Villa di Piazzano and the Three Walled Towns
Trip Start
Jun 10, 2007
1
2
5
Trip End
Jun 18, 2007
Cortona,
Italy
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Card Players
Finding our way out of Arezzo was challenging, but we escaped and drove through countryside and small town and before driving up to Cortona. The views of the valley were increasingly beautiful, but Bettie didn't enjoy the hairpin turns and was glad when we finally stopped at Hotel Cory's, above Cortona. The ristorante was closed, and we were directed to a bar down the street.
We arrived as it began to rain. We badly needed food and la toilette. We were greeted by the woman who ran the bar and ignored by several older men playing cards
Montepulciano
. We bought gelato and settled in to watch the card players as the storm roared outside. There were two tables, with about six men each. In between, one man sat alone at a third table with a deck of cards in front of him. We never knew if he was a stranger, an outcast, or just a lone-wolf, but a woman came in and bought him a drink that consisted of acqua gasata and red flavoring, something like a Shirley Temple.
The new woman chatted with the owner; the thunder peeled outside; the rain fell in sheets; and the card players slapped their cards on the table and shouted emphatically. We were the lone Americans. No one spoke a word of English, and although we felt welcomed, we were ignored. Bettie remarked that it felt like a scene from a Fellini movie.
When the rain let up, we headed back down to look for Pergo, a tiny hamlet, and for Villa di Piazzano. After two benzinaio stops, I learned that Pergo was "over there" toward a notch in the hills. I followed my instincts until Bettie saw a sign for Villa di Piazzano. Before long, we drove down a long cypress-lined lane and entered the villa's gate. We had arrived, and I was an "experienced" Tuscan driver
The cat (lord) of the villa
.La Colombaia e La Tufa
We were greeted by a gracious young woman who allowed me to say, "Abiamo una prenotazione, a nome Adams," before she responded in perfect English that we were expected and our room was ready. She showed us the reading room, the lounge/bar and the breakfast room and invited us to take the tiny elevator up two floors.
She met the elevator and showed us to our room, La Colombaia (pronounced col-um-buy-ya). After indicating the spacious bathroom, she led us up narrow square stairs to our sitting room, a bright airy room with a large picture-window view of the Tuscan hills.
I carried my books and journal upstairs to "my reading and writing room," but Bettie wasn't sure about staying. The sleeping room was a bit gloomy; the villa was half a mile from its nearest neighbor; and it was old enough to be haunted by five centuries of ghosts.
The Villa di Piazzano (residenza d'epoca) originated in 1464 as the hunting manor of Cardinal Silvo Passerini. Later, it served as a convent for nuns and a tobacco and vine growing estate. The first floor included the kitchen, reception hall, two common rooms and the dining room. Two curving staircases led to the upper floors, and our sitting room was the only fourth floor room.
There was a formal garden at the front and a spacious terrace beyond the dining room. Down the stairs from the terrace was a sparking swimming pool. To the side and back of the villa, the Tuscan hill rose green and inviting. From the entrance, we could see the hills of Cortona to our right and the plateau sloping away to the valley directly ahead.
When I asked about dinner, our hostess suggested La Tufa in Ossaia. We dined on the partially covered terrace and enjoyed a grand view of the valley.
We were hungry and ordered grigliata misti (mixed grilled meats), with a side of verdure Toscano (mixed veggies) plus un mezzo litro di vino rosso della casa. The grilled meats included beef, pork, lamb and sausage, salty but excellent. The veggies were overcooked, but the wine was excellent. When we ordered desert and coffee, I asked how to say "half liter," but the waiter thought I wanted more wine and brought another pitcher. Luckily, he didn't charge us for it.
It was pleasant dining outside at sunset among a local crowd, and that night, I slept soundly. No Tuscan ghosts haunted my dreams, and I woke to admire the hills bathed in a low hanging mist. Yes, I decided, I could spend the rest of my days at Villa di Piazzano, at least until my credit ran out.
Our First Walled Town
Before breakfast, I explored the grounds and walked down a farm road. The hills rose hundreds of feet to my left and even higher before me. Eventually, I came to a sign that read "Vietato Accesso -- Attenti al Cane" (keep out -- beware the dog), and I saw two large private villas nestled in the hills.
After I returned, Bettie and I went to the dining room for an excellent Tuscan breakfast of ham, cheese, fruit, juice, rolls and caffè Americano. Following breakfast, I walked out the entrance drive, up a hill to a small parish church, and along the road above a number of farms and private villas. The views of the hills and the valley were beautiful.
For our day trip, we drove across the valley to Montepulciano and were awed as we stepped through the lower gate into our first walled Tuscan hill town. Our main stop was lunch at Caffè Poliziano. The style was described as Art Nouveau but looked more Victorian; nonetheless, the view of the Valdichiana (Valley of Chiana) from the balcony was glorious.
That night, our hostess suggested we dine at Pane e Vino in Cortona. By the time we entered the city through one of the lower gates, it was getting dark. There were few lights, and we were confronted by two sets of steps leading to a dark, steep, narrow street. Bettie said, "Enough!" and we drove back down to Camucia where we found a bar/pizzeria.
I ordered due pizza con quattro formaggi, an acqua naturale for Bettie and
La Biere du Demon for myself. I wanted a local beer, but all I saw were Bud, German beer and one Italian beer that turned out to be heavily fortified with alcohol - "La plus forte du monde."
By the time we finished, the staff was setting the tables for the next day's lunch. Bettie saw a montage of photos of a young child and asked the waitress if it was her bambino. Certainly not, she replied. It was the owner's son who was now twelve. Bettie was certain the child looked like his father, but I was too full of pizza and strong beer to notice.
Breakfast on the Terrace
Our second breakfast at the villa was served on the terrace surrounded by a magnificent Tuscan morning. We found a table under a large umbrella with an excellent view of the hills, but the villa's large calico cat sleeping on one of the padded chairs. As I considered tipping it out, a friendly waitress picked up the chair and gently moved the sleeping cat to an adjoining table.
When we arrived, two mature American women were enjoying a quite cup of coffee. When a third arrived, the conversation became more animated. Shortly thereafter, the fourth woman arrived. She was in wore dark glasses, a panama hat, and a full length white terrycloth robe. "Anyone for the pool?" she said as she approached. Finally a fifth woman arrived, and they carried on a spirited conversation about their travels and the people they had left at home.
They were traveling separately and spending a few days together at Villa di Piazzano. They talked about how to spend their day. One wanted to go to Siena, another to shop at the outlets, a third to go to San Gimignano, and a fourth didn't care where they went as long as they made a plan. All the time, "Panama Hat" stood with an unlit cigarette trying to decide whether to go to the pool or stay with her friends.
They talked of their exploits the night before, and agreed that it didn't matter where they went at night as long it involved alcohol. After a few somewhat negative comments about Italian cooking, one woman remarked, "I can handle the alcohol, it's the lard that's killing me." About that time a British couple arrived with their two small children. It was a very entertaining start to the day.
Cortona for One
After our fruitless attempt to dine in Cortona, I returned alone the next morning. At the first hairpin turn, a bus almost ran me into the rock wall. Lucky for the driver, I didn't know any Italian curses.
At mid-morning, the parking lots were full, but I found a space on a road below the town and walked up the hill until I came to a pedestrian path leading up into Giardini del Paterre, a cliff-side park with a small outdoor cinema, a beautiful fountain and great views of the valley.
The park opened on to Piazza Garibaldi and Via Nazionale, the only level street in the entire town. I was in heaven. I had 90 minutes to scramble over as much of Cortona as my legs could endure. By the end of that time, I had climbed up and down the city's 330 meter elevation change and seen all five of the Piazzi, several of the gates, and the magnificent views on three sides of the city's ridge line. I had even located two WC publici, no small feat in a foreign, medieval, walled town.
After exploring Piazza della Repubblica and Piazza Signorelli, I poked around the narrow lower streets above the western gates and followed the city wall up to Porta Montanina, the north-eastern gate. After descending to Piazza San Cristoforo, I climbed back across the ridge to enjoy a breathtaking view of Lago Trasimeno, 17 km away in the valley below. Finally, I descended more or less "straight" down Via Berrettini and Via Santucci to arrive back at Piazza della Repubblica.
It was a perfect short visit, and my only regret was not reaching Fortezza di Girifalco, situated well up the ridge above the city.
Fortezza on the Lake
Bettie and I selected Castiglione di Lago, a walled town atop a limestone promontory on Lago Trasimeno, for our afternoon outing. The city is of Etruscan origins, and its fortezza, Rocca di Leone, was built in 1247.
The promontory is only a little above the valley floor, but water protected this town on three sides. Unlike Montepulciano, the street beyond the city gate led to a level piazza.
We were hungry, but neither of the bars on the piazza served pranzo. As we crossed the square, a woman caught our eye with a plate of cheese. Soon we were sampling several cheeses, all made by her famiglia. Then she invited us to sample the wine, also from her famiglia. How could we refuse? Not having a place to drink the wine, I bought pane e formaggio that she sliced into three big hunks in response to my hand gestures.
Bettie didn't feel like goat cheese, and not far up the street, we found a bar with pizza and a terazza. There were with a dozen umbrella-shaded tables on the terrace that afforded a wonderful view of Lago Trasimeno.
After lunch, we walked to la fortezza, situated on highest point on the promontory. Rocca di Leone measures about 100 ft by 50 ft. Its walls are at least 30 high, and its single tower rises another 20 feet. The fortress shows its age (750 years), but the citizens of Castiglione di Lago were using its open interior as a summer theater.
That evening we dined on the villa's terrace and enjoyed our best dinner since arriving in Italy. Villa di Piazzano and the three walled towns fulfilled all our fantasies.
