Dale J. Norris - actor, poet, writer, photographer, film-maker - is the creator of the award winning Likeastory.com: an interactive site for creative types. Dale has recently taken to publishing some of his back-packing tales of adventure at likeastory just for fun at www.likeastory.com/travel/. Contact Dale at Dale@likeastory.com
A train ride from Roma got us to the station in the town neighboring Montepulciano (our destination). Montepulciano is a small, medieval town sitting on a mountain top overlooking an incredible view of the Tuscan valley below. We meandered about for a while looking for a way to get up the mountain. We even started to walk up that town's hill for a bit until we realized that our One Ton Tomatoes (back-packs) would kill us. Well we found the bus stop but being the "afternoon" (a kind of siesta time in Italy, just not called "siesta") every thing was closed. So there were no bus tickets to be had. 
We found the bus, paid a bit extra for our tickets from the driver and got a scenic tour all the way to Montepulciano. The great big bus was like a Japanese monster compared to the other tiny micro machines that made up the common Italian vehicle. The driver weaved through the tiny streets like a real pro, and delivered us to the main hotel in Montepulciano at the bottom of the town's hill. We asked around for directions, consulted our guide books and read signs to find that the tourist office was at the top of the huge hill before us. We survived (whew!) the lengthy and exhausting walk up the hill (though the sights were nice) to find one of the most amazing views of the Tuscan landscape and also to find a little sign at the address of the tourist office stating that it had moved (somewhere near the bottom of the hill we just walked up). We relax, take pictures, have a tiny picnic eating some of degenerate DC's stock of junk food and head back down to the tourist office to inquire about places to stay. We found the tourist office after the walk back  down and went in to pick their brains for places to stay.
A fellow backpacking couple were in the line ahead of us, and we listened as they told them and us that there were no rooms to be had in Montepulciano. We would have to catch a bus (the last one) to some neighboring town so that we could maybe rent some hobble they knew of there, but we would have to hurry. I couldn't help getting mental images from Lewis Carol's "Alice in Wonderland" "No Room! No Room!" shouts the Mad Hatter. Now this information was from the "Official Tourist Office" so us beat and tired degenerates, who rarely trust anything "official" and are quite accustomed to the ramblings of mad people, decide to ignore them.
We easily pushed away momentary visions in our mind of 3 worn out backpackers camping in an alley-way with bottles of wine and a sleep-sheet lingto, and we wonder (just like Alice) about a block down a random street and effortlessly secure a very comfortable and affordable triple with our choice of bath, view or whatnot for the night. We wanted to catch the other backpacking couple who had been sent on the Mad Hatter's (tourist office's) goose chase, but we were moving too slow at that point as they had hustled to the bus stop as they had been instructed to by the hatter.. Throughout our stay in Montepulciano, we occasionally stopped by the "Official Tourist Office" or the Mad Hatter's lair and constantly confirmed, as a kind of inside joke, that the travel office would almost always convey wrong information about everything.
 Now we 3 wondering idiots in wonderland had, without trying, developed a workable system for getting around, which was coming in a bit more handy in Montepulciano than it did in Roma. I had 3-4 years of Spanish in college about 8 years ago so I could read Italian for the most part (but I would retreat to my Spanish if I tried to speak more than basic words which didn't do me any good at all). That's where Degenerate Fred came in. He had spent a summer in Italy a few years back and had a fair use of the very basic spoken lingo. Where neither of us could communicate that's where Degenerate David came in. He would bumble up and say in plain English "Can I get that?" The way it worked out meant that usually the three of us together could communicate with the locals.
Montepulciano was wine country, and we lovingly participated in the enjoyment of the fine local vintage with our various picnics in the parks, hillsides and restaurants of the beautiful little hill town. The Let's Go guide had recommended the Ristorante Cittino, and I just have to say YUM! Truly a wonderment in this wonderland. Yes these were some of the best meals I had had during my entire trip to Italy and we got quite a deal too. After dinner we were enticed into another little local cafe by a beautiful staff and yummy looking deserts. Quite yummy with wine and this gave us even more of that rejuvenating relaxation we degenerates needed after our previous evenings at the heart of Roma's night life. It was here that we were charmed by fine wines, cheese-cakes, and the relaxing demure of the town into staying another day in lieu of trying to get out on Easter Sunday.
 The inn (Albergho de Borgehise) at Montepulciano was relaxing. It wasn't noisy at all, as Roma was, and the innkeeper was very friendly conveying understanding, patience and comaraderie as we jokingly struggled with each other's language. His English was much better than our Italian. So after the comfortable rest we three idiots were energized and ready to live up to our name.
We had seen a flyer at one of the restaurants telling us that there was the annual horse race (Corse de Camili) in the neighboring town (Aquaviva). Knowing there were no buses, we made a little sign with the word Aquaviva on it and set out trying to hitch to the horse races as there were no buses running on Easter Sunday. We walked for a while toward Aquaviva with our little sign, befriending all the neighborhood dogs as they barked at us from their fences on the way past the neighborhood homes. Well no one picked us up. And we weren't about to walk 6km to a horse race we would be late for anyway. "On second thought let's not go to Aquaviva, it's a silly place". So instead we opted for wine, yummy food again at the Ristorante Cittino and then people watching at another well situated Montepulciano cafe. We hit the sack early that night to be fully recharged for our attack on Florence.
Dale J. Norris' - actor, poet, writer, photographer, film-maker - is the creator of the award winning Likeastory.com: an interactive site for creative types. Dale has recently taken to publishing some of his back-packing tales of adventure at likeastory just for fun at www.likeastory.com/travel/ . Contact Dale at Dale@likeastory.com
(Copyright Dale J. Norris 1999 All Rights Reserved)
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