It’s time to ring the spring bell, frolic in the fields and smell, at long long last, the hope and optimism of warmer weather .
It’s time to open windows, throw off the heavy duvets, plant your vases with vibrant geraniums, and dust off your outside furniture.
In short, winter is over.
Big smiles and popping of prosecco all round.
Sitting in the garden in a balmy 27 degrees, the theatre of nature blooming before my eyes, was pure miraculous magic. Tweeting birds, fluttering and busy, the lime green of newly born leaves, the cherry and apricot blossom, pink and white fluffs on previously bare branches, the grass verdant, the front door wide open, a little music, a coffee, a snooze.
Earlier today, I persuaded my bosomest buddy, an ex Uni pal from Darkest Londinium, and a frequent visitor, to accompany me on a walk round our local town of utterly perfect Cortona. I’d coaxed her gently to relinquish her garden deck chair at home for a little light exercise and the promise of a good glass of crispy white and a truffle and prosciutto panino in the town’s most laid back enoteca.
So we parked the car and took a stroll up to the Medieval Fortezza and hung over the thick walls and looked over to the spectacular view of Lake Trasimeno and out out out across the whole Valdichiana. It’s high up there and the fields and lines of cypress spread before us, and I honestly had to pinch myself at my sheer good fortune of having grown up here, living like a local, being pretty much Italian in the way life reflects the rhythm of countryside.
I’ve been here, in this gorgeous context, for nigh on 20 years, and whilst life, well, is life, holding the same problems and obstacles wherever you are, there is something supremely magical at the simplicity of the Italian approach to good living.
So, as if to celebrate that very thing, we stumbled back along the windy roads, past Bramasole, the home restored lovingly by author Frances Mayes, and depicted in her novel Under The Tuscan Sun ( spoiler , there’s a new film with Susan Sarandon), and where she too found her Tuscan idyll, to our little enoteca. We were welcomed with open arms, to a table outside, natch, by the ebullient Daniele, and we sat and watched our town come alive over our lunchtime feast. Hibernating locals emerged from winter darkness and appeared smiling in the soft blue, shops dared to put their wares on display. Shutters were opened, and all over the main street, the Rugapiana, was a feeling of intense industry in preparation for the blossoming summer.
Sound idyllic? Sound like your bag? Do you fancy a slice of our Dolce Vita?
Come and be part of the WoW Sun Women Only Gang. We are good fun. We laugh, we banter, and we’ll teach you to live like locals!
If authentic Italian life is what you seek, then give us a call.
We are WoW.
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