Batch two of Italian goodness now available in our Tuscan Album.
After the bustle of Rome, we took a train to Siena and then drove the winding (and winding, and winding rodes) to our agriturisimo, Villa di Soto, in Tuscany. By law, and agriturisimo must get most of it’s income from farming–the bed and breakfast business has to just be a side gig. Villa di Soto harvests olives, grapes, figs, pears, and produces it’s own olive oil. While we were there our dear “Signora Nonna” (Mrs. Grandma) made us breakfast every morning in common dinning room — fresh Italian cakes baked with fig marmalade from her kitchen or pears from the courtyard, thick slices of marscapone cheese with honey, and cappacino from the little silver pot on the stove. (Or in our case warm milk with honey for the kids and tea in a proper pot for the grown ups.) Our little brick apartment with the wooden shutters overlooked the valley sunsets, which we could enjoy while eating warm pannini from the farm house with local wild boar salami, or make our own dinner in our little kitchen with supplies from the aglimentari. The medieval complex consisted of a collection of little building including a few homes, two small restaurants which we never saw open (too off season), and a tiny chapel with a bell tower which rang out the hours.
There was also a pool, which the girls were very excited about. When we went to find one of the owners to let us us, he laughed at us and mimmed that it was too cold. Still, he unlocked the gate and we got out the lounge chairs. When he came by a half hour later to lock up, he was surprised to find that Eden was still in the freezing cold water! I think he was impressed.
The Tuscan countryside is ridiculously gorgeous at this time of year. I felt like I was bathing in a pool of lush images. It was too late for the sunflowers. But the grapes were heavy on the vines and as I snapped my photos I could hear the harvesters singing in the fields. The soil was every varigated shade of siena, and the olive trees shimmered silver. These rolling hills or a rock by the sea — the two places I am happiest.