Actually getting on was easier, the widespread titters and my flushed face emphasising the undignified disembarkation. Bloody gravity. Bloody stirrups. One numb bum and a hot trot through the vines gives one a thirst that only Prosecco can quench.
The last visit included a stay in the Bisol guest house. Reading back the posts from those early blogging days are rather embarrassing in the way they are incredibly brief and not really enthusing or explaining (or offering enough photographs) on how relaxing the guest house (Relais Duca di Dolle) is, how easily reachable from Venice, and how the region offers a host of excellent eateries – Gigettos for example or in Rolle, a pleasant winding walk from the guest house, is Andretta with its wonderful open terrace with views down the valley and Il Monestero, a more rustic experience with a chef who makes up a menu each day depending on his whim and the seasonal availability of produce.
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