Road Trippin’ – Volterra, Tuscany, Italy

By Ian Cobb

By the time we left Castiglion Fiorentino for Volterra, we were becoming ‘adept’ at driving in Tuscany. Six days of toodling around the countryside with a few forays into small cities and facing Zona a Traffico Limitato (ZLT) terrors had me settled and confident in the driver’s seat.

Honestly, it was GPS, both in the vehicle and Carrie’s phone, that saved my bacon – every time I got behind the wheel. Without GPS, driving in Italy would be far more arduous and slower. The constant tailgating would grate much more, too.

It was a lovely drive to Volterra and the approach to the fortified hillside town of 10,400 residents was sweeping and blustery. After lunch (where a gust of wind blew over a glass of wine) and a stroll through the town, we began to make our way to our next Air B&B – a 15th century farmhouse surrounded by olive groves, looking uphill to Volterra.

Carrie set the GPS and off we went about seven kms into the country out of Volterra, straight to a gated driveway. Looking through the gate we saw a gorgeous Tuscan villa with a pool and grew excited at the prospect of staying there for four nights.

A mostly naked little man walked to the gate. A tight groin sack spared us a full frontal yeek as he opened the gate. I drove in and got out and we proceeded to become completely lost.

For the first time since we’d been in Italy (17 days at this point) we ran into a language barrier. The little man (Captain Nutsack forever after) couldn’t speak a lick of English but we quickly learned his was not the place we were to stay at.

He animatedly pointed up hill, back toward Volterra and with frantic jabbing and waving of arms, attempted to tell us we had to find a different road – ‘up that-a-way.’ He did his best to be helpful, I thought with appreciation and later realized he was telling us exactly where to go (in a nice way).

Off we went, back to a road I thought he directed us to and we ventured up and soon realized we were lost. We spent the next hour driving around, hoping to find a sign. Alas. Our vehicle GPS screwed us, as did a vague address and directions to the AirB&B.

After an hour I started thinking we’d been scammed and fumed. Carrie then used her phone GPS, which sent us off down the highway away from Volterra and after about 12 km we were directed uphill, on a road leading back to Volterra. After another batch of kilometres we passed a lane bearing the name of the road we’d been searching for! It was narrow country lane and we followed it downhill for about four kilometres to its end, next to a fancy country villa with vehicles bearing English licence plates.

An English lady greeted us and promptly told us we were at the wrong place. There was one final property, gated, at the end of the road and we asked, “could that be it?” There were no addresses clear on most of the properties.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think they do anything like that (rent the property),” the lady said.

“Fuck,” I screamed inside my head.

And then there was a buzz, a clank and a whir and the gate opened. A man on a scooter emerged and as luck had it, it was the fellow we were supposed to meet. Providence and Carrie’s phone GPS did us good.

The property owner said he’d given up on us and was leaving as w were late for our set rendezvous. Had we not arrived exactly when we did, issues would have arisen. Feelings would have been hurt. Insults would have been hurled.

As it was, the accommodation was rustic but beautifully set. So that was our welcome to Volterra.

I happily report it got better after that.

Volterra, about 90 km southwest of Florence, stems from Etruscan roots 3,000 plus years ago and time’s march left constant markers in the quaint, friendly little city.

The town features a central Palazzo dei Priori with medieval frescoes and a bell tower offering expansive views, as does nearby Casa Torre Toscano.

Nearby are the remains of the Etruscan Acropolis, which stood from 1500 BC until AD 1472, when Florence conquered Volterra. The Medici Fortress built after Florentine conquest is now a jail. A Roman Theater complex includes the ruins of 3rd-century baths.

What really resonated with us was the day-to-day pace of the town and area – slow and steady but purposeful. The bonus of staying near Volterra was seeing it all times of day. Being in Tuscan hillside towns at night is completely different than during the daytime when loads of tourists slurp gelato and stumble about palming alabaster trinkets.

An every-evening tradition in most areas of Italy, and certainly so in Tuscany, is the after-dinner stroll and gab session on the streets – called la passeggiata. Seated in a street-side café, sipping a Peroni and pinot grigio, we watched the street suddenly fill with people.

I watched as an elderly man stepped outside and leaned against a wall. He looked lonely and I took his photo (I was 60 or so feet way). A few minutes later, I realized he wasn’t lonely. He was dutifully waiting for his wife who emerged onto the street and they sauntered off arm-on-arm – an Italian love story.

In the end, we learned the property we stayed at was likely only a couple of hundred metres directly uphill from Captain Nutsack’s place but the extremely hilly country, worked and carved for thousands of years, meant the long drive around to access it. The GPS was right; to a point.

Glad we found it, though!

Lead image: The view from the kitchen window in our 15th century farmhouse accommodation near Volterra.  Photos by Ian Cobb and Carrie Schafer

Article Share