Is your relationship with your parents defined by your memories from childhood? Sometimes it can feel like all that happens in your adult life is really one long footnote to an outline and shape formed in your childhood. But there are ways to break that pattern.
One of those is a jaunt to a luxury hotel in the Tuscan hills. It may not surprise you that it has much to recommend it.
I swapped old memories, fomenting in sepia, for something fresher to preserve in the aspic. Though I cannot be certain, I feel sure one memory of some teenage argument is gone in favour of the happier mental images from my dad’s birthday last week. We share a drink at a stone table, looking out at the lush Italian countryside, hills rolling into blue-tinged mountains, as the sun sets. Or we’re making pasta, trying to keep the wilful dough in a nice, straight edged rectangle shape (it disobeys us). Or we’re sipping wine as the sommelier tells us (to my relief) “there are no right answers” in wine tasting. Or we’re marvelling at the delightful, sweet concoctions of the desert chef over dinner.
Yes, your father isn’t the most obvious guest on an Italian holiday for two. But – I speak from experience – it has its own unique magic.
The general pattern of your relationship holds, of course it does. So I learn facts from my Dad – Luton airport’s new light rail is the most expensive per mile in the country – and don’t bother checking them (for this article, though, I do – and it’s true). I admire him in conversation with the charming American mother and son we join for the cooking class, quietly thinking “hold on, I’m a former diarist, shouldn’t it be me making the easy small talk?”. But if the patterns are old, they are cast in new light. It’s me treating (to an extent, of course – this is a review trip) my dad to the holiday.
And what a trip – we were an hour from Pisa, deep in the Tuscan hills, at a place called Borgo Pignano.
An eco-hotel with 750 acres of grounds, it is owned by Michael Moritz, a Welsh billionaire venture capitalist. It makes much of its own food and all of its own wines. It has three restaurants, an infinity pool, and a stunning belvedere. That last, I learned from my Dad, literally means “a beautiful view” (and it is well named here) a word, he informed me that probably imported into English by returning Grand Tourists in the 19th century.
It also has a courtyard, a mini museum of classic post-Second World War Italian design, a cookery school, a winery, and a host of other attractions.
These latter are not to be classed under ‘et cetera’ but include horseback riding, wine tasting, soap making, painting, yoga, a spa with a full range of treatments, cycling tours, hikes, and cooking lessons. All this is offered on the aforementioned sprawling grounds of the hotel (parts of which date back to the 12th century).
It’s a stunning spot – beautiful enough to make a rich man drop a fortune
It’s a stunning spot – beautiful enough to make a rich man drop a fortune. I suppose, in a way, that’s what happened. But Moritz and his team’s vision is about more than just splashing or flashing the cash. It’s a holistic place: not just self-sufficient in much of its food and drink, but thoughtful in its approach to viticulture, farming, and landscape. No wonder, then, that it appeals to so many Americans of certain type (well that, and the successive listings in the august Conde Nast Johansens guide – another fact I was supplied with by my dad). They make for good company – which is a plus as many of the activities involve mucking in together.
The other people you encounter are of course Borgo Pignano’s staff – and they really make the place: warm, attentive, professional. Everybody we passed seemed to know it was my dad’s birthday and they even surprised him with a cake and a (delicious) bottle of their sparkling pink prosecco. When I spotted them delivering the goods during our cookery lesson, I nudged my dad, who bridled at the intrusion, so stealthy was their approach and so focused was he on perfecting his ravioli filling.
Thanks to our skillful cookery teacher Angelo, the pasta we made was truly delicious. So was much else of we ate while there – though none of it cooked by us. Highlights included roast pigeon, steak tartare (topped with a perfectly cooked egg yolk entombed in a light breadcrumb crust), truffle and venison terrine, three perfect little petit fours.
When we weren’t cooking, or drinking, or strolling or swimming, we were relaxing in our rooms. They had vaulting ceilings and charming frescos. The marbled bathroom had a tall shower that doused you from a great height, and a deep bath too. Bathrobes and slippers added yet another luxurious touch. We slept peacefully in the profound and quiet dark.
It was only, sadly, a couple of days but they were unforgettable. Borgo Pignano is not cheap, but it is excellent. And as for going on holiday with a family member, there’s never a bad time to make new memories.
