Day 4 - Montalcino to Castello di Serravalle
(a.k.a "Niente parle Italiano?" or, "None of you speak Italian?")






We left our little apartment in Montalcino and drove north towards our next bed and breakfast in a little town called "Castello di Serravalle." If we had driven straight through, it would have taken us about 3-4 hours, but we stopped several times along the way to explore, so we didn't arrive here until about 7pm this evening.

In addition to the food and rest breaks, we went to the Carpineto winery, which sold a wine that was a favorite of Christy's parents. We were greeted at the door by a large German Shepherd who, in spite of multiple assurances by his owners that he was completely harmless, still had a formidable bark that kept me somewhat wary. We never got his name, but he followed us wherever we went and snoozed while we did our tasting.

One of the winery's owners greeted us, apologizing for his English (which was close to flawless) and the fact that his assistant who normally conducted the tastings was not available. He was an extremely gracious, elegant older man (think Cary Grant) who clearly loved the wine business. While it would have been very easy to turn us away, or quickly usher us in and out, he sat with us, opening at least 10 different bottles for us to try while explaining the processes involved in getting it to the States.

After about 20-30 minutes, he excused himself to greet other clients, telling us to try any of the bottles we liked, and to help ourselves. We tried everything he offered and found several types that appealed to us. Yet again, we added more bottles to the collection...some of which were coming home as gifts, and others would undoubtedly be consumed in the next few days.

While we were waiting for our purchases to be rung up, I found a brochure for a local resort that looked simply spectacular in the photos. Since we weren't in a real hurry and it was on the way to the autostrada, we decided to take a side trip and see it.

Before leaving, we took a bunch of photos of us holding wine out in front of the Carpineto gate sign to show we were there. I haven't been much of a wine drinker, but I'm really learning to like just about everything I have tried so far. I don't know if I'm at a point where I could distinguish one from the other, but I still enjoy tasting it. :)

On our way back to the car there were some grape vines growing adjacent to the parking lot that still had a few grapes left on them. We tasted them (yummy) and used the grapes to toast another successful side trip.

A lady at the winery gave us directions to the resort, Villa La Palagina and assured us that it was still open in the off-season. Apparently it's in a high-rent area, with the musician Sting's villa close-by.

We found it with little trouble, and the photos didn't do it justice. I cannot wait to get these photos up on the website. The resort was a convent in the 1400's (?) and has a panoramic view of Tuscany, with two giant infinity pools. It was amazing.

The website is here: Villa La Palagina

The front desk clerk gave us a full tour, even taking us upstairs to see some sample rooms. Every room is decorated differently, but have all of the amenities. There are also apartments on the property. I looked up the cost to stay there, and it's really inexpensive. 90 Euro...about 115 per night? That place is definitely on my list of places to stay when I come back here.

From there it was on to our next bed and breakfast in Castello di Serravalle. That part of the trip proved to be more challenging. The skies opened up and started pouring rain not too long after we got on the autostrata, and with added traffic, it was very slow going.

We had originally told the b&b's owner that we were going to be there at 5pm...which we quickly learned was not going to happen. Michelle called them and told them we would be late, but with a sketchy connection and a language barrier, we weren't sure that translated.

It was well past dark when we got off the autostrada and started making our way to town. The last mile was by far the toughest. (And I say that merely as a passenger who can't read maps in a moving car. Michelle, PJ and Christy did an amazing job of getting us around) Our b&b was in a villa at the very top of a hill, and to get there, you had to travel on a single-lane, barely paved steep narrow winding road with absolutely no room for error. Add driving rain and fog to the picture, and you can understand why we all white-knuckled it the entire way.

This experience was just like something out of a horror movie. Four friends on a dream vacation heading to a big spooky house on a hill in the middle of a rainstorm. I was never so happy to get to the top and see that we had in fact been going the right direction.

Since it's dark and rainy, I can't say much about what's outside, but inside looks like something out of a Better Homes and Garden magazine. Everything is rustic, but exquisitely decorated and very comfortable.

We pulled into the courtyard of the villa where we were greeted by Andra and Mauro, the owners of the villa, called "La Buca." ("The Hole" - and I have no clue how it got that name) Mauro is probably in his mid-late 50's, and Andra is in her 40's. We got inside from the rain as quickly as possible and introduced ourselves. Andra shook our hands, smiling, and rattled off a long string of greetings in Italian. When she saw our puzzled faces she said, "Niente parle Italiano?" which translates into "None of you speak Italian?" I shook my head and said, "un piccolo" ("A little") She could not have been more gracious, but you could tell that both of us were a little dismayed that communication was going to be a challenge for the next few days.

The only one who spoke any English was Frederica, their 20-something daughter. While she too was more than nice and did her best to help us, I got the vibe that she was less than amused at her parents serving her up as the family translator.

Since breakfast comes with our stay, Andra asked us what time we would be getting up. We have tours scheduled early tomorrow morning, so we asked if we could get breakfast at 6:30am. Much like when we told her we didn't speak English, she registered a quick shudder of dismay and then smiled and indicated that would not be a problem. As a long avowed night owl, I wasn't any more excited than she was, but we assured her that we would not get up so early the next two mornings.

But it wasn't long before we were settled and looking for a place to eat. Through Frederica we were directed to a pizza restaurant in town. That was fine by us. At that point in the day a boiled phone book sounded good. By this time the rain had let up a little bit, so the prospect of braving the hillside road was a little less daunting.

A quick dinner in town and we were soon back at La Buca in our jammies listening to the rain by the fireplace. I was exhausted and headed almost immediately to bed, but the others stayed downstairs with Andra and Mauro for a round of wine and lemoncello. And not too long after that, we were all in bed by about 9:30pm

Just before 10:00pm, Michelle sat upright in bed, realizing that she had left her purse with her passport back at the restaurant. She and PJ dressed quickly, and Mauro kindly offered to drive them back to the restaurant in his far more mud and rain-worthy SUV. (and I'm sure he was somewhat concerned about his new guests having wine and then trying to brave that road in bad weather) But the passport was retrieved and everyone was back in bed before we knew it.

Tomorrow morning we're headed out for tours of a parmesan cheese and a balsamic vinegar factory. Michelle is a gourmand and assures us it will be lots of fun. I have my doubts, but that's largely due to the thought of dragging myself out of bed before dawn. I'm sure it will be great when we get there. :)

Talk to you tomorrow,

K