The villa that the hotel is housed in is from the fourteenth century, predating the Medici era. The tower on the property is from the thirteenth century. And it looks like it too. Grady and I did the math. This joint is going on a thousand years old. Kind of redefines 'old school' for us. Hard to describe the place. The first thing that comes to mind is a bunch of 15th century scholars kickin it in the giant main dining room with a bunch of feudal lords. There are frescoes and swords and shields all over the place. Will post more pics later. Pablo would be molto felice here: the lock on our room takes a skeleton key. A really heavy one, too. Just the kind he loved. Just the kind that we placed in his coffin.
The Apennine Mountains ride up all around us. Looking at these lush, romantic mountains—as opposed to the rugged, sunburned monsters above Los Angeles—makes me miss my biciclette! Look at those things! This region, this country is cradle of cycling. For now, I will have to stare at them in appreciation. We are on a family trip, nothing to do with climbing mountains on two wheels.
For dinner this evening, we'll walk to the trattoria at the bottom of the hill. I'm hoping everyone will be happy to walk back up. I counted the switchbacks when the taxi drove us up here. There are six. If I can't hammer those babies on a bike, I'll take something even better: a romantic post-gastro walk with my wife and son.