We had a busy couple of days in store with my brother, and both days we visited towns Niamh and I had already visited. One we’d gone to I think in 2018, and one we’d just been to the previous year.

The first morning, my brother and I took a walk part way around the walls. It was a good day!

Calories burned and consumed, we debated where to go and what to do, but by the time we had done so, we felt it was a little bit late to skip lunch in Volterra, and attempt to dine in our target. This is because that many kitchens in rural Italy will close their doors for lunch around the 14:15/14:30 mark. So, we went next door to Porgi l’Altra Pancia.

Just the one course – something I have to get used to, to get rid of my ever-increasing belly. And then we were on to one of the area’s loveliest hill towns: Certaldo!

Parking is a bit of a weird one. You can either park in the modern square from which you can grab the funicular up to the old town. When we were visiting, however, the square was under construction. We hit the place where we parked last – a designated spot just outside the walls of the old town. A note of caution here, though. Google will try to take you through a ZTL to get to it – not a good idea, as you’ll be fined. So, you have to go around a long way – through some suburban estates and along a very narrow road, along which you’ll sorta double-back on yourself. It’s a lengthier way, but at least you don’t run the risk of losing some money.

Certaldo is a lovely hilltop village, surrounded by a much larger new town. The old town is closely associated with pre-Renaissance poet Giovanni Boccaccio, who you probably haven’t heard of. But maybe you have heard of the Decameron, which was his masterwork? A very famous piece. Anyway, he is rumored to have been born in Certaldo, but certainly died and was buried here in the church of Saints Jacopo e Filippo.

We got out of the car and entered through the northern gate.

In the tombstone photo above, you can see a little object on the bottom right-hand corner. It’s an onion! Certaldo is famous (at least in Tuscany) for its red onions – a more bead-shaped onion, than spherical. They are sweet, like the more world-famous Tropea onions, but while they don’t have DOP or IGP status, they are highly regarded by the Slow Food Presidium. So there you go!

We carried on with our little explore, and came across the Osteria Del Vicario, who kindly sat us in their beautiful back garden so we could have a refreshing drink. They less kindly refused people to take photos of their premises without buying a drink, but oh well. In fairness, they should have just bought a drink – it was worth it.

We had a little explore of the other side of town, before we took the funicular down to the new part of town, which we’d never been before. One snag, however: The machine at which you buy tickets was out of order, and there was nobody at the the ticket booth. We were told we could buy tickets at a nearby touristic shop. We couldn’t, but she kindly phoned a dude whom she told about the broken machine. He had to travel up to verify us and come back down when we did. At the bottom, we played fair and bought a return ticket.

I had a reason to explore a little of the new town, and dragged poor Niamh and my brother along to the Irish Bar – Fionn Mac Cool. I was wondering if it could possibly be the place closest to me at which I could enjoy an ice-cold hard cider. For some reason, this most perfect of summer drinks is infrequently available anywhere near Volterra. In fact, I have yet to find it outside Florence. But, by the time we got to the place, it was closed! I was sick! It only opened in the evenings – maybe moving to longer opening hours a couple of weeks later – further into the tourist season. The new town itself is modern and functional, and in need of a little TLC.

A little disappointed, we walked a different way back to the funicular terminal and went back up.

On the way back to the car, I made did two things – one a mistake, the other something relevatory which made me feel like an idiot. We stopped off at a gelateria, and while Niamh had some gelato, I didn’t. But all the time I was looking at the Certaldo onion flavour, but I never got it. Next time I’m there, I will get the onion flavoured gelato. I’m still annoyed I didn’t get it. Anyway, instead I got a can of Lemon Soda’s Virgin Mojita. For the past couple of years I have had a virgin mojito in a bar in Volterra, but never saw them mix it. I even recommended the drink to non-drinkers – I thought it was expertly balanced and mixed. Then I took a gulp from the can… and it was the exact. Same. Drink. I had to laugh at my own stupidty: of course it wasn’t the bar – they just poured a can and added ice and a little mint. Having said that, it’s still a wonderfully refreshing drink (not sponsored!).

We rested and chilled until it was time to go out for some dinner. Now, I am almost loathe to give the name of the place, because they’re usually good – and you know what, almost all the dishes we had that night were good, but there was one that was an especial travesty. Sorry, Ombra della Sera!

My fish was literally pulled apart in order to make some sort of attempt at filleting it. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. There’s no way a professional restaurant should have served it like that. Anyway, fortunately the rest of the dishes were tasty – so I have to tip my cap for that.

The next day, I decided to take my brother to the open Etruscan tombs past the Porta Diana. The journey to and into the tombs is wonderful.

I’d visited them a couple of times before but they’re still cool to visit – and motion-detecting lights switch on when you get inside them – looks grim and scary before you do, though. My brother waited patiently outside while I took a few snaps – and then it was time to return.

The journey back is less fun, as it’s uphill all the way – sharply in some areas. I had to pause at one point to catch my breath. On the plus side, the Oratorio della Visitazione chapel was open, and it very rarely is whenever I pass by. I took my chance to step inside and grab a shot o two.

A year ago, we went on a tour of the Val di Cornia and Valle del Diavolo, where our last town visited was Castagneto Carducci. We toured the residential area, wondering where the business/shopping district was, when we came across it – I thought it was a great little place. At the end of the shopping street is a really cute little piazza, and beyond that again is a panoramic viewpoint where you can view a huge chunk of the Tuscan coast – gorgeous – if only I had a drone!

The weather wasn’t the very best that day, but we made up for that by having lunch in Risto-Macelleria San Martino. Vegetarians and Vegans – sorry about ya, but don’t even bother. This is a carnivore’s dream. Lunch turned into dinner when we saw the menu. I started by having tagliatelle al ragu – with one of the best beef ragus I have ever had. It was rich, intense and maybe even a little smokey – I wondered if they had put a trace of smoked paprika in the sauce. Anyway – I was blown away. For seconds, I got grilled sausage – I didn’t know that there would be three, and although they might look a little dry they were moist and succulent. Incredible. I just ate too much. Niamh and my brother had a chargrilled burger, with Niamh having had a . It might have been a little too much on the rare side, but it tasted nice.

We went home and chilled and, incredibly went out to eat in Don Beta. Honestly, I don’t remember this meal. I remember being absolutely stuffed by the meal earlier in the day. I look now at the photos below in disbelief. Then at my belly, and appreciate the reasons why I am quite overweight at the time of writing this!

I had three courses – soup, spaghetti all’olio aglio e peperoncino and cheesecake? What a pig!

We did burn some calories with an evening walk – it was the Italian equivalent of Corpus Cristi that night, so there was a little religious parade.

I’m going to leave this dark moment in my history alone now! I hope you enjoyed the read and the photos, but let me know what you think.

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