(cont.) The next day Nathanael and I go out while our friend plays Day 1B. He ended up busting in the second level when his nut straight ran into runner-runner flush, but we're both in pretty good moods. I've gotten over my bust out. I'm happy if I am not cashing that I at least did it during day one so I have time to see Italia.

We walk up to conceirge and ask what we can see during a day trip. The man was very nice and ended up taking a map out and marking up a bunch of different cities. He shows us a couple cities we should stop by, and then tells us, "Do not take this road from the last city. Just go back the way you came."

We take the car we rented out and find a part of Italy that seems to be untouched, a city called Dolceaqua. The villa here stretches up a large hill, and atop it there is what seems to be a castle of some sorts. Before you enter the tiny village there are many cafes outside with Italians lazily chatting away the day. School age kids play tennis nearby. The narrow streets give out to a clearing, and we find a fountain in front of a very large Catholic church.

Nathanael and I climb up to the top of the villa, and come to the castle. It is closed, because apparently they only use it for special occasions, but being the safety-first geniuses we are we decide to hop a fence and crawl around the to the back, and hop another fence to get in.

The view from the top was truly breathtaking. You could see into mountains and hills miles away, a thin cloud over everything, and a bird's eye view of all of Dolceaqua. The castle looked like something out of movies or fantasy books. It truly was one of the more incredible things I'd seen while travelling the world.

Until I looked down and noticed a bunch of people pointing at us in the street. Uh oh. Time to ditch this place.

We took the car to another villa and walk around it too. This one seems even older than the last one where we were at. A few artiste-looking types lazily waffle down the roads. Take one turn and you come to a garden that is sheltered off from the rest of the world. Take another and you see an old-fashioned grocer, the kind who knows everybody's name and has to order his stock every morning still. Take another and you are in are in a old Italian restaurant, where all the vegetables and wines somehow taste a touch less diluted, an iota more earthly.

Coming back to San Remo my friend and I decide to take this lonely road through the mountains. It is not for a couple minutes that I remember the conceirage explicitly told us not to take this road. By that time though, for whatever reason, we decide to just keep going.

The further we go the more narrow it gets, till it gets to the point where there is no way we could pass another car coming toward us. The mountains of Italy stretch on forever, and seem to confine us as we keep going.

The guard rail runs out. Over the side of the road I can see hundreds of feet down. Every blind turn we comes to frays another nerve of mine.

Yet oddly, this is very fun to me. I feel lost in another world. Everything is so strange the further we get into the mountains. In a world where everything feels discovered travelling is the only thing that makes me feel somehow displaced. Instead of worrying though when I am out of sorts I am filled with a curious wonder. I want to see what's behind door number one. I want to see what is down the next road.

The sun goes down gradually, burning rivers of red and orange across the tips of mountains in the distance. We come to sleepy towns, with street lights that cast a shade between purple and orange on the empty streets. Dogs walk freely across the streets. The night croaks with sounds of animals I have never heard before in my life.

The street signs are few and our map doesn't help us. It gets darker, harder to see the roads. Headlights have never seemed so dim. We never see another car coming our direction. The locals are too smart to take this apparently abandoned road this late at night.

The lost feeling wells up in me. It as if we are being swallowed by the world around us. The road gets rougher. Yet Nathanael never budges. He seems to know exactly where we are, despite never having gone down this road before. He is kind of creepy yet reassuring when he is focused.

After hours of searching the roads finally start to become paved, guard rails pop up again, and we are greeted with a glorious view of San Remo.

* This is Part 4 of Assassinato's San Remo Trip Report. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Alex assassinato Fitzgerald is a professional poker player who specializes in multi-table tournaments. You can read more about Assassinato's adventures in the poker world by visiting his blog, www.assassinatopoker.blogspot.com. His online accomplishments include a win in the PokerStars $200 rebuy for $50k, along with a victory in the Full Tilt Poker $100 rebuy for another $22k. For more poker-related content from today's top online players, readers are encouraged to visit our Poker Articles section here at PocketFives.