Day Nine – It Got Hotter

After receiving our daily maps and instructions from Tim, we hit the road at the relatively early hour of 10:30, pointing Francesca back in the direction this time of Barbaresco. We got slightly lost again in San Diamano for the second time, as the road through the centre was still closed to pedestrians. There’s an old saying...something about those who cannot remember the past...

Despite the minor directional challenges, we made it to the town of Barbaresco in fairly good time. Francesca was much more comfortable since I discovered I could lower the seat – apparently whoever had it before me was very short. Typical that it took me until the penultimate day to realize that having my hair brush the roof wasn’t how the designers of this particular model had intended me to drive.
We parked Italian-style when we arrived in Barbaresco – up against a wall on the side of the road, not taking into account traffic patterns or parking regulations. To be fair, there were a row of cars parked there, not just us, but it still didn’t look particularly legal. On the other hand, it did seem normal, so we went with it.

Barbaresco turned out to be a quaint little town with a ruined ancient tower at the top of the hill with panoramic views over the valley below, a church with a loud bell tower, and loads of little bars and cafes. We hiked up the steep incline (okay, sauntered up the slight hill) to take in the views, then decided that we were thirsty. As we’d sampled Barolo in the Barolo valley earlier, what could be better than sipping Barbaresco in the village of Barbaresco?

We’d heard that one of the local wine shops poured slightly more generous glasses than the other, and had a brilliant view from their patio, so of course we stopped in there. The old guy running the tasting at Boffa winery was very excited to have us, and spoke high-speed enthusiastic Italian at us non-stop while pointing at his wine description folder and the bottles arranged around it. We adopted our normal strategy for high-speed enthusiastic Italian – grinning and nodding appreciatively at every pause.

This recommended and effective strategy resulted in us being sat down at one of the tables on the patio, two very large glasses of wine being placed in front of us, along with a fairly large bowl of cheese and a container of those skinny bread sticks that seem to accompany everything food and/or wine related around here.

The wine was almost as good as the view, and after sampling the two varieties on offer (initially the 2006 vintage, but after seeing how much we’d enjoyed it, the old guy insisted that we try the 2005 as well), we were forced to buy a bottle. We spent quite a bit of time sipping the wine and just relaxing, soaking up the scenery and the heat, which seemed to be steadily building, along with the humidity.
After lingering about as long as we could, we walked back down the hill to the car, which had become a little oven. I opened the door and the wave of heat which poured out forced me back a step – we had to open all the doors to let it cool off for a bit before we could get inside. When we finally did, the thermostat in the car read 39°C – blooming HOT. As we got driving, it dropped to 36°C which was a bit better, although still hotter than I think I’ve ever felt it in London.

It was about 1pm at this point and we were both feeling a bit peckish, so we drove to a nearby restaurant called Rabaya. For no apparent reason, we were the only ones there, which was odd. It was a little out of the way, but the food was excellent and fairly reasonably priced. We went for the four mixed antipasti, then we shared a bowl of slightly red gnocchi in an asparagus sauce – a bit odd, but actually quite tasty.

Lunch taken care of, we hit the road again, mindful of the large black clouds gathering in the distance. The heat seemed more oppressive and I’m sure the humidity had jumped again – perfect conditions for a classic thunder and lightning storm. We drove towards Neive, expecting the skies to open above us at any moment.

They didn’t, and we walked around Neive for a little while, taking a few photos and generally poking about the place. There didn’t seem to be a whole lot going on in town on Sunday afternoon, and after a fairly short while we got back in the car and headed for our third stop of the day, the oddly named town of Mango.

Mango turned out to be actually quite difficult to find, but after a few false starts we made it up the top of the hill and found a place to park. We were immediately underwhelmed by Mango. Nothing seemed to be open other than a slightly dodgy cafe filled with local old guys who stared at us every time we walked past. We’d been told about the enoteca in Mango being particularly good so we thought we’d give that a go. The guy who was supposed to be working there was more interesting in talking to his girlfriend who was visiting (or at least to a girl who he possibly hoped would be his girlfriend, at least for a little while) and thus more or less ignored us. We looked at the very odd art in the back of the room and left.

We had hopes of finding another bar, other than the one in the parking lot with the old guy. In our efforts for liquid refreshment, we spent a while wandering around Mango looking for a likely location, but were ultimately disappointed. We got back in the car and started driving back to Asti, to enjoy our bottle of Barbaresco on the balcony.

Dinner tonight was to be served at Villa Sampaguita, cooked by Rina for our delectation. We went downstairs at 7pm and meet up with Sunil and his wife (the other guests at the B&B) and chatted for a bit (taking some time to inspect the geese, the rabbit, and the chickens) before dinner was served.

The food was excellent, much better than I’d expected. We started with an antipasti dish of grilled aubergine with fresh tomato, olive oil, and pine nuts as one course, and grilled peppers with the local tuna sauce as the other option. That was followed by ravioli filled with some sort of green filling (I’m pretty sure there was some sort of swiss chard type vegetable in it, as well as a bit of some sort of soft cheese. We then had chicken poached in white wine with olives and sun-dried tomato, finished off finally with homemade semifreddo.

All delicious, and all served with glasses of Tim’s homemade organic wine, produced from grapes harvested in the vineyard on the property.
Despite a few rumbled of thunder in the distance and a couple of very large drops of rain, the weather held out. I’d been hoping for the drama of a full lightning storm, which would have at least cleared the haze from the sky, but no such luck. On the other hand, it’s becoming summer in London, which means a few more months of cold and drizzle, so that’s something to look forward to when we get home.

Tomorrow is our last day in Italy for this trip, and neither of us are looking forward to going home. Beyond not wanting to go back to work, we’re both enjoying our time here too much. Tomorrow we have more vineyard visits and probably a tasty lunch planned before our early evening flight back to London. Should be a good day.