a beer each and ask if they do any snacks. Tomato and mozarella with focaccia bread sounds alright. We should have waited. When the beer comes so does a tray of antipasta; crisps, olives,carrott sticks and dips and little pieces of omlette and pancetta sandwiches. We do it all justice taking our time nibbling, sipping and watching the promenaders coming out for the evening in their casusal finery - even the municipal policewoman struts like a fashion model.
Afterwards we return past the little castle, along the beach and back into town before heading back to the van.