Chianti (without fava beans and liver)

I haven't blogged in awhile, which can only mean one thing, I've been too busy having a great time. I've just had what I have officially deemed the "best day" of my trip - that slippery, elusive phrase that all travellers want to say aloud but don't. Why? Fear of ruining the moment or eventually being topped and then sounding dramatic and superfluous I guess. But I've ruined my chances of being too dramatic a long time ago, so, yes, this was the official best day of my trip.

I met some wonderful people in Florence. No young, partying Aussies. No spoiled rich kids. No obnoxious philistines. First, there's J.J., the philosphy student from Toronto who spent 3 days in an inhumane Greek jail after having his passport stolen. He is in love with life and has brought a fresh light back into my trip. There's Brett, the kind, genuine lawyer from Sydney with a listening ear and a great sense of direction. Then Heather, the socialogist/criminologist from Winnipeg with an independent spirit and a deep sense of loyalty and friendship. And Amy, the wide-eyed first-time traveller from a small village in the north of England, with a sweet spirit and a contagious laugh.

The first day, we walked the city of Florence and checked out the museums. We oohed and ahhed over Michaelangelo's David, Boticelli's Birth of Venus, and lots of other moving Renaissance art. We frolicked through the cobblestoned streets, gazed longingly at the picaresque bridges and churches, ate lots of gelatto, and visited the home of Fydor Dostoevski. All this was punctuated with some of the best conversation I've had on this trip. These people are really seeking to experience life. They want adventure and meaning, and I felt so grateful to finally be around some kindred spirits.

So yesterday, we set out on our great adventure. We rented a car (an absolutely adorable, pale yellow, stick shift, Fiat) and drove into the Chianti wine region surrounding Florence. We had no idea where to go or what we would see, but we knew that our company would be enough. I volunteered to be the driver, since you all know how much I love to drive. My city girl came out in full force as I swerved and swore just like a real live Italian, narrowly missing bikers and yelling at busses like I wasn't one eightieth their size. We drove up through the most breathtaking hills, covered in endless rows of grape vines and fields of sunflowers in full bloom. We stumbled upon this tiny winery tucked into one of the hills, and drove in to check it out. The owner came in from the field to give us a free wine tasting, where he poured several liberal tastes of their best wines. He loved having visitors, and chatted away with us about everything "under the tuscan sun" (it had to be said somewhere - come on). Then we bought a couple bottles, ordered some antipasti from their restaurant, and sat on their balcony, which overlooked their wine fields, stretching in every direction. Finally, we made our way back, while singing to a mix of bad American pop songs, Italian opera, and whatever else we could find on the radio. We returned the car, and went out to see Batman at the local English cinema. The evening ended with some more wine and great conversation back at the hostel.