Tami and I woke up fairly early the next morning to drive to the local market to pick up food for breakfast lunch and dinner. We saved a considerable amount of money doing so and after the decadent dinner from the previous night we were more than fine with a budget diet. Our day was busy but I took a few minutes to gaze out of our window at the beautiful day surrounding our astounding panorama. My coffee cup touched my lips, my eyes locked up the view, rolling hills covered in vineyards and olive trees in the foreground, small arching mountains in the back, and a clear blue sky above. The sereneness of the scene tasted like harmony and smelled of stillness. The only thing that could have yanked me from that coffee cup and window perch was the knowledge that I was going into all of it. We packed up the Panda with the days equipment: water bottles, cameras, and maps. Here I must pause and devote at least one short paragraph to the Joy-spring of our weekend, Pedro.
Sir Pedro has the air of a duke and truly he is he is the master of all that is Fattoria Fibbiano. Long, handsome, young with long golden hair and a slightly rotund waste line. If there is a more jubilant fellow in all of Tuscany I want to see him. Every time we left our door there was Pedro ready to greet us and inquire of our day. Master of his domain, absolute ruler of his estate and still he make time for us everyday. That’s the funny think about golden retrievers, they want nothing more than love and attention it does not matter if you are a stranger or a friend they are more than ready to make you the latter. I loved walking out of our door and seeing Pedro trot up to us, tail wagging, teeth flashing in a face filled smile. Oh my goodness how we doted over him! He might as well of been a duke. Four sets of hands clamoring to rub his ears and scratch is belly, a quartet of voices all cooing little pet names and complements. “Oh, you’re a good boy aren’t you? Yes, you are.” “You are looking a little fatter today Pedro! Did they give you extra bones? I bet they did, yes sir. Gooood boy Pedro.” He must have been in paradise and truly I know he became accustomed to the dotting because he would wait outside our window whenever we were in the apartment just so he could pounce on us as soon as we opened the door. He was my joy-spring for the weekend.
That first full morning in Tuscany’s Chianti region was spent exploring the rural backroads in the Panda and stopping at an ancient like 2,500 year old hill city named Volterra. That alone satisfied me for the day and I could have said goodbye to the day feeling more than happy. However, I did not and instead our afternoon was filled with the highlight of the weekend: horseback riding through the Tuscan countryside.
Finding our way to the horse farm was an adventure in itself. Our directions appeared vague at best and the narrow twisting mountain roads are not easily navigated by unfamiliar travelers. However, I want to be clear if I am going to be lost anywhere in the world, I certainly don’t hate being lost among tiny Italian hilltops cities, vineyards, and green pastures. I think my merry band would agree with me as well. We had the radio bumping Italian tracts, the windows down, and cameras snapping the whole way. We did however eventually find the horse farm and when I say farm I really genuinely mean it. This was no commercial operation but instead the home of Elizabeth and Mariano, neither Italian but both incredibly amiable. They had been expecting us so our horses were already saddled up and eager to get out of the stable. My stead was a large thick girl name Nikki. I soon realized she had more interest in stopping to nibble on grass and less in walking the miles through pastures, forests, and roads. We certainly had conflict of interests but I am happy to say I won out and together we had one of the fondest March afternoons I think I will ever have. Really the movie allusion does not do this justice. It was surreal. The best part was it was going to happen again the next day. With knowledge we left the farm biding our brief farewells with enthusiastic exclamations of “A domani!!” or See you tomorrow!
Giuseppe found us almost as soon as we had returned to Fattoria Fibbiano and asked us if we were ready for your wine tour and tasting. Naturally, we were besides ourselves and jumped at the moment. With more knowledge of the delicate art of wine production than I could hope to acquire in a three lifetimes, Giuseppe lead us on a tour of his massive wine vats, endless rows of stacked wooden barrels, and modern pressing machines. He concluded with an hour long tasting in the old cellar. I have written a completely separate piece on this so more details are revealed of this cultured tutorial in those pages. For now it is enough to say that the wine I tasted there is far and away the best I have ever had in my life and there were five different kinds. I doubt he knew it but Giuseppe had effectively placed a triumphant exclamation point at the end of one of the best days of my life.
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