Filling in time around Tuscany

Filling in time around Tuscany

The morning after the judging finished we boarded a coach, or Pullman as they known in Italy. There were only 33 of us, I don’t know where the remainder of the journalists had gone but they missed the trip of a lifetime - a real comedy. It was so bad that it was good.

Our first stop was Montespertoli, a small town in the heart of the Chianti area. It was Sunday and traffic was light when we left but soon it got busy with families taking to the road for a day out.

As we approached the piazza in Montespertoli we saw a lot of people just hanging around. All dressed in their Sunday best they appeared to be waiting for something, we surmised it was a wedding but no, it was us – 33 weary and very casually dressed journalists.

The coach pulled up outside the municipio (town hall) and we were invited to meet the major (mayor – a word commonly mispronounced by Italians who don’t use the letter ‘y’).

We trooped upstairs to his office and saw that a magnificent morning tea was laid out for us, however, we would be expected to wave to the crowd waiting patiently in the square. Like the royal family, we stood in little groups taking turns to wave as the people below clapped, I don’t know whether they knew who we were or how the ‘major’ had got everyone there but it was really a surreal start to a eventful trip.

After a tour of a couple of wineries  we were taken to where we would be staying. We had been told it was a beautiful religious retreat with lovely grounds with beautiful gardens. As we drove up the imposing driveway, we could think of nothing else except dinner and then bed, it had been a long day. Little did we know we would have to go through a big explosion of emotions before that would happen.

At the retreat we lined up with our passports and were given our rooms. I was in a room in the basement along with a Japanese lady. We headed off to unpack leaving everyone else to settle in before we returned for the short trip into town where we would have a ‘typical meal’ before returning and settling in for the night.

Our rooms downstairs were very utilitarian - no pillow cases, no sheets, wire bunk beds and one lamp with a dodgy bulb - but after five days of luxury - judging wines  while staying at the luxurious  Bagnoli Group Due Torre Hotel, I was prepared to put up with conditions for a night. I however, was alone with that thought!

I came upstairs to a banshee screaming and several men shouting in different languages at our poor guide Gilda, voices were raised and no one was happy. “We are not going to stay here”, “We are important journalists” and “What is this place it looks like a prison”. Poor Gilda the guide didn’t know how to cope, she had been given this job because she could speak four languages, her normal job was as an ‘international hostess’ at Vinitaly translating for visitors needing help.

Fortunately things quietened down, like the aftermath of every explosion there is a period of peace and quiet while the dust settles. Taking advantage of this she quickly called the ‘major’ and explained we were revolting (in both senses of the word) and refusing to stay.

The ‘major’ said to stay, there had been a misunderstanding and we would be moved elsewhere and to not worry.

Shortly Gilda’s phone rang, the major had found us alternative accommodation so we all piled back on the bus to be billeted around the town in various other accommodation facilities: holiday villas, small hotels and private houses.

Finding our new accommodation, going to the local pizzeria for dinner and heading back saw all 33 of us very tired and looking forward to bed. I think Montespertoli, the major and Gilda, our poor guide, were all grateful to see the back of us that night.


Next post: Exploring Montespertoli