The move from the main road to the dirt road is sudden, and the descent along the hill’s slope is unexpected. In just a few seconds, you feel as if you have dived into a sea of an uncommon color. The snaking line of the horizon is made up of hills alternating green vineyards and brown clay, coming one after the other between little streams of grass. After the last turn into that strange desert, the Il Moro farm emerges, nestled in the heart of the Crete Senesi area.
When we first saw the main house, I thought that time had not been easy on it, though it still had all its elegance. Bricks and stone ashlars shaped a simple, old architecture, common in this corner of Tuscany, with an open loggia on the first floor in a nod to Florence’s Renaissance palazzi. Two massive oak trees stood like guards to the north and south, and on the two back sides, soaring cypress trees were scattered like back-up sentinels. We were welcomed by a giant fig tree offering its sweet fruit, and we fell in love with the place on the spot.
I was with my husband, or actually my ex-husband, who had lived in Tuscany for a while and to whom I was still bound by deep affection and friendship. Indeed, we were so in tune that there on the Il Moro farm, both of our immediate reactions were to do a quick calculation: the many hectares of land around it would be enough to plant new vineyards and go back to making wine together and sharing that adventure that bound our families. We couldn’t resist the pull, and a few days later Il Moro was ours.
Country life and dynamic energy, and I think of Vivaldi’s Madness.