I got a brainwave one lazy afternoon and proposed a weekend getaway by car to Toscana and San Marino to L, who was surprisingly up for it. Una buona idea, specialmente when the car costs only 95e for 2 days. We thought 'the more, the merrier', so we invited Gang and Michele, our vino kakis to join us on this roadtrip. They took the bait subito after I mentioned keywords in our itinerary like 'vino tasting' and 'sagra di bistecca (steak)'. Si, we haven't given up on our sagra chase and are determined to hunt down our meat this time. A stake or no steak.
Sabato started out great when we got upgraded from a Fiat Punto to a sporty Volvo S40 - we teased Gang that Hertz knew he was our guest so they changed it (Gang's from Beijing and an engineer with Volvo in Italia). Michele was already busy chatting with the parrucchiere next door when we arrived to pick up the car. Germans are very punctual indeed. Our nickname for Mic was sindaco (mayor) as he's the oldest among us at 56 years old and very distinguished-looking with his Bavarese full beard. We looked like a mismatched squadro; a German, a Chinese, a Sporeana and Italiano, so our make-believe roles were respectively driver (L), tour guide (me), bodyguard-cum-photographer (Gang) and sindaco VIP (Mic).
Our first stop in Toscana was at a vineyard 'La Ciarliana' (
www.laciarliana.it), close to Montepulciano - a hilltop town which is known for their nobile vino. Along the way near Cortona just as I was telling the guys about 'Under The Tuscan Sun', we zipped past Frances Meyer's casa 'Bramasole' that happened to be up for sale. Allora posso comprarla ora, haha. At 10.50am, we sipped 4 diversi vini with the kindly owner - also named Luigi who gave us a tour of his facilities - and went away brilli with 4 bottiglie (I got a yummy 2001 Nobile Vino for just 15e).
We reached Montepulciano easily and toured the quaint town on foot. The colourful bandiere (flags) of the diverse contrade (clans) were already up, in time for the upcoming medievale race 'Bravio delle Botti' next Sunday, where the different team members have to roll 80-kg wine barrels (botti) around a 1.8km corso. Mamma miaaa, not an easy task considering the narrow uphill cobbled pathway. We zipped to nearby quiet Arezzo for a late pranzo at 2pm and snacked on antipasti platters with more vino rosso and cantucci dipped in the sweet golden vin santo. Piazza Grande was closed for renovation in preparation for the upcoming annual highlight 'Giostra del Saracino' (
www.giostradelsaracino.arezzo.it).
Contenti and pieni, we embarked on our hunt for the sagra but took some time to locate Civitella in Val di Chiana (it's this tiny village off a discreet turn). When we got there, it was dead quiet and no burning charcoal was in the air. Errrh. An old lady pointed us to Badia al Pino 10mins away (si, it was super ulu, man) ma finalmente we saw a tent for the Sagra della Bistecca' (festival of the steak). The chefs were busy chopping up the thick cuts at 7pm and the cool evening breeze carried the greasy profumo into the packed tent where we chopped down on wonderfully charred steaks among the locals, some probably never had Asians in their fold.
We had paid 17e for the set menu of bistecca, pane, pomodoro or fagioli and frutta, and an additional 3,50e each for the vino rosso. A bit expensive, we thought for a bicchiere (glass) but to our surprise the waitress brought us 4 bottiglie, all opened already and corks thrown away, so we had to drink them all. Non c'e nesun problema. Needless to say, we were molto felici after the 2nd bottglia.
Michele tried to chat up the lady next to him being his usual kaypoh self and asked her if the salsiccia is grasso but she seemed offended by his inquiry. We whispered to him not to talk to any local married woman cos they are propably not used to stranieri asking them about sausages. A stage was set up for a band (like our getai set-up) and the old folks dressed in their best jiggled their bits happily in sync to the tune all night long.
The next morning on domenica, L found the way to San Marino (an independent state like the Vaticano). I imagined a fascinating state with ancient peaks and uniformed guards but didn't expect the hordes of tourists, cheap eatries and trashy shops. The only saving grace was the breathtaking 360 degrees panaroma, especially the vista of the Rimini coastline and the misty blu Adriatic sea.
Usually the local culinary delights will cheer me up but even the specialty of piadina, a dry insipid tortilla-like crepe, filled with cheese, ham and rucola was a letdown. Pui. Sad to say, San Marino lacked authenticity and anima (soul), just a disguised Disneyland with real towers for buon mercato merrymakers. We drove to nearby Rimini for a spot of sea breeze before heading home; it certainly felt like Gold Coast in Australia with its many hotels, restaurants, bars, and shops catering to the millions of summer holidaymakers browning themselves at the beach crowned by the various bathing establishments. L said Rimini is probably where Italians have the most sex fuelled by the caldo sole.
I got a brainwave one lazy afternoon and proposed a weekend getaway by car to Toscana and San Marino to L, who was surprisingly up for it. Una buona idea, specialmente when the car costs only 95e for 2 days. We thought 'the more, the merrier', so we invited Gang and Michele, our vino kakis to join us on this roadtrip. They took the bait subito after I mentioned keywords in our itinerary like 'vino tasting' and 'sagra di bistecca (steak)'. Si, we haven't given up on our sagra chase and are determined to hunt down our meat this time. A stake or no steak. 
Sabato started out great when we got upgraded from a Fiat Punto to a sporty Volvo S40 - we teased Gang that Hertz knew he was our guest so they changed it (Gang's from Beijing and an engineer with Volvo in Italia). Michele was already busy chatting with the parrucchiere next door when we arrived to pick up the car. Germans are very punctual indeed. Our nickname for Mic was sindaco (mayor) as he's the oldest among us at 56 years old and very distinguished-looking with his Bavarese full beard. We looked like a mismatched squadro; a German, a Chinese, a Sporeana and Italiano, so our make-believe roles were respectively driver (L), tour guide (me), bodyguard-cum-photographer (Gang) and sindaco VIP (Mic). 
Our first stop in Toscana was at a vineyard 'La Ciarliana' (www.laciarliana.it), close to Montepulciano - a hilltop town which is known for their nobile vino. Along the way near Cortona just as I was telling the guys about 'Under The Tuscan Sun', we zipped past Frances Meyer's casa 'Bramasole' that happened to be up for sale. Allora posso comprarla ora, haha. At 10.50am, we sipped 4 diversi vini with the kindly owner - also named Luigi who gave us a tour of his facilities - and went away brilli with 4 bottiglie (I got a yummy 2001 Nobile Vino for just 15e). 
We reached Montepulciano easily and toured the quaint town on foot. The colourful bandiere (flags) of the diverse contrade (clans) were already up, in time for the upcoming medievale race 'Bravio delle Botti' next Sunday, where the different team members have to roll 80-kg wine barrels (botti) around a 1.8km corso. Mamma miaaa, not an easy task considering the narrow uphill cobbled pathway. We zipped to nearby quiet Arezzo for a late pranzo at 2pm and snacked on antipasti platters with more vino rosso and cantucci dipped in the sweet golden vin santo. Piazza Grande was closed for renovation in preparation for the upcoming annual highlight 'Giostra del Saracino' (www.giostradelsaracino.arezzo.it).
Contenti and pieni, we embarked on our hunt for the sagra but took some time to locate Civitella in Val di Chiana (it's this tiny village off a discreet turn). When we got there, it was dead quiet and no burning charcoal was in the air. Errrh. An old lady pointed us to Badia al Pino 10mins away (si, it was super ulu, man) ma finalmente we saw a tent for the Sagra della Bistecca' (festival of the steak). The chefs were busy chopping up the thick cuts at 7pm and the cool evening breeze carried the greasy profumo into the packed tent where we chopped down on wonderfully charred steaks among the locals, some probably never had Asians in their fold. 
We had paid 17e for the set menu of bistecca, pane, pomodoro or fagioli and frutta, and an additional 3,50e each for the vino rosso. A bit expensive, we thought for a bicchiere (glass) but to our surprise the waitress brought us 4 bottiglie, all opened already and corks thrown away, so we had to drink them all. Non c'e nesun problema. Needless to say, we were molto felici after the 2nd bottglia. 
Michele tried to chat up the lady next to him being his usual kaypoh self and asked her if the salsiccia is grasso but she seemed offended by his inquiry. We whispered to him not to talk to any local married woman cos they are propably not used to stranieri asking them about sausages. A stage was set up for a band (like our getai set-up) and the old folks dressed in their best jiggled their bits happily in sync to the tune all night long. 
The next morning on domenica, L found the way to San Marino (an independent state like the Vaticano). I imagined a fascinating state with ancient peaks and uniformed guards but didn't expect the hordes of tourists, cheap eatries and trashy shops. The only saving grace was the breathtaking 360 degrees panaroma, especially the vista of the Rimini coastline and the misty blu Adriatic sea. 
Usually the local culinary delights will cheer me up but even the specialty of piadina, a dry insipid tortilla-like crepe, filled with cheese, ham and rucola was a letdown. Pui. Sad to say, San Marino lacked authenticity and anima (soul), just a disguised Disneyland with real towers for buon mercato merrymakers. We drove to nearby Rimini for a spot of sea breeze before heading home; it certainly felt like Gold Coast in Australia with its many hotels, restaurants, bars, and shops catering to the millions of summer holidaymakers browning themselves at the beach crowned by the various bathing establishments. L said Rimini is probably where Italians have the most sex fuelled by the caldo sole. 
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