Apologies to my dedicated Blog aficionados, my reports have been scarce recently – hey, I’m on vacation!
We have progressed to our third locale, still in northern Umbria – Agriturismo Preggio. We are situated in remote
country parsed with olive orchards, small flocks of sheep, wooded hills, ancient hill towns, tobacco fields along the Niccone (Nicotine) River and idyllic farm houses, some of which are populated by the occasional rocker, movie star, or other fortunate soul (Sting? Ralph Fiennes?)
Agriturismo Preggio is owned by Bruno and Elena, who sold their tech business at the top of the Internet bubble and bought into a little slice of organic heaven just south of the Tuscany line. They have hundreds of acres of olives, fruit trees, honey, grapes, all manor of vegetables, grains, herbs, flowers, fowl, 3 giant white shepherd dogs, and a huge installation of solar panels that allows them to feed the grid for profit. (One of these cane is a refugee from a neighboring farm, where he tended sheep and escaped to a life of leisure)
Elena’s skills extend to cheese and soap making, as well being an extraordinary cook.
Again we are the solo guests and have lots of time to chat, learn about life in the Italian hills, and explore by foot and Panda. Actually, we seem to be the only tourists in the region (not a complaint), and each day brings unexpected delights and an unfolding narrative of regional life.
We came upon a old restaurante along a dusty road in the twisting vineyard hills that was being restored by a group of “ragazzi,” (they looked liked reformed rockers). When we walked into the chaotic scene of paint and refinished table tops, with a ghetto blaster hoarsely blaring italian pop. They told us in broken Inglas that they had no food and would open in a month. We noticed they had the wood burining oven fired-up and were preparing to treat themselves to corn crusted pizza with aubergine and mozzorala – Let’s just say we charmed our way into having them set up their best table on the patio and serived up 2 fabluous pizzas, and a plate of cheese and sliced pear – without ever discussing menu or price. We paid them with the last piece of folding money I had in my pocket.
Just the grace of the highway…
