ITALIAN is my first language. My mother partly grew up in Florence and went to school at Poggio Imperiale, where she learned this wonderful, outmoded Italian speech from the heyday of Tuscan cultural life, between the wars. My parents chose to speak Italian to me and I learned English from their summer guests.
Growing up outside Siena in the 1970s, at a time when the countryside was changing and agriculture was becoming industrialised, was paradise. It was isolated and bucolic: I spent all my life drawing and outdoors, in the fields and woods. I was into social insects and we kept bees. There was a village a couple of miles away, with lots of characters, such as Emanuele, a sweet child and great baker, with whom I used to play at washing waterweeds at the outdoor wash house. Sandrina, the diminutive shopkeeper, was so slow at everything, even slicing bread, that you fell into a trance watching her chide the crumbs for falling and waiting for her classic pronouncement: ‘With haste, nowt is done.’ Some of my friends were the first in their family to go to school until the age of 14—their parents had stopped at eight. Lots of different perspectives co-existed in Chianti at the time.
Denne historien er fra March 24, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra March 24, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery
