4 minutes reading‘
Tuscans admire and defend their lands. If they travel through Italy, they can learn about the beauty of other regions, but they are convinced that there is no place like Tuscany.
– Tuscany is a continent.
This is what Simone Carlotti, a friend of Montesiano, says after listening to his cousin talk about the beautiful beaches of Puglia. He listens to her respectfully, but when he disconnects, he becomes desperate to prove that where we are now, the small town of Talamone, on the banks of the Tyrrhenian River, is truly wonderful.
Puglia is beautiful, but there is no comparison.
In the distance you can see the island of Giglio, the “lily”, where tomorrow we will go by ferry from Porto Santo Stefano, in the municipality of Monte Argentario. Finally, the Tyrrhenian the sea Tuscan.
Before traveling, I make lists of places I want to go, and when I’m in the area, I’m halfway done. Montepulciano is left for the next trip. A few days passed until I was able to locate them; They are similar, but different: Montalcino, Montecciano, Monticello, Montepulciano. A maybe Of beauty.
I wonder what is happening on site that changes the layout. Such as when an area is zoomed in on a digital map: it opens up and shows places that were not present in the overall image or were there but could not be seen. In the transition from the plan made at home to being there, things happen, moments, the journey itself, and the time remaining.
We have a few hours to explore the island by motorbike. Once we arrive, the rental is closed. The neighbors say that the person who answers will return after a while. We are waiting. He’s not coming back. We are looking for another place. The ceremony was attended by two Naples residents who could have been friends of Maradona. One of those moments that can be called a delay and it is the personal experience and postcard that I will take with me. While waiting I discover another flavour Gelato: Figs and nuts –File and news-. If the rental takes a little longer, it doesn’t matter. I sit in the port, watching the tourists get off the ferry, breathing the sea air, recognizing the flavor of walnuts and bits of fig. I’m having fun.
In the afternoon, when it is time to return the motorcycle, the Neapolitans who would have been friends with Maradona will ask Simone, a bartender, for the “honest” Brunello.
-Which one can I buy?
Simone thinks for a few seconds and smiles, as if the answer wasn’t so simple, as if she had a lot to say. I know he can talk for hours about Brunello because it’s one of his passions. And he says:
– Barici. It is a wine from the Barici family. It has strength and elegance, and is produced on the best hill in Montalcino called Montosoli. Traditional, fruity, very good.
Giglio Island is a rise in the middle of the sea. We arrived by motorbike at Giglio Castello, where about a thousand people live, in a medieval neighborhood of narrow, winding streets, with stairs and walls with capers peeking out, and clothes drying in the sun. On a side street we found a table and a barbecue going out. Sunday lunch for a photo shoot by Marcos Lopez.
Back on the motorcycle, we passed another motorcycle with a trailer full of water cans and a sign reading: Porto l’acqua ma bevo vino (“I transport water, but I drink wine”). Before the port, turn into Caleta or a small bay for bathing. We walked along the rocks – I saw three lizards – until a strip of light sand appeared with enough room to spread out a tarp. It’s hot and the expected moment has arrived: the horse. Here I am, what a joy, I don’t want to go out. But after a while the ferry will leave and we have to go back. Piasseri Tirrino, I appreciate your temperature, thank you. I hope we see each other again.