Steeped in history

Our last day in Chianti country we head for Panzano, which we can see twinkling at nights from our terrace. 

Here we find a single street with a few side alleys, leading up to a tall church, set on high stairs making it even taller, at the very top of the hill. It had one side altar elaborately decorated for Easter, the rest -- plain, stark, unadorned. 

There was an interesting old alimentaria decorated beautifully. He advertised coffee but had no seating. And a wine tasting shop, where the seller, already well primed, was dressed in academic gown keen to conduct tasting lessons, even at coffee time. And an attractive old repaired and rusted door off another closed shop -- but nothing opened that sold a coffee. 

So, on we drove to Volpaia at the top of a narrow winding road. This turned out to be a fortified town, and one of our favourites among these hills so we spent hours here. There were two shops open: a bar and a restaurant. They were owned by two sisters who have lived in the village for over 50 years: all their lives, their father and mother here before them.

Only 30 folk live here now, we were told. Most appear to be seniors. How they buy potatoes and milk if they don't have a car, is a mystery to us, as there simply is no facility for groceries here. Though chefs and waitresses drive up the hill every day for service so maybe they do a kindness for them. 

The village's remoteness goes way back, though it appears in written records over a thousand years ago when the castello owners on taking out a loan for 24 shillings used their home on the top of the hill as security. Hundreds of years later it was owned by another family, Volpaia, whose name remains to identify the town. They were engineers, and made time pieces so skilfully they were called upon to give advice to Leonardo Da Vinci when he needed it in his intricate research. One of their planetary clocks is exhibited even in Palazzo Vecchio. 

Today, the village is mostly owned by a family who owns the vineyards on the surrounding slopes: all at the very heart of Chianti Classico country. Their Volpaia winery now occupies the castello cellars and a wine shop is opened here in summer. One of the village churches it is believed was designed by one of Donatello's apprentices. So steeped in history is this village that the Volpaia wine even uses a fine graphic of that very church front and its well, on their bottle label. 

We ate delicious pasta and local oil drizzled over bread and ground salt for lunch at La Bodega, then drove through Chianti country for the last time, marvelling at the beautiful scenery that still survives. Remembering all those who came this way before. 

Santa Maria Assunta in Panzano

Old alimentaria advertised coffee but had no seating 

Early in the day our wine taster was already very merry 

Fabulous rusted door

Volpaia, a fortified town famous for its extraordinary wine  

Only about 30 folk, mostly old, live in the village now

The village is owned by the family who owns the surrounding vineyards

Every cellar is stacked with wine

Volpaia wine is in the top three best in the world

Centuries seem compressed in these ancient villages.  Old cellars live on. 

A last drive through Chianti country

Pilgrims and wine connoisseurs have long passed along this route

Deep in the Chianti hills

We had a foodie day today, the loveliest kind, actually. It started late yesterday when we got home, as when we arrived back at the Agriturismo a relative of the owners and a helper (I love that in Italy there is always a helper who offers his time free to do so much of the seasonal work, year after year) continued with some kitchen gardening. Today the two planted a big bed of onions, ('because they taste better than store bought') in a gravelly, grainy, garden that looked far too dry and soilless to grow anything, then gave it only the lightest watering, waiting, instead, for rain, then left it to nature, claiming the onions would be glorious. This morning the plants were standing perfectly tall and straight: happy; so they both knew exactly what they were doing. 

They also pruned and trimmed grape vines down the terraces, ready to make more wine -- as if they needed it. The Cantina downstairs is filled with bottles from years back, that the family still has to catch up on. 

Now they are selling them through the Agriturismo as well to speed it up, but it doesn't seem to make much of a dent in the supply. This is not the Chianti Classico label, as they would need to pay to be part of the cooperative to call it that, but it is 100% Sangiovese grape so it is as good, if not better, than any registered label. Grown right in the heart of Chianti growing country with the sun shining on it for most of the year. What could be more perfect. 

Maurizio first cut some pussy willow shoots off an ancient nearby bush, trimming it bare, in order to sprout again next year for the same purpose. He bound these stalks of furry catkins with a switch of the willow then set about trimming and training the new lead grape vine shoots along the wire for fresh growth this year. It all looked so effortless and natural. 

And the fava beans for nitrogen replenishment growing between these grape vines are twice as high as most: despite the crumbly dry rock-strewn texture of the soil beneath. The grape vines here are thriving. 

After another delicious Agriturismo breakfast the next day, we headed off eastwards into the Chianti hills that we can see from all our windows and terraces, where there are yet more grapes and more olives with church spires at the top of most of the slopes. 

We called in at a little place called Sambucca for coffee, then walked the tiny town, right down to the Roman bridge that is still standing after being repaired at the end of the war, following bomb damage. This delightful place looks as if it came straight out of an episode of 'Allo 'Allo, so trapped in time is it. We could all imagine it as the heart of the Resistance during the war, and I am sure it could easily feature as a set for movies of that ilk. 

Our next stop was Greve in Chianti where we were blown away by a delightful town centre that appears as though it was built all in arches on both sides of the main street to hold a different market stall under each arch at every opportunity. Perfect for that. 

And, as it eventuates, that is nearly what has happened over the years. There is so much shopping here, and wonderful options, as well. Ceramics. Home made linens. Leathers. The major stall, though, is a salumi maker whose shop stretches under so many arches as it has become so popular and has grown over so many years, and has almost as many shop assistants as there are purchasers, today. They have great wood chopping block tables out on the sidewalk worn down with use over the many generations of salumi making. 

Amazing place, dripping with every type of salumi one could wish for. I bought a fennel flavoured salami that I will eke out in the thinnest slices and serve with amaretti biscuits: a combination I only discovered this morning in a food factory that we called at enroute just before stopping at Greve in Chianti. Sweet and sour together on the tongue: simply delicious. 

Not filled yet from samples, we then went for a long slow lunch in an Enoteca recommended by our Agriturismo girls: the best Bistecca all Fiorentina, they recommended. And it was. Nearly 2" thick and in a 1.3 kg piece, charred on the outside, rare and beautifully set in the centre, it seriously was a taste of heaven. Cooked by a Japanese chef in a little wine-bar-cum-trattoria in the middle of the Chianti hills. We had to give him a hug it was such a wonderful lunch. 

We spent the afternoon photographing the hills and wound our way home in time to cook dinner, check the onions, the grape vines, the cellar, the dog and the roaming chickens before they head to their roost for the night, and we headed to ours. 

Another lovely day in Tuscany. 

Cantina of wines

Maurizio hard pruned some willow shoots

Maurizo training the grape shoots 

From ground to horizontal guide

A neat willow tie for the grape shoot

Fava beans between the grapes provide nitrogen 

Roman bridge still standing in Sambucca

Greve in Chianti has market arches all up and down the Main Street

Ancient thick salumi chopping board dented with use

Fennel flavoured salami was my favourite taste today 

Bistecca all Fiorentina lying flat instead of standing on its bone

Tuscany hills to remember

A ghost and a rooster

Today we crammed in two small villages that had tales to tell. The first was Monteriggioni, purpose-built by Sienna as a bastion on a hilltop during its long and never-ending battles with Florence. 

They built it sound. They built it strong. It was completely encircled by walls with just one gate to the north, facing Florence, and one to the south, facing Sienna. It had fourteen massive strong towers overlooking the valley on all sides. 

There were even garden plots built inside the walls, and fountains to water them, so that in times of siege the hill community could be self-sufficient, if needed. 

It seemed impregnable. And it was.  Battle after battle Florence made no headway against Sienna's clever bulwark.

Until, one dastardly night on the 29 August 1554, the commander of the garrison, Captain Giovanni Zeti, secretly rode out and negotiated a deal with the Florentine forces besieging the town: his own skin and the good graces of Cosimo 1 of Florence, if he cooperated with them. 

He then gave the keys of Monteriggioni to the Florentine troops. And thanks to that betrayal they were able to easily enter the garrison, take the community as slaves -- and finally, Monteriggioni was defeated. 

It is said that on dark and gloomy nights Zeti's ghost, unable to live with his betrayal, wanders underground passages in the community, moaning still. 

Tourists come by bus loads. Walkers still follow the pilgrim route through Monteriggioni, heading to Rome. 

One local artist even sculpted a drinking fountain tablet on the edge of town that looks for all the world like a medieval font: carving signa pellegrinorum in stone, inspired by the small devotional emblems made of lead and uncovered on the route from long ago pilgrims who wore them stitched to their clothing as emblems. Signs that they had made it this far. The way that today's tourists display stickers on cars, denoting their travel stops. 

It looks much as it ever did. With medieval fountains in the square, and boutiques selling products that are modern, but that could easily be medieval. 

We then drove south through this once contested area. Today it is a peaceful country, with cyprus drives leading to Chianti castellos,  their fields of grapes separated by row crops of fava beans, that enrich the rocky soil with nitrogen.

We stopped for a delicious lunch in a pretty fortress town of Castellina in Chianti, which had another tale to tell of the constant battles between Sienna and Florence for supremacy in the area. 

Tired of warring over the region, it is said that the Florence and Sienna authorities agreed to a plan for boundaries. At the crow of a cock each would send a knight -- one leaving from Sienna and heading north, one from Florence, heading south-- so that where they met enroute would be the dividing line and become the agreed boundary limit for each territory. 

Sienna selected their cock ready for the dawn wake up. A white cock, fat and fine. They fed him well, put him to roost, and went to bed. 

Florence selected theirs. A black cock with a swirly tail. They starved him, keeping him hungry all through the night.

Clever Florence. 

The black cock woke first. Hungry. He crowed so early that the Florentine knight set out well in advance of the knight from Sienna. Both made good ground but when they met here in Castellini in Chianti, the Florentine knight had covered more territory, giving his state much larger gains than the Siennese. 

Even today, the black rooster is the symbol of Chianti Classico wine famous throughout the world. And the tale draws tourists to the pretty town with its fortress, La Rocca, standing tall and strong. And its alleys low and long. Tales live long in these hills and valleys. 

Monteriggioni inspired Dante's Inferno

Monteriggioni, a powerful bastion for Sienna

In times of siege was self-sufficient

Impregnable construction 

Zeti gave the keys of Monteeriggioni to the Florentines

Zeti's ghost is said to wander here, moaning aloud

Monteriggioni is on the pilgrim route to Rome

 A modern sculpture that looks like a medieval monument to the pilgrims

Boutiques selling modern products that could be medieval

Cyprus drives leading to Chianti castellos

The hills of Chianti

The black rooster is today the symbol of Chianti Classico wine

La Rocca, in the fortress town of Castellina in Chianti

Alleys in Castellina in Chianti are low and long

A moment in Medieval time

We passed through grape-clad hills enroute to our next stop in Tuscany and came across a very pretty castello in a village called Monsanto, which is dedicated to producing excellent Chianti Classico on every surrounding hillscape not covered by the cyprus pines that stand tall and on guard there, thus keeping the excellent family cellar stacked, and private. 

San Gimignano, a little further on, is a tiny hilltop village dotted with many tall towers that make it appears a screen capture from history -- a moment in medieval time -- that keeps it looking as it once was, way back. 

Its history goes right back to the Etruscans, but its eccentric moment in time came when wealthy Italian nobles and aristocracy living here during the fourteenth century sought to outdo their neighbours by building a higher tower, and yet an even higher tower. My tower will be bigger than yours was the ruling syndrome. So high did the towers became that soon the city officials had to restrict the limit: saying they could not be built taller than the existing tallest nearest to the Duomo. 

The towers seen from every hill and valley from afar, are square and tall, only about 1 metre by 2 metres large, built against other buildings that were often made of timber and earth. There were few windows and the walls were often very thick which kept them cool in summer and warm in winter. The bottom floors were usually cellars, warehouses, workshops; the next level were bedrooms; above that were the kitchens - the rationale for it being high was  that if there was to be a fire in the kitchen, there would  always be an escape route down. The top tower spaces were intended for security in times of siege. 

Today only 13 of the 72 towers that once existed, remain. Most fell down due to poor foundations; so even back then the wealthy could not always get excellent skilled labourers who could build them a substantial building that would last a long long time. Though some did. 

Then, the plague hit San Gimignano, and its population was decimated, and it never quite recovered: leaving it much as it is today. 

Today, San Gimignano is almost completely a tourist village. It is thronged with visitors from abroad and the shops and restaurants reflect that. Expensive wine boutiques. Colourful ceramic shops with urns of all shapes and sizes. Delicatessens filled with the smell of fine cheese and salumi. Art galleries displaying works that you might see in Rome or Paris. Stylish restaurants selling the classic Tuscan bread soup: Ribollita. Or wild boar ragu over ravioli. Or even a simple, yet stylish, tagliatelle bolognese. Even the old fixtures and fittings on external walls from ages past still look elegant and beautiful. A lovely place: albeit completely touristy.

Monsanto dedicated to growing Chianti Classico made with 80% Sangiovese grapes

There once were 72 towers in the little town of San Gimignano

The Duomo became the measure for the maximum height of towers in  the 14th century tower war between local nobles

A typical tower plan of San Gimignano

San Gimignano is now very much a tourist town

Colourful ceramic shops

Delicatessens of salumi and fine cheese

Exceptional local and regional products

Art galeries galore

Classic Tuscan bread soup, Ribollita,  is on many menus

Wild boar over ravioli

Tagliatelle bolognese

Beautiful fixtures

Lovely old fitting for mail