By Fyllis Hockman
Wandering the hilly, narrow cobblestone streets in our home base of Montalcino, Italy, a medieval city of interlocking passageways, steps and alleyways that curve around, through, behind and beyond the main square, I reminded myself that I was walking through history that spans 800 years.
When my husband and I stopped for lunch, I ordered a glass of the house wine. When a bottle arrived at the table and I protested, I was told to drink what I wanted and that I would be charged accordingly. Not a bad system!
Later, sipping more wine - this was Italy, after all — on our apartment balcony that overlooked the vineyards from whose grapes it was made, we debated whether to eat in or go out for another Florentine steak. The fact that our apartment was housed in a structure dating back to the 13th century on a farm boasting one of the best-known vineyards in Italy was a bonus.
Welcome to Untours, a program that offers tourists the opportunity not to be tourists. It flies participants to one or more cities in almost a dozen European countries, inundates them with information and puts them up in apartments for two to four weeks to live like the locals.
It's a way to get to know a destination in a manner that would never happen on a conventional tour, and it's ideal for those who have the time and interest to explore their surroundings at leisure and in depth. And they provide the wherewithal to do it: Rental cars or bus and rail passes are part of the package.
Those who joined my husband, Victor, and me on the southern Tuscany adventure were intrepid travelers who wanted to focus on the destination, not the details. Cathy Gerdes, a veteran "untourist" from Durham, North Carolina, explained: "We love the philosophy of Untours. They help you make all the arrangements, give you the inside scoop on what to do, and then leave you on your own to explore and discover."
We were learning about our neighborhood but on our terms. We could rise early or sleep in, sightsee or stroll around town, cook in or eat out. And whatever the choice, we returned to our apartment, a much roomier and warmer ambience than any hotel could provide.
The town of steps, turns and back alleys that initially seemed daunting to navigate soon became negotiable. We mastered shortcuts to the center of town, got to know local vendors and began to feel secure enough to risk getting lost on purpose. The sense of pride I felt when giving some harried American tourists directions was bordering on smug.
Each day brought a new adventure, often beginning with a visit to any one of several nearby hill towns, which indeed come by that designation honestly. One day it was the renaissance city of Pienza, known for its harmony of ambience and structure, a town for which the word "charming" was invented. Another day it was San Gimignano, claiming more intact towers than any other hill town. Or tiny Murlo, population 17, which more resembled a movie set of a 13th-century village than reality. And then there was historic Volterra, flaunting evidence of Etruscan, Roman, medieval and renaissance influences.
A visit to Abbadia San Salvatore introduced us to a newly renovated eighth-century abbey — but the recent restorations took place in the 15th century. This sense of time warp is ever present. The present and the long-ago past coexist harmoniously as one can travel back and forth through multiple centuries within a couple of hours of doing day-to-day errands
Whatever the village, we walked off the main square to see where the people really lived. From 13th-century corridors an arm's length wide flanked on both sides by two- to three-story stone apartments we eavesdropped on venues teeming with life. The back streets appeared even more historic and colorful than the already enthralling but more touristy central piazza.
Every town has its church dating from the 1200s, museum celebrating its art, its de rigueur duomo, fortress and possibly Etruscan tomb. I rarely went into any of them because for me the wonder of traveling is to be found wandering the streets. And in Tuscany especially this involved stopping at a cafe for a cappuccino or a scoop of gelato.
Out in the Tuscan countryside almost every bend produces another "Wow!" moment. There is an incredibly vast expanse of rolling hills, a patchwork quilt of vineyards, olive trees and wheat fields dipping into valleys and clinging to hillsides. The greens, browns and reddish golds, depending upon the season and the crop, are accentuated by stately slender cypress trees that guard by long driveways leading up to stone villas.
Looking out across the valleys, I recognized that there's something different about the light — it seems richer, more intense. A young artist we met who was painting her way through Tuscany characterized it as "luminescent."
Though Vic's eyes were beginning to glaze over at the thought of another medieval town, I was still entranced by the narrow streets, steep hills and back alleys. We broke up our days with hiking in nearby national parks, meandering through local outdoor markets, checking out a Cock Festival that had been held in a close-by hamlet for more than 700 years, and doing errands such as laundry, e-mail and shopping for quiet dinners at home.
Mostly we dined on pasta, cheeses and pizzas at the many tavernas in our neighborhood, every table sporting the ubiquitous bottle of wine, even at lunch. One of our favorite hangouts was Taverna dei Barbi, an old stone tavern on the grounds of the vineyard where we lived. Sitting among the eerie granite-covered archways and columns, I felt like I was in a very sophisticated, warm and welcoming ... dungeon.
Offered a menu in English or Italian, I so wished I could have said "Italiano, per favore" and meant it. But I had only learned just enough Italian to get into trouble. I could ask some basic questions but didn't have a prayer of understanding the answers. Still, it found us "il banyo" (bathroom) and "la stazione" (train station) and, of course, a multitude of gelato flavors. The taverna's sausages and salami come from their resident pigs, the cheeses from their sheep, the veggies from the garden and the wine from their vineyards.
Our days were filled with a meshing of hills and happenstance; vistas and vino; walled cities and watchtowers; a chance meeting at a museum, church, fortress; or, better yet, a wine-tasting. After all, this is what Tuscany is famous for, and wine bars are omnipresent on street corners here.
And that's the essence of the Untour experience. There's something more special about discovering such treasures on your own rather than being herded there as part of a group according to a pre-determined time schedule that dictates how long you can spend looking before the bus leaves to go to the next stop.
It was so much nicer just to pick up some roasted chicken, wave to shopkeepers we had befriended and return home to sit on our porch, sip yet another glass of wine and savor our most recent exploits.
WHEN YOU GO
For more information, visit the Untours website at www.untours.com.
Fyllis Hockman is a freelance writer. To read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.
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