External Places …… ALBA-PIEDMONT-ITALY by Mim Fothergill

External Places……… ALBA – PIEDMONT – ITALY      by Mim Fothergill

Just before Turin the highway winds round wooded hillsides crowned by ancient villages of half a dozen brick farmhouses which have remained untouched for centuries. From hill to hill beautiful arched bridges span the deep chasms for the motorway; feats of modern engineering that combine function and aesthetics in a total harmony. Against the azure sky, they seem suspended in mid- flight. The speciality of this country is the ability to meld the old and the new in an easy co-existence, as though the one were a natural evolution of the other, just as the past and present are in a lifespan.

The road to Alba, off the “autostrada”, plunges you straight into the countryside. It is lined with fruit trees, farmhouses and tiny roadside chapels where Saints or the Virgin Mary look on solemnly as the cars speed alarmingly round the bends. Suddenly round a corner the view opens up on a breathtaking vista – the rolling foothills of the Alps,” Le Langhe” in Italian. The hillsides are hung gracefully and abundantly with vines. Among them are russet buildings of the family owned Wine Estates with red roofs and barrels full of roses, geraniums and lavender on balconies and windowsills. Fruit trees are laden with summer fruit. Some of them still bear pink or white late blooms. On top of the hills there are towers and small castles pink and cream in the late afternoon light. The scene looks like a postcard come to life.

Alba, further down the valley is an exquisite city, immaculately clean, elegant and expensive. Like most towns, it has a historic centre and wide, paved piazzas surrounded by restaurants and arcades of shops. The celebrated designer chocolates, Ferrero Roche are made here. The delicious aroma of chocolate in the vicinity of the factory permeates the air.

But this region is not only famous for chocolate. The King of Italian red wines are made here, the much sought after Barolo which is matured in the barrel for ten years before being released. The Nebbiolo is the younger brother. The grapes are grown on the higher slopes around the village of Barolo which is one of the most picturesque places I have seen. It crowns a steep hill with its few ancient buildings, a pink church and a white one in the same tiny square. A blushing small castle overlooks the steeply sloping vineyards and the villages in the valley far below.  It is old but lovingly restored by the younger generation. It is gratifying to realize that they have chosen to leave the city life, to return to the land and rebuild their ancestral bond with the soil that nurtured them.

Seeing Barolo in summer when it is basking in the bright, hot sunshine, it is difficult to believe how severe the winters can be at that altitude. Most of the Barolo Vineyards were wiped out by avalanches two years ago when the snow came far too early and too abundantly. But, no one here stays discouraged for too long. The attitude is as always, that life is hard work but at least you are alive. I love the place and it people with their directness and their practical philosophy.  They exude that warm hospitality which derives from an earnest desire to share, to communicate and celebrate the genuine wonder of being alive whatever the circumstances.