Jane And Rog
LIFE MEMBER
AF Marina pulled alongside in Bari an hour late. As we approached Italy you could see a thick brown fug over the port.
Disembarking was slow. Customs was very tedious. As we had been tucked away on the lower deck, we were last off the boat. It was 10.30 before the animal import inspector waved us over to view Flynn’s papers.
After the complexity of getting him back into Spain from Morocco, we’d done a lot of research on the paper work needed. Even so, it wasn’t enough. The man gabbled away in Italian without really caring if we understood. “il certificato sierologico è buono ma ne serve uno di una settimana fa, preso in Albania…“ We tried Google Translate without success. Eventually he asked Jeremy if he could phone a friend.
“You don’t have a rabies certificate from an Albanian vet” came the helpful voice on the phone. We explained that his unbroken vaccination certificate and titre test proved he couldn’t have caught rabies and (pushing the truth a little) we hadn’t really been in Albania long enough to get a titre test. At this point Flynn spotted the police sniffer dogs and told them, very directly, that he was in charge here and they should back off. A casual observer might describe his communication style as “rabid”. He does try to help.
“But it’s the law, you must get this test. There is rabies in Albania,” the customs man continued.
Resigned, and fearing the worst, we asked what we should do. Back to Albania?
“He will let you through this time but next time, please go to an Albanian vet”.
We opened the car and on seeing Flynn the stern border guard changed demeanour. “Ciao bellezza,” he greeted Flynn, before asking his breed, scanning his microchip and wishing us a safe journey. Flynn reciprocated the warm greeting but omitted to wish him a good journey or scan his microchip in return.
Italy is blisteringly hot. The Garmin briefly displayed a message that it was “outside its operating temperature” then left us to navigate out of Bari using old fashioned signs. We stopped at a random Carrefour for supplies and whilst I shopped, Jane sat with the engine running and cab air con on as the outside temperature climbed to 38C.
After a couple of false starts, we ended up at the harbour in Porto Termoli (///informal.blondie.timeslot).
The site is lovely, tucked between a beach for Flynn to swim and the harbour with its bar for us to have a quick snifter before walking up to town for dinner.
Jane had found a Michelin recommended “local eat”. Trattoria L’Opera (///hipbone.focal.everyday). In a close repeat of yesterday’s farewell to Albania we ate raw seafood, pasta with raw prawns and the octopus (J) and squid (R). At €100 including wine it was great value - cheaper than a night out at our local at home.
Quality and service were up on Albania slightly, quantity was down so we snuck in a gelato on the way back to Denby.
It’s too hot to walk flynn somewhere he can’t swim even early in the morning so tomorrow we’ll be heading north/up as in to the mountains.
Disembarking was slow. Customs was very tedious. As we had been tucked away on the lower deck, we were last off the boat. It was 10.30 before the animal import inspector waved us over to view Flynn’s papers.
After the complexity of getting him back into Spain from Morocco, we’d done a lot of research on the paper work needed. Even so, it wasn’t enough. The man gabbled away in Italian without really caring if we understood. “il certificato sierologico è buono ma ne serve uno di una settimana fa, preso in Albania…“ We tried Google Translate without success. Eventually he asked Jeremy if he could phone a friend.
“You don’t have a rabies certificate from an Albanian vet” came the helpful voice on the phone. We explained that his unbroken vaccination certificate and titre test proved he couldn’t have caught rabies and (pushing the truth a little) we hadn’t really been in Albania long enough to get a titre test. At this point Flynn spotted the police sniffer dogs and told them, very directly, that he was in charge here and they should back off. A casual observer might describe his communication style as “rabid”. He does try to help.
“But it’s the law, you must get this test. There is rabies in Albania,” the customs man continued.
Resigned, and fearing the worst, we asked what we should do. Back to Albania?
“He will let you through this time but next time, please go to an Albanian vet”.
We opened the car and on seeing Flynn the stern border guard changed demeanour. “Ciao bellezza,” he greeted Flynn, before asking his breed, scanning his microchip and wishing us a safe journey. Flynn reciprocated the warm greeting but omitted to wish him a good journey or scan his microchip in return.
Italy is blisteringly hot. The Garmin briefly displayed a message that it was “outside its operating temperature” then left us to navigate out of Bari using old fashioned signs. We stopped at a random Carrefour for supplies and whilst I shopped, Jane sat with the engine running and cab air con on as the outside temperature climbed to 38C.
After a couple of false starts, we ended up at the harbour in Porto Termoli (///informal.blondie.timeslot).
The site is lovely, tucked between a beach for Flynn to swim and the harbour with its bar for us to have a quick snifter before walking up to town for dinner.
Jane had found a Michelin recommended “local eat”. Trattoria L’Opera (///hipbone.focal.everyday). In a close repeat of yesterday’s farewell to Albania we ate raw seafood, pasta with raw prawns and the octopus (J) and squid (R). At €100 including wine it was great value - cheaper than a night out at our local at home.
It’s too hot to walk flynn somewhere he can’t swim even early in the morning so tomorrow we’ll be heading north/up as in to the mountains.
Last edited: