Località Spannocchia, Tuscany, Italy
Having marble, clay, and stone, the people build for the ages.
Because I so rarely travel, and because I am abroad, this week I want to show you a few photos of the farm where I’ve been on a yoga retreat in the Tuscan region of Italy. This is Spannocchia, an organic farm and education center where interns come to learn biological farming, food preservation, and Tuscan cooking. Spannocchia produces wine, olive oil, and cured meats like prosciutto.
The reception office is located in this ancient building, and my room was upstairs and to the left.
If you keep plants in containers, you know how hard it is to keep them watered. I’m sure plant-watering is a job delegated to women, and I feel women’s care when I see container plants. Inside the inn, I noticed metal watering cans left near houseplants. The can was filled once a week or so, then the plant was watered daily from the can. That does save a bit of time.
The built environment is ancient here. In the homemade museum on site I got to see Etruscan pottery and implements found at Spannocchia. The oldest building is a stone tower built in the 11th century, if I’m remember the date correctly. Most of the buildings are constructed of stone, and so are the steps, stairs, ramps, and balconies. I don’t have this where I live in southern Georgia, where we build mostly of impermanent wood and composite materials like pressboard.

The internet is poor, and the photos are not loading very well, so I’ll add just one more, with a promise to share others later. This is the view from my bedroom window. When I look out, I feel the entire 21st century shrink.
My grandfather was born in Italy in a village of stone cutters right before the turn of the century. He came to America when he was 19....and traveled from quarry to quarry all over the Northeastern US cutting paving stones for America's new roads. He finally settled and started a family in Elberton GA, "granite capital" where he built a house of stone for his family...I just finished moving the stones he cut for his home yet again. I've carried them from place to place as I've moved through my life. They surround us now, edging our gardens here at our "new" old place in Athens.
Sounds like my kind of place. Where you just feel like you’ve gone back in time. The grips on the ramps remind me of the grips we put on chicken coop ramps. That would make it easier to roll things in & out. Plus the grips will keep heavy carts from “getting away” from you. Brilliant!