This trip is going to be a flurry of activity, as we prepare our Tuscan homes for the spring. We have several rentals booked in both Casi di Sotto and Casa in Volpaia, and scheduled inspection tours for potential shared owners.
Arrival in Firenze in early April to beautiful clear skies. Driving south to Chianti, I notice that the flora is much the same as in Portland. Fruit trees are just beginning to bloom, and although not prevalent, the occasional splash of yellow forsythia is a welcome sight. The oak trees are still bare of leaves, but climbing ivy provides enough green to satisfy my senses. The fields are green as well, and the ever-present Italian birds are singing up a storm.
My car this time is a little Lancia 5-door, and although it is not a great handling beast, it has clearance, is small and maneuverable, and doesn't shake too much on the highway. Thank you Hertz, for always having what I need!
Hungry and knowing that I will need to stay awake, I stop in La Piazza at Osteria alla Piazza (www.osteriaallapiazza.com), which always seems like a welcoming ritual. A bit too chilly to sit outside, I settle at a window table with a view of the vineyard.
As one of only 5 clients for lunch, I am amazed by the difference between the out-and-out professionalism here versus the viral apathy in the restaurant business in the U.S. This place is fully open for business, even though faced with the probability that their lunch crowd has maxed out. You have to be on your toes in a "foodie" culture and tourist destination like Italy. Flowers in pots adorn a patio not quite warm enough yet. The full menu is offered, but with an interesting variety of cold prep specials. Deciding to order one of these, I have sliced duck breast on fresh fennel slices. It was incredible.
I feel fortified enough to visit my bank in Castellina on the way to the house. As I walk up to the door, at precisely 3:34pm, the door is locked. Closed at 3:30pm? It can't be. My banker, Claudio, is visible through the window, and I wave. He walks over to the door and points at the sign with the operating hours, mouthing at me to come back tomorrow. Instead of being peeved (well, okay, I am a bit put out), I resolve to be reincarnated as an Italian banker. I swear, they work about 3 hours per day. And that is not counting days prior to a holiday, when it may be 1 hour.
Stopping first at the Coop for bottled water, a bit of cheese, and some salume, I arrive in Volpaia in time for the social hour. Gina and Lina are talking outside of the bar. I wave, get two big smiles, and drive to the house to unload. Then I hightail it back to the piazza to sit with Oriano and complain about the bankers. He tells me that until today, the weather has been "bruto"…with hailstones the day prior as big as "footballs". Right:)
Today is crisp, clear and gorgeous, and I'm back.
Ciao for now!
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