Italian Retreat Day Two

The day when we ate a lot of food and drank a lot of wine… no wait, that was every day!

Having woken at five I stay quietly in bed once again listening to the birds. I think about getting up for a walk, or even a swim but I don’t, as I fear my flatmate is not an early bird like me and I have to walk past her open doorway to access our shared bathroom. Eventually I deem that 7 am is a reasonable time to rise so I get up, shower and venture out but there’s no one else around. Wherever I am, I love the early morning before the rest of the world gets up.

Eventually I make my way to the dining room to find a breakfast buffet as lavish and delicious as last night’s dinner. Fresh fruit, thick creamy yoghurt, granola peppered with chunks of dark chocolate, flavoursome Italian tomatoes accompanied by slivers of salty cheese and sliced meats… what to choose? I opt for chocolate cake but do not judge me; I ate it with fruit and yoghurt which I convinced myself was healthy, washed down with cups of aromatic coffee.

Today we were going on a trip to the nearby town of Cortona and Rosie gave us our task for our writing, lest we should forget we were actually here to write, not just eat. We boarded our slick Mercedes minibus driven by the young, handsome Fabrizio and set off for Cortona, to explore and be inspired. Cortona is built on an early Etruscan settlement like many of the towns in this area and is famous for being the location where ‘Under the Tuscan Sun” was filmed, a movie based on the memoir of the same name written by Frances Mayes, a recently divorced writer who buys a villa in Tuscany in the hope it will change her life, which I’m guessing it did given the resulting film and subsequent books.

Slowly strolling up the old, cobbled street my hand reached out to touch the wall, glowing with warm ochre tones, the surface flaking under my fingers, peeling away like old, dried skin. My senses are bombarded. The comforting smell of expensive leather mingles with the aroma of freshly cooked pizza. All around there is a gentle buzz of tourists mingling with locals, perusing the gift shops, galleries and boutiques or sitting sipping bitter aperitifs at street side tables. Above our heads huge multi coloured flags flutter and wave in the breeze: oversized birds coming to land. All around is the buzz of conversation in different languages, with the staccato of Italian rising and falling in an easy rhythm.

The church bells ring out in a crescendo, slowly rising to a peak marking the arrival of midday, as I climb the steep lane towards the church, Chiesa San Francesco, a popular stop for pilgrims following the Franciscan trail. Apparently there is a relic of the true cross used at the crucifixion of Jesus held inside, but I don’t go in to look. Instead I enter the cloisters and as if by magic all the sounds of the town fall away and there is silence, the outside world completely shut out. When I speak, my voice bounces back off the ancient walls, a soft echo returning to me. I am still.

I linger awhile and take out my sketchbook, fascinated by the mathematical symmetry of one of the plants (an Aeonium) in the courtyard. It will prove to be just one of only two drawings that I make all week despite my best intentions.

I head back down the hill to meet up with the others for lunch on the terrace of an old theatre. The 19^th century Theatre Signorelli is situated in a piazza in the centre of Cortona, and it has a long tradition continuing to the present day, of music, theatre, culture, entertainment and dreams. It is less than 24 hours since we all met for the first time but already friendships are being forged and laughter rings out around the table. I eat a dish of ravioli filled with pear and cheese in a buttery gorgonzola sauce washed down with a crisp white Italian wine. There will be a lot more wine and food before the day is over.

On our way back to the minibus our progress is thwarted by several groups of young musicians dressed in medieval costume, parading down the narrow streets, mostly beating drums or waving flags. I stood well back from those flag bearers who were twisting their large flagpoles into the air with the ease of majorettes before catching them and tossing them back in the air once more. I never did find out what the celebration or festival was about, but it looked like serious business.

Onto further serious business of another kind and a wine tasting experience at the winery of Fabrizio Doveri. Fabrizio is a man with a passion for his wine, produced on a small scale from Syrah grapes grown on the hillsides near Cortona. He very generously let us taste four different vintages including one from last year drawn directly from the cask. Each year the L’Usciòlo gains an extra depth but every sip was full of the flavour of cherries and currants in this rich mellow ruby red wine. Fabrizio writes poetically about his wine, although the cynic in me detects a touch of AI at work. I want to be wrong about that!

“The child of our generous earth, of sunny days full of light, as well as sleepless nights watering the thirsty vineyard when August heat cracks open fields. I produce a limited quantity, striving to ennoble the vines’ qualities expressed through perfume, depth and softness.”

And as is the custom in Italy it was served with plates of olives, cheese and cured meats, alongside a an utterly delicious yet very simple appetiser made with a slices of cheese sandwiched between two small squares of Italian bread, wrapped with prosciutto, brushed with olive oil and baked in the oven until the bacon was crisp and the cheese oozing. Definitely one I shall try at home. There followed much raucous laughter and good natured jesting with our handsome and charming winemaker.

There was just enough time on our return to make some quick notes in our journals about this first day of our retreat which was packed full of sensory experiences, before it was time to freshen up and sit down for yet another wonderful meal that included a rustic Tuscan soup, some mini pastries and finished off with Cantucci biscuits that we dunked into home produced Vin Santo. It was a restless night that followed a day filled with so much food and wine, but it was totally worth it.