Monday 22 July

Despite world-wide IT outages and dramatic weather causing weekend travel chaos on both trains and planes, we left Andover promptly on the 09.06 and reached Gatwick North by 11.00, with more than two hours to spare before our Easyjet flight to Milan Malpensa. 

Nevertheless, life is rarely this simple. En route David realised that by turning off his computer this morning before 08.00, he had sabotaged the sending of a dozen or so scheduled emails which he had carefully composed to potential tasting hosts for his June 2025 Langhe tasting trip. 

As a result, Hugh’s lunch hour was transformed into a successful rescue mission, by following D’s careful instructions on powering up, restarting, passwords and so on to effect their transmission. 

These negotiations accompanied our lunch in Wagamamas, and no sooner had we finished talking with Hugh at the house, than we were boarding a full plane for a prompt departure. 

Milan Malpensa is a large, two terminal, complicated sort of place, where car hires are only available after 17.00 from T1 (midpoint of RH photo). Of course we had landed at T2 (top right of LH photo). Luggage was slow arriving; as was the shuttle bus, and we left the Hertz carpark well over an hour after landing, to follow a convoluted Google route over interminable suburban roundabouts to the Agriturismo Antico Sapore in the small nebbiolo-growing denomination of Boca. (We arrived just before 19.00. If there’s a next time I vote for a flight to the smaller, quicker Torino airport with its longer but easier drive!) 

Elise greeted us warmly, and we occupied the Sophia room, with a fine view of the lush surrounding countryside furnished with corn, a horse, a donkey, a goose and a pony, and far too many mosquitoes (a consequence of this very wet summer in which storm after catastrophic storm have swept across the Alps – see Saas Grund on Sunday 29 July)

Silvia of Barbaglia arrived an hour later, having travelled from the Veneto where Vitale (her partner) and his family have both vines and cows, and he drove us to ristorante La Motta, in Orta San Guiglio where we had a lovely meal, accompanied by one of Vitale’s col fondo sparkling Glera. 

Tuesday 23 July 

A slower start with a generous breakfast (50 % is the traditional ratio of home grown products needed to qualify as an agriturismo) and constant encouragement to ‘relax’ from Elise before a 10.00 appointment at Cantine Vallana with winemaker Francis Fogarty, brother of David’s contact, Marina. There followed a tour of the very dated huge edifice, the work of his highly successful grandfather in a very distinctive mid twentieth century architectural style, now dilapidated, neglected and crumbly. 

Francis moved (not entirely seamlessly) between family history, enology, geology and respect for the earth, while Marina rapidly left us to our fate in order the sort out her children. 

The mosquitoes were less evident, but ever present.  I was anxious that the nasty reaction to Saturday’s garden bite (which covered at least 25 square cm on my lower shin) might become infected if punctured again, so repellant was constantly applied through the day. 

We had an excellent lunch in Orcabocco in Borgomanera (on Francis’ recommendation), arriving on the dot of 14.00 as their other customers were leaving. 

Onto Castello Monti for 15.00 where the oldest of the three daughters, now a grandmother herself greeted us in this eccentric pseudo-castle, built in 1963. Paola was a delightful hostess, explaining her family’s history and their place in the Boca wine scene, which has shrunk from over four thousand hectares to the present 25 ! Certainly old photos of the landscape testify to vineyards as far as the eye can see, where now bosco and scrub sprawl. They are particularly proud of the Maggiorina training system (four plants trained together) which still can be seen in some older vineyards. I loved the model!

We returned to the agriturismo in time for a short siesta and a delightful swim in the family pool, running the gauntlet of waves of mosquitoes when we ventured outside, and dashed into the water. 

An economical supper was provided by Elise : multiple antipasti of vegetables grown on site; a risotto with myrtili (blue berries) and slices of beef with vegetables, followed by a single Bunet (a Piedmontese speciality, surprisingly unsweet) and some coffee. Elise’s business model is laidback – her four rooms accommodate only those she likes, and she would rather a room remained empty than it be occupied by the noisy, brash or trash (her word!) Her husband is chef in the ristorante, open Wednesday – Sunday to non-residents, and from this they make a good living.

Wednesday 24 July 

Silvia Barbaglia and her nine year old daughter Marguerita met us in the only bar left in the neighbourhood, just by the huge Sanctuario of Boca, which has had a chequered history from its massive development of a small ancient site in the 1700s to become another ambitious project of Alessandro Antonelli (born in Ghemme, and a very influential architect in Novara) from the 1820. Several modifications were attempted by his son after the collapse of one huge flank at some point in its story.

The huge, unusually light and airy shrine still attracts pilgrims (and 14 km of parking according to Sylvia), though its followers are ageing fast. 

Sylvia took us to her new vineyard to see the excavator earth-moving on a modest-sized steep patch in preparation for the planting of new rootstock next week. The mosquitoes were out in clouds, and at every moment we were in the thick of a flying frenzy. I couldn’t apply repellant quickly enough. It was a great relief to move on from there, and to see her Cascina vineyard where she hopes to live – another of many projects in the future. 

After she delivered Marguerita to a pony riding activity she joined us at the Barbaglia winery and family home, where we tasted, and met Cristoph of Le Piane again and other friends of Silvia’s who dropped by, from a Cinque Terre wine shop. 

We have Silvia to thank for many useful suggestions for eating in Orta; and she knows simply everyone in the wine scene. Another force of nature, working happily with ingenious and industrious Vitale, in the footsteps of her father and grandfather, and inspired by her much-admired, strong grandmother, whose kingdom she told us, was the family wine cellar.

We left for Omegna, a 45 minute drive along the west side of Lake Orta, in search of the only car hire in the vicinity – Hertz – in order to return the car. We tracked the office down to a large friendly lady in a small garage on a light industrial estate, and handed over the car while she helpfully summoned a taxi.

He arrived in no time, and soon we were speeding back through the town, grateful for a fifty euro note stuck behind my phone (his card reader wasn’t working). Into this hectic chatter came a call from Laura to say she has landed a valuable job designing and project-managing a child’s room in a major conversion. Great news! 

Despite knowing Wednesday is market day in Orta, and the tiny piazza Motta would be closed to traffic, our eccentric driver still batted on down the southern encircling road from the bivio near ridiculous Villa Crespi, determined to get us close to the Locanda di Orta. He was forced to stop in a bottle neck so we jumped out, paid and thanked him, and fled. We learnt later that there aren’t taxis as such in Orta, just a man with a car…. 

Having been shown the mysteries of a tiny lift (which also serves as a night entrance) and our equally tiny room on the third floor, we unpacked, executed six sated mosquitoes, and set off for the waterfront which we had glimpsed from the breakfast/bistro on the top floor. Leaving the modest crowd behind we strolled towards the Hotel San Rocco to the north, whose wide frontage provides an ideal site for aperitivi. The decking gently swayed as we enjoyed Ca del Bosco’s Franciacorta sparkling rosé as the sun set. 

Supper (Bagna Cauda and multiple bruschetti) was at the enoteca Al Boeuc (Piemontese for a hole!) whose owner Silvia knows, and where Marco of Mirù in Ghemme recognised David, and gave him a bottle in his excitement over the book. (A bottle we forgot to pick up when we left  – but which was still there for us 36 hours later, after Marco had texted!) A very happy evening! 

Thursday 25 July – the eve of David’s special birthday.  The Locanda di Orta not only has eight tiny bedrooms crammed into a narrow four storey stone house  but also a fine breakfast room/bistrot on the very top floor with fabulous views of the lake and from which the circling swifts are almost touchable. As are the sparrows and wasps…. both keen on cheese and ham. 

But its restaurant, whose chef and co-owner Andrea Monesi has a Michelin star, is the main draw, and we were booked in for 20.00 this evening as tomorrow – Friday – was fully booked. 

But the morning was bright, and the lake beckoned, so we hopped on one of the municipio boats and headed first for the little island of Orta, with its working convent and the mortal remains of San Giulio, and a quickly completed circular 650m walk through its traffic free paths. 

The next shuttle boat propelled us to Pella where the well-rated ristorante Imbarcadero greets those disembarking, and we ate well, before strolling along its front in search of a contemporary hotel whose style had caught David’s eye when researching our holiday. 

Casa Fantini is the vanity project of Mrs Fantini  (whose family has made its fortune from taps) and now boasts a stylish interior reminiscent of a friend’s passion for black, glass and grey shades, admired by the architects who visit it. It has a narrow pool tucked into a beautifully managed white garden, poor signage and gates which echo a portcullis. The receptionist kindly showed us round one of the suites and explained its genesis. The whole project is shoe-horned into a section of what was part of the garden of Mrs Fantini’s elegant traditional villa alongside. 

At 15.30 the boat returned to Pella, and we sailed back to Orta, for a walk around the whole Orta peninsular in an attempt to find the most suitable route to our next hotel, tomorrow – pulling cases !

It was very hot! There followed a cool siesta in our tiny room and a happy phone conversation with Jez, one of David’s sons, reporting success on a senior leaders’ programme, and exchanging birthday greetings and family news. (And there was more good news to come: more exciting work for Laura, and a change of University job for Jonny’s partner Hannah!) 

At 20.00 we descended three floors in our glad rags to be greeted by Sara, sommelier and part owner of the Locanda, and shown a table alongside a mature Swiss family group of four, one of whose wine knowledge was as impressive as his English and Italian. 

The food was exquisite. So much care and such detail accompanied fabulous flavours and invention. The wine list delivered real treats to match. Outstanding in every respect. Happy Birthday David!

Friday 26 July 

After another breakfast on the terrace in the company of wasps, sparrows and swifts, we vacated our tiny room and set off by the longest but least challenging route, (comprehensively researched yesterday) via the piazza San Bernardino, swinging round the northern face of the peninsular, on a gradual but tarmacked incline, tugging our luggage past the large carparks and the toytown train onto the via Panoramica with its gentle decline to the Bivio, the main roundabout close to the Villa Crespi. 

Despite setting off at 10.30, it was a very hot walk to the Hotel Bocciolo, where the abrupt receptionist offered us water but not food (oddly the ristorante was closed), the use of loos, and the care of our luggage.  We slowly cooled down in the lounge, and realised the room wouldn’t be available until 15.00. 

Silvia had already recommended the ristorante Sant’Antonio 100m further along the road north towards Pettinasco (not as busy as I’d feared) which came to our rescue with a delightful lunch (seppia spaghetti) and another fabulous if different lake view. 

We overlooked children and families swimming and punting on their floats; no ferries, only small private vessels – and an odd plastic ring being successfully propelled 100s of metres from the shore by VERY VERY small children, who were eventually rounded up and towed back to shore by a passing paddle board. Nobody but me seemed remotely concerned. 

The room was available for an afternoon siesta and the bath was much appreciated. Supper in the hotel felt something of a come down – and the pizza was disappointing – though it’s a destination for many Italian families who ingeniously holiday on the various campsites in camper vans and elaborate tents. Creative use of tree shade and stepping of the hillsides cleverly camouflages the long-established sites, and the free ‘beach’ ie lakeside access makes it very family-friendly. 

Saturday 27 July 

We woke feeling a little out of sorts – though the breakfast with vegetables and no wasps was better than the Locanda’s ! We walked 1.5km to trial the route to the rail station, after which we walked on, via the southern lakeside walk beyond the Villa Crespi (having just avoided what could have been a very nasty collision with two road bikes) to Orta San Giulio in the slightly fresher morning air. We booked tickets for the ‘historic Villas’ boat ride; I was keener on the cool lake air than the Villas, of which we saw little and learnt nothing, to David’s irritation. The Villa Crespi dominates the south shore of the lake – visible from both sides of the peninsular.

Lunch beckoned, and where better than at the Hotel San Rocco. Good value and service, fabulous views – again. The art installation leave something to be desired! Afterall, we can do cans – in the Anton!

The walk back to Bocciolo along the northern stage of the lakeside walk was very hot if flat, so we cooled down in our hotel room until supper in Sant’Antonio once again, with its fabulous view of the sun setting.

Sunday 28 July 

The only morning train left Orta station at 07.40, (having travelled from Novara) and we crept out of the hotel via the white door into the underground garage (always open! ) at 07.00 and pulled or pushed our cases along tarmacadam roads up to the station. Hot work even before 08.00!  The train arrived on time (platform 2 – across the line) and we set off for Domodossola, where we ate breakfast at a bar across the road during the 50 minutes before catching the train to Brig in Switzerland. A wonderful way to travel!