Thursday, May 26, 2011

La Loggia, Tuscano

24 May 2011

My Driver is sick!

This, as you can understand is a travesty. If the driver is ill, the conditions of living, driving, relaxing, and enjoying, deteriorate. Suddenly my two day illness has had to be moved to the back burner while I allow the driver to be the sick one for as long as he likes. He is like a bear with a sore tooth mind, so I'm wondering how long I will tolerate the frivolity for.

I'm resilient though - as resilient as a butterfly in a wind tunnel, so all is good.

Today we decided to return to Tuscany - I told you my driver is sick! After already staying in this area and having my driver state that he was unimpressed with Tuscany, he has done an about turn and re-calculated. I don't mind at all because I think this place is awesome and the people are awesomer.

I mentioned that it was hot, but I don't think there is an adequate word to describe this heat. Fortunately we found a place in the vineyards to stay in and it has a large swimming pool. Now one can truly relax. We are staying at a place called Fattoria La Loggia.

Fattoria La Loggia is not a hotel but a working farm, which produces wines, spumante and olive oil. I'm not here to work, if that's what your first immediate thought was (banish it right away). I'm here to eat cheese and drink wine and watch the other people working.

George has been at it again. He seems so have no clue at times and with us having less of a clue, it makes driving conditions incredibly stressful. We had to call it a day a few hours ago because he seems to be struggling with his memory - to the extent that my driver was forced to use expletives on him. I didn't join in on the cussing but I was surruptitiously ecstatic! Finally it's not just me who thinks George is a dunce sometimes.

We drove around this morning in search of a place to overnight and followed some signs (to give George a rest). We found the most magnificent place. It looked almost like an apartment block, but way better. We parked the car and walked inside to find the reception area. This place was absolutely beautiful. The front garden had an automatic lawn mower riding up and down on the lawn, making patterns and cutting as it went along.

I was walking around taking photographs and my driver was opening doors trying to find the reception. We walked around the side of the property and heard a dog barking. I immediately dropped to my knees to give the dog some loving when a lady walked out a side door and started talking to us in Italian.

In our broken Italian (Prego - the only word I know - means it's a pleasure - and it really was a pleasure) we tried to tell her that we were looking for reception. She immediately told us we were in the wrong area and when we wanted to walk back around the corner she told us we were not at a hotel but a private residence!

We apologized and left in search of a hotel, with me taking photos all the way back to the car.

We went shopping!! Not to shops that ladies like to go to, my driver took us to a grocery store to buy food for dinner. What could have taken literally 5 minutes ended up taking over an hour. All we needed was two steaks and potatoes, but my driver spent twenty minutes in the vegetable section! I have a feeling he was having an epiphany of sorts and thought we were having company for dinner. Then he kept saying he needed something green to have with his tomatoes, lettuce, garlic, carrot salad, cheese and biscuits! No wonder the belt buckle has had to move a few holes to allow for more room in there.

Wine tasting, although possible, is not so easy unless one has made an appointment with the respective vineyard. My question is this: how the hell does one make a reservation when one has no idea where one is going or when one will be at said place that one never even knew existed before the moment one drove past it's gate?

We have decided that we will stay here for a couple of nights. We have an apartment - I think that's what one would call it. It has a main bedroom, bathroom - with tiny shower, lounge room and kitchen. It was built in the early 1800's. The concrete stairway leading to the apartment is worn down and uneven. The doors are solid wood and so are the windows. The ceiling has wooden beams but it looks like the actual ceiling is some sort of terra-cotta tile or brick. It is incredibly cool.

Dinner will be served shortly, after a few glasses of good local wine.


~ Vanessa


My driver: Kimo
George: the GPS with no sense of humor

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