(Yesterday, At the Vatican, we visited Musei Vaticani, Sistine Chapel, Piazza de San Pietro, Dome of St. Peter’s Basilica and the Vatican Chapel)
May 27th, 2009
Tuscany threw a warm, golden square on my face to wake me up.
One peek outside the window, and I knew our planned departure would be two hours delayed. So pretty was the view. Rhea threw on some clothes, I my Nikon and we literally ran out.
The Fattorio Lisceto is breathtaking.
Set atop a hill, it is surrounded by green pastures rolling into distant hills. Neighboring farmhouses seem miles away. Accentuating the horizon.
The farmhouse is compact and functional. One building comprising of apartments. Every single apartment with a view. (Our bathroom has a better view than most $1 million houses I have seen in Seattle). A big central kitchen with a huge eating area – separate for breakfast and dinner. A small office and living quarters for the staff.
The place was minimalistic. Functional. After all, like most Agritourismo, we are the secondary means of income. The primary is organic farm produce. Skin products. Health products. All of this happens invisibly while we are entertained. Like how Disneyland gets maintained without the crowd ever noticing.
The farmhouse does not look staged – like a tourist trap and is deliciously rustic.
We enjoyed three exotic dinners at this place.
Around 8:00 PM, we would gather around the dinner table. Invariably, we would have a new occupant, a bright gleamy eyed nouveau-Tuscan. They would serve 5-6 courses of freshly made delicacies. Each course seemingly hitting a different region of your palate. The wine carafe seemed to stay full no matter how many times we tilted it over our glasses.
Around the time the dessert was served, you would check two things. Could you eat the dolce and did you have space for the grappa?
Then grappa would come to the table. And space would get created.
A heady walk back to the apartment with a view is how it is expected to be.
The farm has its animals. Being a functional farm. Several dogs and cats. A donkey that Rhea befriended. Flocks of sheep that we saw on a different hill each morning. And even a wild horse. Two out of the three mornings we were there, Rhea would be ready and out even before I started to wake myself into sense. She would be out there, feeding the donkey grass, or tending the sheep. She would be out there, without me worrying.
Isn’t that vacation?
(Read on: Later today, we are headed to the town of Volterra)
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