As part of a day tour by Very Tuscany Tours, we came to this quiet corner of Tuscany to have a look at an Italian winery, especially the Sangiovese grapes, and the Chianti produced here.
And what better way to sample the wine than to have a long leisurely lunch with matched wines. A very, very long lunch.
But first, a wander through the gardens to hone the appetite:
And a photo I recognize from many taken of the same building:
Then a tour of the wine cellar:
Then on to the most incredible and exquisite lunch and wine we have had. It was the highlight of our stay in Tuscany. Of course, we had our own private dining room:
And time to study the paintings and prints on the walls while we finished with coffee and a dessert wine.
And of course, more wine, just so we could remember the occasion.
This is what we saw driving along the Coquihalla Highway in Canada, a rather infamous stretch of road featured on the Discovery Channel, and yes, we saw a number of cars and trucks off the side of the road, and not in a good way
The road was iced over in place, and driving was difficult, but on the plus side the scenery was spectacular, and it was hard not to be distracted when driving.
But, inspiration for a story? It might go something like this:
…
Arty was adamant that he knew the best where man in the business.
That might gave been true if he was in the middle of the city where there were endless tests and turns that could be used to lost chasing police vehicles.
But that didn’t apply to the open road, and one that was think with ice and snow, even if it had recently been cleared.
But that wasn’t as bad as the fact that we had got free of the city, lost the pursuing cars, changed vehicles, and got away free.
All he had to fo was follow the road.
Except Arty had a temper, and getting stuck behind an old van going ever so slowly on the road, caused him to first blast them with horn, then start doing dangerous accelations up behind them, and then attempt to overtake on a bend in the road.
That might not have been so bad if there had not been an oncoming car, but there was.
Even that might not have been so bad if the car had not been a police vehicle.
But the real kicker: Arty lost control of the car and we went sailing off the edge of the road into a ravine, landing on soft ice which after a minute started cracking and then gave way.
The last place I wanted to be was to be sinking into a freezing cold river, but there we were, all frantically trying to get out.
Fortunately, I did, but not before I was soaking wet, and almost frozen. The rest didn’t make it.
This is one of those images that could be anywhere.
So, here’s the problem:
Ethan was reluctant to agree to go to the stag night, knowing firstly, that the others going were a bit too unruly when they had too many drinks, secondly, that they had to agree to not know where they were being taken by the bus, and thirdly, anything they saw or did had to remain completely confidential.
That was particularly the case when it came to the ‘stag’.
In that case, Ethan knew exactly what this night was going to be, hours of unrelenting debauchery.
And, since Ethan was the stag’s brother, and he was the best man, there was no way he could wriggle his way out of this one.
On top of that, Ethan had to promise the bride to be that he would not let her husband to be go too far. That statement, of course, was like a box full of hand grenades. He didn’t ask for a definition of too far.
So, seven sober, respectable, hard-working junior executives in suits that were worth more than Ethan’s annual salary boarded the bus.
What happened from that moment the bus drove off, until Ethan’s brother’s body was found floating face down in the river behind the resort, handcuffed to a naked girl in a rubber dinghy, barely alive from an overdose, was anyone’s guess, and Ethan’s worst nightmare.
Especially when he was the last one to see his brother, and the girl, alive.
And, no, this is not based on a real-life experience, though in recurring nightmares I’m the one floating fase down in the river.
This is what we saw driving along the Coquihalla Highway in Canada, a rather infamous stretch of road featured on the Discovery Channel, and yes, we saw a number of cars and trucks off the side of the road, and not in a good way
The road was iced over in place, and driving was difficult, but on the plus side the scenery was spectacular, and it was hard not to be distracted when driving.
But, inspiration for a story? It might go something like this:
…
Arty was adamant that he knew the best where man in the business.
That might gave been true if he was in the middle of the city where there were endless tests and turns that could be used to lost chasing police vehicles.
But that didn’t apply to the open road, and one that was think with ice and snow, even if it had recently been cleared.
But that wasn’t as bad as the fact that we had got free of the city, lost the pursuing cars, changed vehicles, and got away free.
All he had to fo was follow the road.
Except Arty had a temper, and getting stuck behind an old van going ever so slowly on the road, caused him to first blast them with horn, then start doing dangerous accelations up behind them, and then attempt to overtake on a bend in the road.
That might not have been so bad if there had not been an oncoming car, but there was.
Even that might not have been so bad if the car had not been a police vehicle.
But the real kicker: Arty lost control of the car and we went sailing off the edge of the road into a ravine, landing on soft ice which after a minute started cracking and then gave way.
The last place I wanted to be was to be sinking into a freezing cold river, but there we were, all frantically trying to get out.
Fortunately, I did, but not before I was soaking wet, and almost frozen. The rest didn’t make it.
This is one of those images that could be anywhere.
So, here’s the problem:
Ethan was reluctant to agree to go to the stag night, knowing firstly, that the others going were a bit too unruly when they had too many drinks, secondly, that they had to agree to not know where they were being taken by the bus, and thirdly, anything they saw or did had to remain completely confidential.
That was particularly the case when it came to the ‘stag’.
In that case, Ethan knew exactly what this night was going to be, hours of unrelenting debauchery.
And, since Ethan was the stag’s brother, and he was the best man, there was no way he could wriggle his way out of this one.
On top of that, Ethan had to promise the bride to be that he would not let her husband to be go too far. That statement, of course, was like a box full of hand grenades. He didn’t ask for a definition of too far.
So, seven sober, respectable, hard-working junior executives in suits that were worth more than Ethan’s annual salary boarded the bus.
What happened from that moment the bus drove off, until Ethan’s brother’s body was found floating face down in the river behind the resort, handcuffed to a naked girl in a rubber dinghy, barely alive from an overdose, was anyone’s guess, and Ethan’s worst nightmare.
Especially when he was the last one to see his brother, and the girl, alive.
And, no, this is not based on a real-life experience, though in recurring nightmares I’m the one floating fase down in the river.
This is countryside somewhere inside the Lamington National Park in Queensland. It was one of those days where the rain come and went…
We were spending a week there, in the middle of nowhere on a working macadamia farm in a cottage, one of four, recuperating from a long exhausting lockdown.
It was not cold, and we were able to sit out of the verandah for most of the day, watching the rain come and pass over on its way up the valley, listing to the gentle pitter-patter of the rain on the roof and nearby leaves.
But as for inspiration:
This would be the ideal setting for a story about life, failed romance, or a couple looking to find what it was they lost.
It could be a story about recovering from a breakdown, or a tragic loss, to be anywhere else but in the middle of dealing with the constant reminders of what they had.
It could be a safe house, and as we all know, safe houses in stories are rarely safe houses, where it is given away by someone inside the program, or the person who it’s assigned to give it away because they can’t do as they’re supposed to; lay low.
Then there’s camping, the great outdoors, for someone who absolutely hates being outdoors, or those who go hunting, and sometimes become the hunted.
This is countryside somewhere inside the Lamington National Park in Queensland. It was one of those days where the rain come and went…
We were spending a week there, in the middle of nowhere on a working macadamia farm in a cottage, one of four, recuperating from a long exhausting lockdown.
It was not cold, and we were able to sit out of the verandah for most of the day, watching the rain come and pass over on its way up the valley, listing to the gentle pitter-patter of the rain on the roof and nearby leaves.
But as for inspiration:
This would be the ideal setting for a story about life, failed romance, or a couple looking to find what it was they lost.
It could be a story about recovering from a breakdown, or a tragic loss, to be anywhere else but in the middle of dealing with the constant reminders of what they had.
It could be a safe house, and as we all know, safe houses in stories are rarely safe houses, where it is given away by someone inside the program, or the person who it’s assigned to give it away because they can’t do as they’re supposed to; lay low.
Then there’s camping, the great outdoors, for someone who absolutely hates being outdoors, or those who go hunting, and sometimes become the hunted.
As part of a day tour by Very Tuscany Tours, we came to this quiet corner of Tuscany to have a look at an Italian winery, especially the Sangiovese grapes, and the Chianti produced here.
And what better way to sample the wine than to have a long leisurely lunch with matched wines. A very, very long lunch.
But first, a wander through the gardens to hone the appetite:
And a photo I recognize from many taken of the same building:
Then a tour of the wine cellar:
Then on to the most incredible and exquisite lunch and wine we have had. It was the highlight of our stay in Tuscany. Of course, we had our own private dining room:
And time to study the paintings and prints on the walls while we finished with coffee and a dessert wine.
And of course, more wine, just so we could remember the occasion.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 