Smacked in the Face with Grapes
We arrive to Il Falconiere cloaked in the darkness of a September night, the air fragrant and anticipatory. By morning, the pomegranate, pear and apple trees reveal themselves, their bountiful fruit kissing bedskirts of lavender bushes. A rooster’s crow punctuates the mist - live music floats up the hillside, Sunday church bells ring and a flock of swallows alight with birdsong soar across the valley.
All from my terrace. This was a good decision.
So begins a week in Tuscany: three nights at Il Falconiere Relais & Spa just ten minutes outside of Cortona, three nights in the near-perfectly preserved medieval town of Certaldo Alto, and two concluding in Florence.
Back to the first morning: Martin, unaware of the splendors that await, innocently suggested I skip breakfast and catch up on sleep (long travel day prior, with a missed connection in Heathrow and a reroute through Vienna). I, however (having had my eye on this particular property for years), am acutely aware of what breakfast entails. Or so I thought…
Turning the intricate handle of our carved wooden door, I am instantly smacked in the face with grapes. Vibrant vines dilute my pupils: floor-to-ceiling windows in the frescoed corridor reveal yellow-green leaves aglow in the morning sunshine and abundant with their velvety purple harvest. Technically I haven’t even left my room yet.
Breakfast is served in the atrium, and no amount of research can prepare you. It is at first visual - the initial impression of this glass-enclosed Italian paradise looking upon Cortona and the Tuscan valley below. Handmade ceramic orbs, in varying natural patterns born from garden and sea, adorn each delicately-set table. Fine bone china tea cups and saucers in the most resplendent white tulip pattern. But wait…there goes a set in red, and then yellow, and orange. Floral plates stacked of a separate collection from the same brand (which I know now as Taitu Milano, and am wishing wedding china were still a thing). Farm tables displaying an array of pastries, jams and preserves of a seemingly endless variety: fig, clementine, cherry, orange, strawberry, raspberry…I could go on. Scents: espresso, caffe latte, flaky buttery pastries galore. And finally, taste. The fresh juices are the first to pass my lips: a rainbow smorgasbord of glass carafes, including such unexpectedly delicious ingredients like artichoke and fennel. Even the scrambled eggs in the warming trays were a rich golden delight - straight from the property’s “Eggscelsior Hotel” chicken coop, the complete opposite of your standard liquid-y reconstituted powder. There are cheeses behind glass…and not homogenous slices of a nondescript nature. We’re talking bufalo mozzarella. Varietals of the region’s reining Pecorino. And bleu (which I don’t actually like but nobody’s perfect). Audibly, I can’t recall any music playing but honestly I probably blacked out from happiness at this point.
Next on the agenda…pool time. Pools, rather. There are three on property and I Goldilocks them all. Our room overlooks the bar-side pool - cocktails made-to-order under a grapevine pergola by Il Falconiere’s resident mixologist, who curated the menu herself. There’s also the spa pool, yours and yours alone with a reservation in advance. And a short stroll up fruit tree alley leads you to the hilltop pool overlooking the olive trees and vineyards.
Cortona beckons, and arriving in time for the sunset to paint the ancient stone and brick scarlet is a spiritually rewarding experience. So are the €10 pastas. Fettucine, pappardelle, tagliolini - "fatto in casa a mano", light as air and melting in your mouth, coated with silky cinghiale (wild boar) ragu.
CERTALDO ALTO
If not for the Airbnb listing that caught my eye, I may have remained unaware of this enchanting hilltop town 90 minutes from Cortona. Our budget didn’t stretch to a week-long hotel stay, so I balanced it with Airbnb - this“La casa torre di Marcello” at 1/5th of the hotel’s nightly rate. Slightly deflated in the knowledge that the best (lodging) is in fact not yet to come, we depart Il Falconiere for Certaldo Alto, with a long lunch in Montepulciano on the way. Our abode awaits atop the winding road we ascend at dusk, crossing through old city walls guarding centuries past. Another beautiful wooden door to be opened with the turn of an intricate key, another promising start. A black and white photo of the owner’s grandparents hangs in the stairwell - a smiling couple holding their dog in front of the now-recognizable entrance. What the apartment may lack in hotel panache, it immediately makes up for in charm, taste, and distinctiveness (an actual medieval tower across three levels). A thoughtful welcome package greets us - eggs, milk, bread, jam. The refrigerator door matches the custom kitchen cabinetry. Hand-painted sugar, coffee and tea jars contain items as promised. Lace curtains adorn the windows, the bed linens are of enviable quality and pattern, and the shower wall is what can only be described as a ceramic tapestry. Fixtures are top-notch. Only the air conditioning remote is missing. I message our responsive host, who informs me “My mom took it as she thought is not hot anymore.” Not to worry, mama lives downstairs and appeared at the door moment later (in her apron - she was making pesto), remote in hand. As always, mama was right - we ultimately did not need the AC!
It’s nearing 9 p.m. in this quiet town, but one of the higher-end restaurants, Ristorante L'Antica Fonte, is still serving dinner. The food is (of course) excellent, and the al fresco ambience 10/10. Come time for our passeggiata, we stroll down Via Giovanni Boccaccio, the main passageway and epicenter of the medieval town. There’s a funicular at the western end that connects to the newer (18th century) city below; anchoring the eastern end is the formidable Palazzo Pretorio and in between, sights include more than one museum, a 13th century church, sculpture gardens, and a surprising number of restaurants given Certaldo Alto’s relatively small size.
Perusing our host’s local recommendations over a fresh moka pot on the balcony the next morning, the sentence “take a dip in the refreshing cool blue waters of the Val d’Elsa River” jumps off the page. Amidst the 90-degree September heat wave, this is an attractive alternative to roaming city streets in the midday sun. Porchetta sandwiches in hand (procured from the panineria downstairs) and 40 minutes later, we arrive at…a commercially developed area. Did I enter the wrong destination? I double check the map but no, this is the entrance. We follow the signs along the main road’s sidewalk and duck down a steep set of stairs, descending into a fern gully hidden beneath the tree tops. The river reveals herself - cool, blue and refreshing as promised. Following the trail a bit farther, we reach a waterfall tumbling over eroded rock formations into a deep grotto. The whole scene is more akin to New Zealand than Tuscany, and we spend an hour or so frolicking in nature’s bounty among fellow water nymphs.
With the heat of the day behind us, we explore nearby San Gimignano, though the narrow streets and piazzas are scores busier than Cortona and Montepulciano so we don’t stay too long. Our more exclusive hamlet awaits at the end of one of the most scenic 1/2 hour drives in Tuscany, culminating in a fairytale-like approach to Certaldo Alto from a new perspective…just in time for Palazzo Pretorio to turn into Sunset Tower golden hour.
We wander into the bar of another restaurant on “the strip”, intending to enjoy a quick limoncello night cap. “Please, make yourself comfortable outside!” the owner beckons. “You must meet Mr. Bird!” It was steak night at the establishment, and the few remaining customers were lingering over drinks. crusted and seared to perfection over large charcoal grills. British couple - Henry and Shauna - steak night.
Villa Il Pozzo - “fortune favors the brave”; hosting a group of 40; 12 euros rose plus aperitivo. The view - no highways, no warehouses
Divino Di Chianti - best lasagna (9 euro); Abbey of San Michele Arcangelo a Passignano
Florence - Bookended by dramatic arrivals and departures:
gold, not on the Ponte Vecchio
Departure: No taxi despite pre-arranged through the official channels
Tax refund
