Pedestrians and motorized vehicles have an uneasy co-existence in Italy: Central Venice had no roads so picking up the car in Florence (Firenze) is our baptism in this spiky relationship. Letta me tell you, Google Maps and Siri are totally unprepared to deal with navigating streets in Italian cities. Somehow we manage to not hit anyone or anything and make it out to the autostrada, where there is a different game in play, which is driving at the maximum capability of your particular conveyance. Still, it’s hardly worse than the UK in that respect and we make it to the outskirts of Montepulciano without incident.
Italy is full of Medieval walled towns, with the basic idea being that you don’t drive within that perimeter or you’ll get a big ticket, not to mention cause an international kerfuffle. Bear in mind that there are many exceptions to that rule, and that the Internet is not very good in identifying these controlled zones, and you have a recipe for bewilderment for average visitors like us.
After a narrow escape, we check-in and walk into the old town – “into” doesn’t quite cut it, it was more like we attempted the ascent. Montepulciano is a Tuscan hill town, for sure, but the hill doesn’t end at the city walls, it just keeps going up at a fearsome gradient. There’s rumor of a mini bus called “Il Pollocino” (the little chicken) that navigates the narrow pedestrian streets, but we’ve not figured out the system yet, so on we struggle up the mountain to the enoteca E Lucevan el Stelle, our target.
Vino Nobile di Montepulciano is grape of choice here, with “Rosso” being the simpler, table wine version. It’s all Sangiovese but we find it a more challenging wine than Chianti, very little fruit, very earthy. This is a wine Mecca with the old town full of Cantine (cellars) and enotecas with huge libraries of local wine at prices far below what they would go for in the US or the UK. We find out that it’s possible to drink too much wine.
So, too much wine, not enough exercise so the next day we decide to walk from Montepulciano to Montefollonico. It’s not far, it’s that little city on the hill on the other side of the valley he said. It was tough, the ascents and descents were profoundly severe. Moaning aside, the views were amazing, evolving as we made our way down, then across then up the other side. Got lost right off the bat, but a farmer showed us a short cut through his land to get us back on track. Hiking through vineyards, olive groves and arable land, it was what you come to Tuscany to experience.
Bagni San Filippo, is a thermal springs just outside a tiny village in the hills. There are a couple of spa resorts, but there’s also a free natural area with a stream and some warm bathing spots. We’re lucky that it’s not so busy when we visit and, by hiking in a ways we’re able to snag a mini waterfall and pool to ourselves. It was, indeed, a highlight, check out the photos in the gallery for Montepulciano.
Based on badass Rick Steve’s advice, we make a reservation for a tour and tasting at Azienda Agricola Santa Giulia near Montalcino. It’s just the two of us and our knowledgeable host and it’s just about perfect with great wine, a spread of antipasti, rustic surroundings, wonderful views and a wine dog and cat. Montalcino is the home of Brunello, again Sangiovese, but again quite different from both Chianti or Nobile. Quite a snooty and difficult wine, interesting to try but we wouldn’t be putting down the $ required on a regular basis.
More wine tasting the next day, this time on a tour, but it’s off season and we’re the only people in the mini-van. The driver takes us on a crazy backroads route with panoramic views along the ridges to the first stop which is a large operation owned by an insurance company. It’s not intimate but we get a good look at how they do things including an amazing automated bottling and cartoning system. (Exciting stuff, I know). The second place is the polar opposite, small and rustic with the only person around being the relatively young winemaker. He takes us into a part of the cellar where they’re storing the grapes for the sweet wine and they let them desiccate under clouds of fruit flies. Looks positively medieval but it must work.
We do meet up with Il Pollocino eventually, you have to get tickets first from the bus station and know the schedule, and it’s a hoot to be onboard as it careens up the tiny streets of the old town scattering confused tourists in its wake. Hey, once you’ve walked a few times all the way to the Grande Piazza you’ll become an expert on Il Pollocino, the little chicken that could.
It’s been good to stay in one place for nearly a week and regain a little bit of composure before we head back into the city, this time it will be Roma. But first we have to leave the car off in downtown Firenze and, oh boy, we crossed the river 3 or 4 times in the historic center with swarms of tourists on the road, or were they sidewalks? It seemed like we were the only car and could this really be the way but, somehow, like Italy in general, it seemed to work and we escaped to the train station.
All roads lead to Roma.
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