On the way in the morning.
After breakfast, we walked from San Gimignano out into the countryside, heading west towards Volterra. Our path took us along the local roads for about half a mile before we turned into a field bordered by a vineyard. Our path gave us a number of excellent views back towards town. I was so concerned that I wasn’t going to get a good distance shot of town, that I bought a postcard to scan, but it looks like I won’t need it.
Angelica led us as our path wound down the hill along olive groves and open fields to a country lane at the bottom. We passed a small farm where the husband and wife were each shearing a sheep using hand shears. They told us that they were doing it for the comfort of the animal – the wool was to be discarded – as they raise lamb for meat. We walked along the valley road, which then lead us up the hill providing more views of San Gimignano. We turned left towards San Donato where we were to have lunch. Giovanni and the bus collected us at the end of this trail and drove us to a farmhouse where a fabulous spread awaited us.
On the way in the morning.
An ancient stone anchor decorating a yard.
A view of the landscape.
Looking down the rows of a vineyard.
A church on a hill.
Heading across the fields.
Wildflowers.
Marisa, Guillermo, Maria, and Pocho.
A tractor treating a vineyard with copper.
A farm building in a corner of the field.
Heading on in single file.
Jonathan heading into the olive grove.
This butterfly remained surprisingly still as I got within inches of it with the small camera.
Jonathan and Claire pause for a moment while the others go on.
Horse in the field, buildings on the ridge.
A metallic green bug on the petal of the flower. This is a crop of the next shot.
Angelica told us that the Italian name for this flower translated to 'girl with frizzy hair'.
The farm couple using hand-shears to trim their sheep.
Wildflowers.
Buildings on the the ridge above the orchard.
Wheat in the field.
A close-up of wheat.
Walking along the valley road.
Heading along the road.
More wildflowers.
Wildflowers.
Looking back across the fields and hills to San Gimignano.
Cherries.
This yellow flower has a name that Mr. Lubin should know.
The plowed field showing different colors as the soil dries after a rain.
Looking at the clouds on the horizon - rain on the way.
A baby vineyard.
Landscape framed by cypress.
Joanna, Ana, and Maria in front of Scotch broom.
There were sliced meats (including prosciutto of course), several dishes of marinated vegetables, spelt salad, pecorino cheese with honey, farm cheese with dried tomatoes, and Gorgonzola cheese. We had ample carafes of Chianti and Vernaccia on the table – wines produced on the farm – as were most of the vegetables. There was a pasta course following – one with a pomodoro sauce and the other with a pesto sauce. The dessert was a custard-filled tart (the custard was filled between layers of filo-like pastry) in celebration of Ana’s 50th birthday. Also served was the house grappa, which was amber in color, along with almond biscotti that are dunked in the grappa (very, very good!!).
Fattoria San Donato.
The lunch spread - wow!
But before we ate, a quick tour of the winery.
Ana's birthday cake.
Gianni delivering the cake to the table - Juan on his right, Pocho and Giovanni, the bus driver, to his left.
The multi-talented Pocho leading the singing.
Ana opens a birthday gift.
Pocho sketching the scene.
The front of the establishment was respendent with flowers.
A still life with demi-john and olive tree.
The village church.
Pocho pointing the way - Angelica pointing to Pocho.
A view of Castelvecchio - our afternoon destination.
Heading down the trail.
The iridescent beetles (just ignore what they are 'processing').
The blaze that marked our departure from the road.
Jonathan on the trail through the woods.
Angelica, under the orange umbrella, leading the way to the ruins of the tower.
The ruined tower.
Claire taking a snap of Jonathan as he approaches the ruins of the church.
The interior of the church - the faded frescos are inside the arched recess.
The outcroppings above the church door held a gutter that led to a cistern. Water was limited in hill-top towns.
The walk after lunch was more challenging with more changes in elevation. The walk would take us to the ruins of Castelvecchio, an outpost of medieval San Gimignano that was used to keep an eye on the neighbors (Volterra specifically). The town was one of the last hit by the Black Death, and (according to legend) when neighboring towns found out, the sent troops to enforce a quarantine. Several months later, when they thought everyone was dead, a reconnaissance patrol found the town empty – the residents had fled somehow. When I asked about the legend, either Gianni or Angelica (I forgot who I had asked) told me that it was probably just a story; there wasn’t much evidence to support the legend.
The trail to the ruins led down into a protected valley, through woods where the microclimate was cooler at the bottom and vegetation was different – the actual temperature didn’t change much as the rain had started and there were occasional rolls of thunder although I saw no lightning. The rain got a bit heavier although very little was making it to the ground through the trees. It wasn’t until we came out of the woods at the ruins that I pulled out the umbrella. (It wasn’t raining hard enough to don my rain jacket.) The trail had brought us to the top of the ridge opposite our origin where we could see a couple of the ruined towers. We had now reached one of those towers and we entered the abandoned town, walking down the main street where centuries of vegetation and weather were claiming the buildings. Our ultimate goal was the church where faded fragments of the frescos were still visible.
I had some technical difficulties here as my big camera was in the Ziploc bag to protect it from the rain, and the little waterproof camera started giving me a low battery signal. So after limited shots of the ruins, both cameras were put away and we resumed our hike out to here the bus waited to take us back to San Gimignano.
Walking back up into town from the bus depot, we both took showers and washed the rest of the mud off our boots and lay down to rest our feet. At 8 pm the bells rang out and the flock of crows, that spend their days soaring among the towers, made a mass exodus of town with their raucous calls making a notable racket. The flow of crows descended into the valley and seemed to disappear in the gloaming – an avian rush hour.
We sought a simple trattoria for dinner as lunch had been of prodigious portions, but got gelato at the award winning gelateria across the square from the hotel. I got a raspberry/rosemary gelato that was delicious.