Negotiating B&B and "V" Tuscan style

Buongiorno from the rolling hills of Tuscany, where Patty and I have beat a retreat to escape from sweltering temperatures the likes of which have haunted us often during our trip. My meager attempts to read an Italian newspaper the other day suggested to me that substantial parts if Italy are on fire - or were those fireman in the photo hosing down another of Sr Berlusciloni's hot house parties. Perhaps both. Nevertheless, we have found ourselves the temporary and only occupants of the agriturismo Poderuccio, a guesthouse housed in a small wine and olive oil farrm perched atop a panoramic ridge just outside of Montalcino, south of Sienna. The world economic implosion has certainly dampened tourism throughout those parts of the world we have visited on this trip. We have had no difficulty getting rooms anywhere and usually in the places we want to stay. My sharply honed haggling skills built in mouth-to-yell commercial combat in the markets of India, Africa and Turkey has enabled me to enjoy a significant advantage in negotiating room rates. I usually ask for the best rate for one night, try and bargain this down and then ask for the rate for 3 or 4 nights while wrenching a confession from the landlord that his establishment is empty or, at best, not very busy. This has usually worked to shave precious rupees, forints, lira, rand, kuna, pounds sterling and euros off of rates, allowing us reinvest premiums into the beverage budget while staying within our target day expenditures. But here, dear blogistas, in the verdant slopes if Tuscany, I appear to have met my match.

Our landlady at the Poderuccio is a small and energetic contadina who has managed to reach her mid-40's without acquiring a single word of English. Now I would not want my Italian to be put to the same test, but then again, I am not in the hospitality industry in one of the most attractive locations in Europe. We arrived here on Thursday and pulled our car into an empty parking lot - a good sign. After exchanging perfunctory greetings, we got down to business. Her first salvo, based on one night accommodation was pitched at €50 a night for B+B. Despite my pointing to the empty parking lot, no yielding was forthcoming beyond saying (as far as I could tell) that this was already a discounted rate - the "Italian move", a favourite opening gambit in these parts. I countered with a request for her best rate for 3 nights. She turned over a fresh piece of paper in my notebook and after thoughtful calculation offered us 3 nights for €150. I began to feign profound contempt accompanied by a lot of arm waving and a rattling of car keys signalling our imminent departure, when she paused and asked us to follow her out of her makeshift reception office to a room at the back of the farm. She opened the door and led us into the wine cellar. Reaching for two wine glasses, she poured us some fresh Orcia Rosso from a cask - a fine if junior vintage from her own vineyards deep in the heart of Italy's premiere Brunello wine country. The wine delivered an effective and salubrious staunching of my next line of attack. Detecting a brief moment of weakness, she pounced again leaving little to be lost in translation with her next scribblings - "Stay 4 nights at €50 a night and I will throw in a couple of bottles of this - 2005's no less, considered to be a very good year around here". As I paused to muster my thoughts and launch my next move, I mysteruously found my voice overtaking this effort with a new found independence of its own - "SOLD" ... Ooops the deal was done, the rate unchanged. Negotiating B&B and V(ino) Tuscan style

Over the next few days, the pains of defeat where generously salved with fresh eggs and the occasional glass of vino bianco fresco from the cask. And I find that with each cork I liberate from the Orcia Rosso, I am beginning to feel better about my routing.

Late breaking news: After the bill was settled this evening and we were enjoying dinner on the panoramic view balcony, she came to our table and asked to take away out empty wine bottle. The best we could make our of her rapid-fire Italian was that she wanted the empty vessel for this year's production. Instead, much to our delight, she returned with our bottle filled from the cask and a sing-song "arrivederci" to bid us farewell. It was enough to restore one's faith in humanity.

On other fronts, we have been happily diverting ourselves here by chasing the summer concert circuit on offer in the open-aired paizzas, parks and even ancient Roman ampitheatres throughout Tuscany. Last Saturday we saw ex-Talking Heads lead David Byrne in the 2500 seat Roman ampitheatre in Fiesole, 10 km uphill from Firenze. A fantastic 10 out of 10 show with wonderful musicians, dancers and coreography. Really, how often do you get to see a dancer leapfrog over the head of the featured musician in mid-guitar solo? (Blogistas will recall my confessed love of Talking Heads late last century). On Wednesday, in the Fortezza Medicea in Arezzo, we saw the American folk-rock singer Tracy Chapman perform before a 5000 person audience in a more conventional North American- style festival setting. A good show but only a 6 out of 10 here - marred by little communucation with the audience and a distinct bossiness towards her three piece backup band. What was most surprising to me was to hear her squeaky, scratchy conversational voice - a stark contrast to her robust alto singing voice.

Off to other parts of Tuscany tomorrow in advance of our return to the city of light and magic (Paris not Langford!) on Friday.

Ciao for now!