I had always wanted to see the real Bramasole, ever since we all dreamed of Italy in “Under the Tuscan Sun”. So in April, a drive around Cortona brought us to the turnoff down to Frances Mayes famous home. I was quite nervous actually as we neared the house- was it on the left or right, would I recognize it, was anyone home! No one was
unfortunately, as I had planned to invite ourselves for wine and cheese. Wishful thinking.
But in truth, it was better this way- the peachy plastered walls with the crack running up on one side;the dark grey green shutters framing the windows;the stone walls that those Polish fellows could never have built; and the tiny shrine by the side of the driveway. Yes it is there, but on the house side of the road. I don’t think Frances could ever have seen the elderly gentleman leave fiori in the vase. But I left some. Tiny wildflowers in a glass jar.