Monday, February 2, 2015

Tuscan Wasteland by the Who

Hello dearest readers, I apologize for the week's delay but I have been very near death (basically) with the influenza or something similar that one catches overseas. Never fear, I will now bore you to death with details on my adventure last week to a wine tasting in Chianti!

It all began with a bus ride through the hilly countryside. I had for some pretentious reason assumed that we would be taking another private bus to our destination; however, this was not the case at 7:30 in the morning as we boarded...prepare yourselves...a city bus.

oh sure, impress me with your view
It is imperative to understand that Italian city buses (and indeed most of Europe I would presume) are not the same as a luxurious Greyhound as in America. It was humid, moist (everyone's favorite word but oh so applicable here), and packed with gypsies. Yikes.

displeased by the peasantry I was treated as






















Upon reaching the top of the windiest roadiest hill known to Tuscany, we set off on foot for a "light, easy hike." I don't know what fit planet the writers of the program's brochure live on, but we feeble humans tend not to consider six miles uphill hiking a "light, easy hike." False advertising 101. Thus begins the montage of barren Tuscan wasteland (just kidding, it was beautiful).

once there were olive trees

many, many olive trees

and vineyards


















many, many vineyards

and there were also humans in these vineyards

and they liked to look at dead vineyards

and the dead vineyards liked to look at them too
not to mention old houses
and progressively aging humans























and tangles and tangles of deceased plantry

and here is where Jesus prayed

and here is where the scantily clad vines earn their living


































this is probably a painting
At long, long, long, long, long, long, long my fingers are tired last, we reached the summit of Mount Everest!

slamma jamma panorama

happy I didn't have to pitch myself over the edge

I considered it though

where the heavens meet the living meet the dead

in the distance, some random mountains topped with snow!


















This entire hike, by the way, was through the section of Chianti called Greve (similarity to "grieve" is not overlooked).

Then came the fun part of our journey. We attended a fancy schmancy wine tasting at a prince's house! His name was Lorenzo Something-Noble and he first showed us his family's cellar and how they make their wine and spiders hanging from the cellar and that ended my tour.

my one picture of glory
After being briefed on how to properly enjoy the "tannins" and "flavors" and "aromas" that "wine" offers, we devoured the many pastas and bread lathered in homemade olive oil. Oh sweet heaven. The wines we tasted included: Chianti Classico, which can only be called such if it is from one of the ten villages that meets some hefty standards; San Giovese, which is only from the section of Chianti we were in; Super Tuscany, a mix of something or other; a fourth, which I couldn't remember (can you blame me at this point); concluded by Grappa, a liquor made from the skins of white grapes that tastes like a cross between tequila, whiskey, and bleach. My favorite part was the olive oil.

When we were all out of our minds drunk (kidding again), we got to explore a little more of the town. I came across this coy little pathway,

I am slenderman

which opened up to this secret view!

were you there the whole time?

moving in immediately
essentially trekked this entire landscape
I sum up the day and Tuscany with this final picture through a fence.

I'M TRAPPED (just kidding)

1 comment:

  1. Here's what I read: "We lathered in olive oil. Oh sweet heaven!" Which sounds about right.

    ReplyDelete