The Alps on a sunny, clear day from the village of Barbaresco

Blessed with a clear view of the Alps

📍 Barbaresco, Italy

Summary

Another gorgeous day, such a joy after the cold and rain in Grenoble! Drove to the nearby hill town of Barbaresco and climbed the 5-story tower for a 360°, breathtaking view. Beautiful drive through vineyards and hazelnut, peach and cherry orchards. Parked below the hill town of Barolo and hiked up to find lunch and explore. Found a wine tasting experience we’ll have to go back and try. Found our agrotourisma lodging which was charming (but not really out in the countryside, as we had expected), as was our hostess, Raffaella. Hung out there for the afternoon with wine and cheese then drove through the vineyards to La Morra, yet another hill town, for a slightly chilly al fresco dinner.

Details

We awake and open the doors to our balcony. It’s chilly but sunny and the Alps are completely cloud-free. We can see them sharply seemingly in all directions. I go for morning coffee, prior to when breakfast is normally served. Getting more elevation will undoubtedly mean an even better view of the Alps and I realize it’s just a short walk away. 

Breakfast is again amazing. There’s coffee, eggs, breads, of course, but the difference in type of non-cow milk on offer is interesting. We (I) think of Orzo as being a style of pasta, but like the Italian pastas named for bow tie or ear pasta, it’s just named for what it looks like: barley. So one can order their coffee with Orzo, meaning barley milk. Apparently it’s a big thing here. There’s also lots of carrots and wilted celery for breakfast. What’s that all about? The very loud sound of the self-serve juicer makes it all clear. Lots of clients juicing. 

As I’m out walking, and taking pictures, I meet Chris from Newport Beach. He’s a wine buyer, over here buying. He was the top producer for some region and won an all expenses paid trip here, this is it. He was here, then over in the French Burgundy region. He buzzed down to Nice but wasn’t feeling it so he took the train to Avignon. Wait, say what? There are no cars available? Not even within 200 miles? He hops a train to Genoa, Italy, gets a car and drives the three hours here, arriving at 9 at night. Talk about travel nightmares!

Eventually we pack up and check out. Where we stayed last night has a Barbaresco address but it’s not in the village proper of Barbaresco. That’s where we’re headed now. As we get closer it’s clear everyone else is already here. They drove too (mostly), and took (almost) all of the parking spots. 

There is one open parking spot but some “experienced” (older) road bikers are prepping their kit while their bikes hog make this last parking spot mostly unusable. I edge our car in (not hitting anything of theirs) and they kindly move their bikes. Our car locked, Karen asks them what the tall mountain is we see in the distance. They know and are so proud of it. Monviso! (or in English “Mount Face”). Supposedly the south-facing side looks like a face. They know the height to the meter. They couldn’t be nicer. 

As we walk towards the top of town, to the tower, we’re not alone. This is a big local attraction. There is an elevator but we opt for the stairs. It’s 6€ to visit the tour (5€ for us oldsters). Pay a bit more and the experience comes with a glass of local wine at the top. The tower itself is interesting, the way they’ve modernized it. On one floor (of the five) there’s a big round table for wine tasting. Each seat has its own built in spit bucket. But the view from the top is the icing on the cake. Beautiful in every direction. 

Continuing our drive, we aim for Barolo for lunch. Due to the popularity of the city, and it being a holiday weekend, parking is at a premium. We end up a kilometer away and walk up, up, up to town. The joint is jumping and we quickly grab one of the last available tables for lunch. We’re either good or lucky because the food and wine both were excellent. 

On our post-meal walk we find a wine tasting spot. They give you a drink card and you then go around and taste (or drink) as many (and as much) different wines as you want. Or at least until the 50€ value on the card is used up. Each wine has its own cheaper or more expensive cost and you can get a taste, a half glass, or a full glass. Seems fun and scary. Each wine also has an audio explanation in Italian or English. We plan on returning tomorrow. 

Back at the car it’s a short 2 kilometers to our hotel for the next three nights. It’s an Agrotourisma spot. A room on a farm, in theory. Parking and finding the office is easy, but there’s no one home. Hello? Hello? I message the owner, Raffaella, but get nothing back. We make ourselves comfortable while we wait. A short 30 minutes later we hear some movement. Madame had gone out for a bike ride and one of her 19 year-old daughters had promised to greet us. Alas the daughter quickly dozed off and is now in hot water with mom. 

We get into our room, at last, to unpack while Raffaella cleans up from her ride. The place is nice and comfortable, albeit basic, and the roads nearby on three sides are a bit busy (loud) during the day. But it’s centrally located and well appointed. 

Madame later gives us the lowdown on everything and suggests activities and restaurants. We chill outside, under a blooming wisteria, with wine, fruit, nuts, French cheese and baguette (i.e. leftovers). More chilling elsewhere (where it’s less chilly) and soon it’s time to drive for dinner. We put on another layer as the evenings out here in the country are apparently quite cool. 

I tell the GPS we want to go to La Morra (9 minutes away). There are a few different ways we can go. I choose the route less traveled (apologies to Robert Frost). My choice means the road is two way but windy and barely big enough for one car. My prayers that there are no oncoming cars are answered, mostly. I promise to always take the ‘recommended’ route from now on. 

The dinner place was recommended by our hostess as well as an American couple staying here. We puzzle over the menu with our Google Translate at the ready. We’re still confused so our kind and patient waiter does a hurried “reader’s digest” version of the menu highlights and we’re good to go. Dinner indeed is good and we put a cork in half a bottle of red wine for later drinking.

Photos

Upon waking up we’re delighted to see that the Alps are cloud-free and crystal clear in every direction we can look.
A view of our hotel with the Alps visible on the left.
Probably one of the best views, from breakfast, we’ve ever had. Beyond Karen is the village proper of Barbaresco with the tower of Barbaresco which we plan to visit later this morning.
Breakfast, as we’ve come to expect, is fabulous. We’re always tickled by how yellow the egg yolks are, assuming they’re giving us some magical power to ward off some of the wine we’re drinking. The fruit is always good, especially the strawberries. They much come from nearby.
I turn my head and bam, there are strawberry plants. I don’t think this is where our strawberries for this morning came from, but I guess they could. The plants are happy with the sun and temperatures here, as are we.
As we check out, we check out the big photograph of our hotel for last night, taken apparently from a drone.
This is a 180 degree panorama showing that we’re surrounded by Alps and that today (yay) they’re quite clear and visible.
In the village of Barbaresco, up on the hill, we head towards La Torre di Barbaresco, their old tower. We hear the views therefrom are not bad.
As a part of your six euro admission fee (five euros for us old people) you get your own copy of this birds-eye view of everything you can see from atop the tower. It’s pretty cool.
The tower has five levels and has (necessarily) been redone and hardened (the bones, at least). It’s interesting how they did parts of it. This is on the first floor up, where you can look down at the people on the floor below you.
The tower, apparently, has many uses, one of which is serving as a spot for doing Barbaresco wine tasting. If you don’t like this or that wine, no worries, every seat has its own built-in spit bucket.
The view from up top and the requisite picture of the two of us. Note to self: remember this one for this year’s Christmas card (wink).
As we’re finishing up at the tower the tower next door, not to be outdone, announces the time by way of clanging bells.
Not too far down the road we’re now in Barolo, our home for the next three nights. We’ve not checked in yet, but want to check out the village Barolo (of course up on a hilltop) and have lunch. It’s a Sunday and so the parking is at a premium. We park a kilometer away and hike up to the village. Along the way someone comes by exercising (or maybe just relocating) four horses.
Lunch is delicious but we soon learn that most all restaurants in this part of the world specialize in the local cuisine, which means that all the menus look pretty much the same. For poor Karen, who is trying to be good with her pre-diabetes, this may prove to be a real challenge.
After lunch we head over to the castle of Barolo, though not inside.
They also have churches in town, to pay their respects to you-know-who. Again we admire the buildings from the sunny outside.
Where DO we go in? A wine tasting place. The village has a ton of these, but this one is a bit unique. It has a half-dozen or more of theses fridges that are activated by a special credit card. You get to choose which wine and how much you taste. Pretty cool. We plan to return tomorrow.
On our way back to the car we check out the front of the castle of Barolo.
Where we’re staying. Our room is upstairs in this ‘wing’ of the place. So many flowers around.
Checked in, we drag some wine and munchies out to one of the many sitting areas to chill, sip and nosh.
At dinner time we head up to this city, La Morra, for dinner.
There’s not much on the menu that we’d normally order, but Karen does see the word “Salad” and so we split that as our starter. It is, alas, Salad Russo, which means it’s mayonnaise, peas, potatoes, a bit of tuna fish, etc. Not what we think of as ‘salad’ but it’s rather tasty.
For our main courses we both get ‘identifiable’ protein (that’s not tongue or tripe). I get seared tuna and Karen gets grilled beef. They’re both quite good.