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Home Decor. Jigsaw Puzzles. Wall Art. Montecatini, c. It is the most important center in Valdinievole. The town is located at the eastern end of Piana di Lucca and has a strong vocation for tourism, as well as industrial and commercial industries related to the spa, which in turn has increased the interest for hotel accommodation in the region. Instagram Image. Post a Comment. There are no comments for Montecatini, c. Click here to post the first comment. Baltimore, MD United States. Units: Inches Inches Centimeters. Privacy Policy. Sign up for my e-mail list. Search Type Keyword. Greeting Cards Spiral Notebooks Stickers. Comment: Like This Image. Add to Favorites. Description Montecatini, c. Share Instagram Image. Tags tree travel poster landscape fountain bird bath. Similar Images. Comments Post a Comment. Recently Viewed. Stay Connected Sign up for my e-mail list.

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You leave a couple of politicians in charge of the magical lantern and suddenly they are projecting all sorts of frightening images onto the wall, playing with our imagination, fuelling our fears, creating a farrago, until in their frenzy to outdo each other, they knock the magic lantern over and then scarper, blaming each other for burning the theatre down. The Italians have opera, which is their theatre drawn from real life, the Japanese; Kabuki with their exotic make-up, masks and songs, the Mexicans have their wrestling with its exotic make-up, masks and songs, just ask Donald; and the Welsh have Gareth Bale. Apparently we have our country back? Long, lazy days of doing sweet FA, not unlike our premiership superstars. Drinking cider in the parks, fighting like the Inter City Firm, no grudge too small, no boots too big, all in the days before love and ecstasy. I think it ran on coal, and the suspension was made out of elastic bands. Quiet, anybody who thinks they know better! I am fascinated to see how nasty politics has become. Perhaps they have been trapped in the underworld for a very long time with Perseus, drinking absinthe and caustic soda, watching endless repeats of Eastenders. Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment, as if the garment was stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out. Now, is not the time for politicians to enter into philosophical discussion, it is time to run. The masses now have pitchforks and the politicians are looking a lot like Wicker Men. I will not be staying in the new rural hotel bocadilloed between the club DC10 and the airport. I supposed you might say. The best set I have ever witnessed, below are a couple of photos. It finished very late! As it did every night, and I will admit to falling asleep for 20 minutes at the bar, Itaxa at 6. The eighty year old lady, who owns it, gave me a tea towel for a pillow! We visited a bar called Exis owned by Birgit a German friend and she has a wall covered in photos of clients over the years. It was a poignant reminder of losing my dear friend Richard, 5 years ago, and how many of the faces that stare out from these photos are still with us? We enjoyed the usual birthday celebrations on Formentera, and after 6 litres of vodka, this spider saw a fly and the hypnotic spray from the wake of the boat sped us from one paradise to another. June is easily the best month in Ibiza, the sea not too crowded, nor the restaurants or bars, people are still calm. This may be the final straw, and why I may never go again. I also re-iterate, this is not me. It is so wrong on so many levels and in what world does this person think this looks acceptable. Lastly a sunset, because we have been bereft of suns a setting, lords a leaping, seven swans a swimming, I have been lucky with the ladies dancing, but one makes ones own luck? Unless you are sharing a table in a restaurant; some will know this story, the rest can only guess at how I might have been transformed! And a Jakeism to end — Christmas is now closer than the last New Year. Joy, thy name is Time! Yes I do have an admirer. Apparently in my apricot cashmere sweater I look like Tilda Swinton in the aforementioned film!!! Are you blind? If you are not interested in football, go off and make a cup of green tea now. Woe betide anyone who ventures across my path, Zoro has my back. Poor little Sepp appeared for his press conference sporting what could have been a duelling scar, or a souvenir from Saint Nick who takes no prisoners with the bad boys this time of year. No one slaps me on the cheek with a white kid glove and gets away with it! Player power seems to be putting an end to managerial careers here, there and everywhere. Jose, poor Jose, and Luis Van Gaal, both appear to be suffering or have suffered from this ague. To give you a special insight into the everyday struggles in their world I managed to sneak into the Chelsea dressing room, and the Manchester United car park to see what has been going on. Then there is the referee Howard Webb, who said that there were fewer poor decisions made by referees on Boxing Day because they were chauffeured to their games. So not having to make a decision whether to turn left or right on their way to the game meant they were less stressed and improved their performance. Now we need to spare a thought for young Luke Jake. I have been circumnavigating the globe, Florence, Bologna and Hong Kong, in a week. So Sam, dry your eyes I now have enough miles for a free latte in Waitrose. It was short, intense and fun. I would like to thank everyone at The Landmark Mandarin Oriental for their magnificent hospitality and incredible levels of service, which all made it a very enjoyable and successful trip. Apologies to anybody who got a scarf for Christmas, that was way off. Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and caldron bubble…. Back to the Premiership I see. As you all wonder how these get written, here is a further insight into my wonderful world. I will also regularly post photographs of what I am wearing, or not, to bore you. So I was a guinea pig. No not in a previous life, however that would make a change from being an Egyptian Princess. I would settle for having been human. Anyway, back to the guinea pig thing. So I emailed Jayne and begged. I explained that if I could come for dinner as a guinea pig, the gaping void left in my life by being left out of the trials for Viagra would be filled, once again I could hold my head up in public again. Oh, the shamen of it. No such problems at The Colony Grill. The Beaumont Hotel is beautiful, the bar; dare I say, sexy? The restaurant and food were everything you would expect from Chris and Jeremy. On hand to enhance the experience were Robert, Jason, Daniele and the fantastic Shirley. She is a little older than my mum, but a similar breed. So back to those trials again! United sold Danny Welbeck to Arsenal or Wolves are doing so well? All Rights Reserved. So today was one of those rare ornithological moments. Traitor, I hear you all shout in unison. Ever with my binoculars at the ready, spotted in full flight this morning, in its natural surroundings, the lesser spotted Jason. So often now it seems to prefer a more secluded office environment, but Marie and I were treated to a brief view of his immaculate feathers in The Wolseley. Michael is moving back home. After several months living away from his toaster, he is returning. Fresh Prince of Bel Air, with a new roof terrace, once again his neighbours can be treated to the kind of antics that would make Caligula blush. Feed me another grape please. Please note, Michael has been dieting and working out for his next performance. Yes I know, not highly enough I hear some or all of you say. My weekend was taken up once again with preparing the VAT. Oh yawn, but I did go and see Iron Man 3 in 3D. Inside us all, there is a thespian trying to get out. It looks like he will need something to distract him from the ignominy of League One football. I know that many of you like to strike up a conversation with him about football. David has broken out the shorts. Eventually the warm weather will get here and we can all warm our tired, old bones. I can turn that particular shade of orange that I always go. Let the summer be long, sunny and hot, like the shorts you all should be wearing. Wear driving shoes in town and save the flip-flops for the beach or the park. He was happy with his blue cashmere over shirt. Sunil, you live in the Middle East, why? Exactly, there is a little madness in us all. But there is also always some reason in madness. I could crush a grape! Stop pouring Vash. Looks like there is another book about me doing the rounds. Tick — tock, tick — tock. Ever the optimist I will wait for the sequel, it will be quite a challenge to improve on the last one, and I think most of the character development of those involved in the original has been exhausted. So as Tim Robbins said, perhaps I should write two news letters a week. The book will easily transfer to a film. As always Tom Cruise will be aching to play me, but I will have to choose carefully. Perhaps this time, a gritty British actor, I see endless possibilities ahead. Gerard Butler almost has the body, but that inpenetr… accent of his, means that whatever I try to get across in my strange written style will be further lost by his delivery. Or Jason Statham, who comes close, but is always after my ideas for his next suit. I could choose Brando, but then the resemblance would be uncanny, and I love ice cream, especially the dark chocolate one, called Fondente from La Carraia in Florence. Oh, how I miss that. Versions of the screenplay will appear, but it should have been written by Harold Pinter, sadly he is on a rather long pause; the music by? And sadly Richard is no longer around to critique it. How I miss our chats together. He would have constantly corrected my grammar, but I would never have minded. Not like last time, when 6 hours in Lycra hot pants meant they took an age to heal. The dog days of summer will soon be with us. Already people are casting off their winter shells, hibernation is over. The cast that has been attacking your cashmere has become a moth, and fluttered off to lay its eggs and destroy another garment. An exasperated customer told me recently that she had lost so much cashmere to moths, that she was going with her kids to the Butterfly House at Syon Park, to allow them to exact their own form of revenge! That said we should go back to La Carraia. My life is not a pantomime no matter what you think. Well I did have to eat my way out. No really it would be rude to insult their intelligence. I preferred to bath in the rich cool chocolatiness of Fondente. Attached is a photo. Yes I know there is another flavour, it is Fior di Panna. There were photos of me in the bath, but I wanted you to read to the end of this, rather than swoon at this point, so they were omitted. Well OK, up something, but once again we must be sympathetic to spam filters, theirs is a joyless existence. Stopping this, restricting that, what has the world come to! My friends can post photos of themselves snorkelling without clothes in the alpine snow. The little green light at the bottom of the bottle said, go, go, go. And so I did. Eugene and Ina are back in Copenhagen. If you are ever there and are looking for a coffee, his is the place to go. We will reminisce, swap stories and then start the party all over again. Hopefully this time with a full compliment. Real life continues no matter what fantasies I create for myself. Last weekend I went to see Oblivion, just to see if TC was up to playing me. Apparently it was shot in Iceland. The scenery was breath-taking, so I will be booking a trip to see the aurora borealis, be TC and eat whale blubber, any takers? Eventually even I have to stop tapping the keyboard, but I do have to mention Jake. As many of you who follow football have sympathised with him, he is now sobbing gently under the stairs, when the mighty Wolves are meekly heading for oblivion. This is my mouthpiece to the world. Somewhere, where you can glean the most intimate details of my life, and OK, that of some of my mates, but I must admit I did have fun with this one. Mark, thanks for the ones of you. How they got through the spam filter, I will never know. And Michael, the ones of your children were a pleasant surprise. I spent Chinese New Year with Wolf. You know me, always looking for the opportunity to take it off. Congratulations to Al and Victoria. They are getting married in June. I had an NHS health check. However the nurse did ask me to take my shirt off. A visit to Bologna to see Emanuele and 3am finish for dinner. There is a photo where Emanuele has made the island of Sardinia out of a drop of wine; we then proceeded to drink the island dry. Then a short stop in Florence before Rome. I felt like a UN observer, there to oversee the elections, to make sure that all was fair and above board. Emanuele created Sardinia from a drop of wine. That should upset Sig. Oh baby, shower me with euros! Then there is Ill Papa Sic. That should sort them out at the back, and the balcony speeches should be a little more robust and dramatic, perhaps even a little swooning from some of the ladies at the front. I did learn a couple of new words. It has been suggested that I write a book about my colourful life. I would of course need to make huge chunks of it up. The book would require a beginning, a middle and an end, not to mention a story; a sub plot, a twist or two and a little Machiavele. Then a character or eight, mine are like a bag of snakes. Then you have to develop them. Like Chaucer, these characters can live an eternity in print, every boil, pimple and carbuncle. O dio, be still my beating heart. Recently I have been breakfasting with Marie. She is great fun, and Jason always smiles, perhaps slightly jealous at the company I keep. You see, I really am shallow. Sorry, I had to think about that. I head to Covent Garden Market and listen to the opera singers, sing various arias. Some are fantastic, but I struggle to understand why others attempt some pieces at all. However there is always a CD to buy if you want to be reminded which particular cat they were strangling. I was there last weekend, and in the main square there was a large steel heart and LOVE spelt out in large letters. It belonged to the British Heart Foundation, and padlocked to the heart and each letter were thousands of tiny metal hearts, each with its own message of love written by people from all over the world. I spent an age reading them, and I found it incredibly uplifting that love could be expressed in so many simple, but beautiful ways. There was one among you who was worried about the functionality of my heart. Well after my check up, I am pleased to say that everything is working properly; there was no need to worry. Thank you one and all for your kind words regarding my Oscar. It was for best supporting actor in a foreign film. Jake will hate that one. Anyone want to buy a t-shirt? I will now leave this subject alone. We live in a world of our own making. Along the way we make mistakes, ma speriamo che non finisca male per nessuno. A little good news for the end of last year, Eugenia married Ricardo, and they have returned to married bliss in Nicaragua. Gen, I hope you did a background check on the young man. For those of you reading this via the blog page on the website, you will be able to see a photo of the lovely couple. Anyway, as you remember Eugenia is the young lady that I was able to pick up by her ears! But, Gen is best known for her affinity with animals, she brings out the best of them. Many when in close proximity to her have decided they can have a little nibble. The monkey must have been on something It was of course in Nicaragua , it sneezed and after opening its eyes, spied the innocent Eugenia. At this point it launched into a manic assault in that flappy, kind of ineffectual kind way that some creatures do. Realising that Eugenia was a bit of veteran to this kind of thing, it then bit her on the leg. All of this was captured on camera and is available on Youtube if you know where to look. She offered to show me the bite, but I am a timid soul and declined. Ricardo did tell me that on the honeymoon, an elephant started to take an interest in her, but then she did that thing that she does with her hair, and seeing a relative, it went serenely on its way. Talking of animal confrontations, my mother who lives on a hillside in Somerset was walking in the woods just before Christmas, when she was startled by a squirrel. In the ensuing melee she fell and broke her right arm. If not she would have dispatched the squirrel with her white stick. Congratulations to Sam on your promotion. The new position includes a private jet in the air 24 hours a day, days a year circling above his current location in order to whisk of him to the other side of the world for a 15 minute face to face meeting. When does living the dream turn into a nightmare? I returned to the shop on the 27th to find Mark curled up asleep outside the front door, thumb gently lodged in his mouth. Christmas had turned into a bit of a bender. He is the only person I know who sobers up the more he drinks! Son, you could be rich, rich, rich. Why, you might ask? Well I hid under the bed for a few days. So there it is. I stayed there until the effects of the hallucinogens had worn off. I missed Christmas and all the trimmings. Oh, the ignominy. We have only 24 hours to save the world. How many times must we cry wolf, before we are all eaten? When close to the edge, I always feel like jumping. Please hasten in the New Year when all will be serene, and I will feel less like a lemming. On this beach they have a strict dress code. He has threatened to thwart the dress code; Speedos are banned, but he has been honing his entire physique for a moment like this, and woe be tide anyone who stands in his way. It reminds of the joke about making a horse laugh. You can look it up if you want? Those of you I have seen this year, or spoken too, or emailed, thank you. Also those of you, who have commented positively on ramblings, thank you. Those of you who were less than complimentary, also, thank you. I was glad I could get under your skin. Normally I would make a list of all the resolutions you have imparted to me, but this year I think I will wait until the end of January when so many will be covered in glorious failure, and I can selfishly recount each one writ large in the newsletter. Whatever your resolutions will be I wish you luck with them. I only have my best interests at heart. Remember I have a newsletter to fill. So whatever wagon you fall off of, makes sure it is large and fast moving, in this way you are guaranteed a mention. For those of you want to save the world. Perhaps follow a little advice offered to Bono at a concert. Whilst on stage he proclaimed that every time he clapped his hands a child in Africa died. A helpful fellow in the audience suggested in slightly more vulgar terms, that he should stop clapping. Thank you for that one Darren. So wherever you are spending the New Year, I hope you will have a wonderful time, and I hope that next year allows me to continue to follow this ideal. Firstly, as you know the newsletter is available through the website, and now has the benefit of having photos to accompany some of the stories. As we progress these will be back-dated over the years. Yes, those of you that doubted me, the newsletter will soon have been running for two years. Currently outside it is cold, cold, cold, and my hands are hovering above the keyboard numb and unresponsive. Like a Saturday morning, after Friday night with Vash. Partners and wives, I have been told will be much happier, although some of the facial topiary has been spectacular. I will of course revert from being a wolf man, as after every full moon to my primped, preened and polished normality. Ramone specifically has complained that he will have to use the clippers before applying the wax. Careful man! Talking of handlebars, I have purchased a bicycle. I do of course value my knees, which when using a fixie, is the only way of stopping. Yes, by peddling backwards! Oh, forget it! Thank you, those of you who have made suggestions of what I should buy, and David especially. He has always been quick to point out where I might go wrong! But the main reason for buying a bicycle was to get into fluorescent lycra again. As I no longer ski, or club regularly, it is the only way I can legitimately wear lycra in public without being arrested, well as long as I am on the bike. Remember the mankini? A friend is a little nervous about his first mention in the newsletter, but not as nervous as he was when he met Neil for the first time. Neil looked him over like a blank canvas tattoo needle at the ready, poised to tattoo the Sistine Chapel. So, yesterday he qualified this statement by saying that his new home will only be 4 miles from the office, rather than the current 6. As he is pretty fit, he could perhaps push it to and from work every day. Given the reliability of the bike, and the opportunity to keep fit, I think this is possibly a win-win scenario. He is also the only person I know that can out techie Jake when it comes down to pistols at dawn over their iphone 5s. The UK economy, like many in Europe is now under the control of a former Goldman Sachs employee, and a Canadian to boot. Not that I have anything against either, but it looks that Europe may be turned into a very large investment bank. You mean it is already. Apparently a former GS cleaner is being lined up for a job in the Italian Finance Ministry, she by all accounts a bit of a stunner. Peace will return, imported from Nepal, no expense spared back to Ibiza. The photos he sent me were spectacular. Like many of us he is a tad vain, but on this occasion his is amazed by the reaction of people staring at him as if he had a new found celebrity status. Just to make sure he gazed down to ensure that he was still wearing his swimming shorts, such was the response. Here the response was the same, so my friend asks his wife if she has noticed anything about his new found magnetism. She replies straight faced, that apart from a missing lens in his sunglasses he looked no different. Well excuse me, I was trying, not that you thought so. So I will continue to blindly stab at the keys on my now ancient ipad. However to avert total blindness I have resorted to wearing spectacles, because that is what they are. Most people have been quite complimentary about them, but little did you know they have an x-ray vision mode. Saturday afternoons are amongst my favourite moments in the shop. Normally I have Darren and Michael around for company. Darren knows as much about clothing as anyone I know, and Michael, well Michael is Michael. His favourite scent as you now know is Auld Wood sic. Try and banish that thought from your memory, but the multi-coloured toe nails and tattoos always provoke a comment or two in the gym. As you can see my coterie of waxers and polishers are once again dutifully employed. Michael is going to have to move out of his house for nine months, after being flooded by a neighbour. The flooding was so severe that they are going to have to rip out the concrete floors, because the water has penetrated the under floor heating system, turning the whole house into a giant toaster. Neil has been and gone. He came to arrange his visa for India and get drunk with me. Once again he is off to sit atop a mountain and gaze upon the setting sun, perhaps after trying a natural herbal remedy it might resemble the setting sun. Take some more remedy Neil, the effect is wearing off. Italy is now jailing anybody who has predicted anything. As we know the results of Italian football matches are predicted weeks in advance, giving you plenty of time to get a bet on. Oh, sorry they have done that already. This weekend I saw the first snow of the winter. I was at Montesenario, a convent on a hilltop just outside Florence. In the summer it can be a little crowded because of the beautiful views over all of Tuscany. On days like Sunday it is deserted and there is a strange, eerie silence when the clouds are low and the rain has turned to snow. However there is a cafe to stop, take respite from the weather and enjoy a glass of wine. In order to control nature, one must first learn to obey it. As yet I am no Umberto Eco, as some of you have pointed out. Recently when I have returned from Florence, I have been smuggling in various Neapolitan tarts, supplied by Rita, and one or two of you who live locally have been very keen to sample them, along with an espresso with a little something in it, perhaps a Grappa or Sambuca. Close to Florence there is a town called Montecatini-Terme, and it has a certain reputation, where you can also relax and sample tarts of all descriptions. If you are reading this the day after I sent it, then today is my birthday. It is a national holiday in many countries, how thoughtful of them. I am beyond celebrating them. They are just a reminder of how well I misspent my youth. How I would love to go back and take that callow youth to one side and explain to him that it will all be OK in the end, and that you should never really worry about what other people think, be yourself, enjoy your life to the full. So who else is coming? Once again I am asked how I come up with these phantasmagorical tales. Well let me tell you. I think we drew the short straw. How the nostalgia seeps up through cracks in the pavement, and it will, but we have moved on. The Wall. Brace yourself. Io Sono Amore, I am Love. An admirer sent me a film for Christmas. Stretford End? Hong Kong. In fact neither of those, I just wanted to use that title. So a few little bits of prose, before the photos. It is National Poetry Day. Could be anyone! Blue Gilet. Brown Gilet. Camouflage Gilet. Grey Gilet. Light Grey Gilet. Nylon ID Jacket. Except the truth is always blurred, and Michael is a delightful fellow. At last the truth is beginning to surface. For those of you who have had a cold, bless you, gesundheit, tomorrow is the first of March. Ricardo and Eugenia….. I could give you all sorts of excuses. But, the truth is that I have only just surfaced. Siena Sunset. Finally someone got there, but we will return to this rich vein. Dimme tutto cara. Well I think that had a bit everything, humour, self-pity, philosophy and pathos. Oh, and I forgot a little Jimmy Savile, thank goodness, he never fixed it for me. Loading Comments Email Required Name Required Website.

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