Castello Vicchiomaggio

We boarded back on the bus and began heading back down the mountain. Someone in front of us put their hands in the air and started a trend; it was as though we were all sitting in a roller coaster. Winding down the mountain with all its sharp turns and singing Dean Martin songs. It was a night, I think, I will always remember. Perhaps I don't mind Grappa after all.

	Castello Vicchio-maggio Thursday, May 30th
		It was soon time to board the bus again. Everyone enjoyed their free time in Florence.
The drive to the castle was beautiful. We climbed the winding roads up the mountain lined with Cypress trees. There were beautiful vineyards as far as you could see. The castle grounds were well-kept. The driveway was lined with huge pots of geraniums. There were benches for sitting in the garden where Leonardo Da Vinci planned two trees. We entered the courtyard through tall wooden double doors. There were 2 huge hydrangea bushes, filled with beautiful blue flowers. We were served wine, which was made at the castle, and wonderful antipasti. Looking above the court yard you could see balconies lined with beautiful window boxes full of flowers. I stood there thinking, its not on the water, but I could call this home.

	Dinner was served in a large room. We were served the same meal that Catherine di Medici had at her wedding. They served an asparagus dish that was wonderful. Dave (who hates asparagus) had 2 servings! The main course was wild boar. It was very rich and very good. I had “un po” of everything. Kathy called the waiter “The Scary Waiter”. He turned out to be the same waiter we had at the Sheraton ~ The man that never smiled ~ By the end of the evening, I had him smiling. Someone from the group had brought a bottle of Grappa and gave everyone a glass. Grappa began, as a cheap, high-alcohol drink for peasants in the wine-making regions of Europe. The wealthy landowners got the juice for their wine, which they sold at prices too high for the farmers. So the farmers, needing some sort of relief after a hard day in the fields, made do with what Elisabetta Nonino, representing the fifth generation of the five-generation Nonino Distillery, describes as the ``leftovers'' _ the pomace (or vinacce): pressed fruit, skins and stems _ which they distilled into grappa. I personally don’t care for Grappa. It’s very strong and probably better suited to remove paint than to drink. The wine they make at the castle flowed freely, an excellent Chianti Classico.



Dave and I took a break from the group and walked outside and sat along the wall. He looked so happy. I wish I could capture this moment and make time stand still. He looks completely at peace with life. What a romantic setting. It was dark out now and the vineyards below took on a magical twinkle from the thousands of fireflies. At the foot of the mountain was a main road. If you use your imagination a little, the cars below sounded like waves washing onto shore. Back inside, we were served dessert. Dinner in Italy is always served in courses and the meal can go on for hours. Before we were to leave, Cathy arranged for a surprise. We had a visit from the castle ghost. The lights flickered, sounds of a thunderstorm played and a ghost appeared on the wall. We all had a good laugh.
We boarded back on the bus and began heading back down the mountain. Someone in front of us put their hands in the air and started a trend; it was as though we were all sitting in a roller coaster. Winding down the mountain with all its sharp turns and singing Dean Martin songs. It was a night, I think, I will always remember. Perhaps I don't mind Grappa after all.