Monday 26 January 

The next morning we left with Giacomo, the sales manager, as the sun was rising, to drive into Torino. Roadworks made it slow-going, and we were dropped at the OGR at 09.30, while Giacomo searched for parking. 

The day began with coffee, a brief gathering of some members of the Circle of Wine Writers travelling with Michelle Shah, all of whom greeted us warmly, and our booking lunch at the Mamma di Isola Capri,  a high quality, formal ristorante based in the OGR where we ate well last year. 

David had done masses of preparation to reconnect with the dozens of producers he now knows, and to taste more of Piemonte’s white wines – the subject of his next report. We learned later that there were 4000 people attending today and 500 producers; the first huge room A1 – B250 was certainly was very full, so we moved into the quieter C251- D500 for the rest of the day. 

Lunch was delicious though very slow. The manager knelt to convey his apologies and awarded us some sparkling rosé as compensation (a trick he repeated the following day – probably because we had come back!). Later we had a run-in with the Press room staff, who declared it closed at 17.30 despite the main event running on til 19.00. David was not best pleased! 

What had been a successful day was blighted by my tripping over as we left the site, twisting my knee awkwardly and falling heavily on concrete slabs. It was a shock, of course, and I spent a few seconds wondering if I’d broken the hip I had landed on, but my legs moved well enough as I was hauled up by David and a concerned passerby. It certainly hurt! My knee felt feeble, and it soon became clear that it had suffered some sort of sprain, though it didn’t prohibit walking. We limped gingerly back to weekend’s hotel, to collect luggage, and moved to Dock Milano, on via Cernaia, grateful to have got off lightly. 

We ate a parmigiana and a velluta zucca that evening in an ordinary, local ristorante, Il Padellino.  The right knee and thigh were causing less concern when moving than when sitting or lying. I soon learned that things stiffened when stationary; a few hours in bed made me feel crippled. After the elation of not having broken anything nor landing in an Italian A & E, I then spent parts of the night worrying: would I be able to walk to the OCR tomorrow, and join in the tasting? How would we manage the luggage on Tuesday evening en route to Alba? And so on…. 

Tuesday 27 January “

In fact we were able not only to manage the four sets of stairs to snatch breakfast, but also by 09.00 to reach the foyer of NH Centro once again, briefly meeting  Alessandro Masneghetti to collect a copy of his new map of the whole of the Langhe. It is very big, rolled but completely unprotected. David scurried back to the Dock Milano to leave it with our luggage, quickly returning to move on to day two of Grandi Langhe. 

We booked the ristorante again. They were thrilled! It was surprisingly quiet and underused, and the food is outstanding, with hugely preferable loos! We returned to the tasting halls, tracking down Repetto, presidente of Colli Tortonese consorzio, from whom David hopes for sponsorship for their tasting days at Tortona on 28 – 29 March. At c 15.00 we took refuge in the highly civilised Press room where sommeliers delivered and poured requested samples. An efficient way to cover alot of ground, but at the expense of relating to the producers and their wider offerings.  

We left at 17.30 to walk sedately to collect our luggage, wrap the map in the windscreen protector and thence to catch the 18.29 train to Alba. So far, so good. As the train approached Alba, we spoke with an American woman whose horror at the parlous state of the USA eclipsed ours. She owns the hotel at Sinio, and was keen to add David’s book to her resources there. She has alot of wine enthusiasts stay as her guests. We three had an unpleasant encounter with a very disturbed, out of it young man as we left the station; the second unpleasant episode of this kind of our visit.

We walked to the Hotel Giacomo Morra (formerly the Savona) just off the Michele Ferrero square, found our room, and headed for the Osteria dell’Arco where we ran into the whole Sordo team, including Paola and her new boyfriend Mattia. The ristorante was full, and we ate well, sharing a glass of a disappointing Timorasso from the other next door table. I was tired, and shooed David home before the Sordo table broke up; we had a 09.00 appointment in Monforte and first, a hire car to collect at 08.00 from Maggiore – which I have nominated the best hire car office in Italy: Luigi is expecting us! 

Wednesday 28 January 

We woke to wet snow falling.  Breakfasts continue to improve and we were making good time until David spotted the absence of his credit card. After searching suitcases and bags, he rang Luigi to warn him that I might be the nominated driver, and we set off slightly disturbed. Luigi was  content with a debit card – he really couldn’t be nicer – and we then spent five minutes looking for the car, before taking the now completed motorway, passing several snow ploughs as we drove.

David rang Aldo Conterno to warn them we were late. The snow had eased, and the lower roads were well swept, but as we drove up towards Monforte, directed by Google to use the more direct if minor route, the snow was more evident.
We arrived at 09.15 to be greeted by Allesandro, Giacomo’s nephew who presided over our tasting their Bussia Dor Chardonnay. 

Our next appointment made only yesterday at Grandi Langhe was at Ca’ del Baio near Tre Stelle in Barbaresco. Mercifully it had stopped snowing as we drove through the Langhe, and as the day wore on, the thaw created slippery slush, though the land remained white and the roads were slippy.

We were greeted by Federika, recently employed as additional admin person, who produced their whites for David to taste, before she left us to take part in a midday zoom. We set off in search of lunch. 

As we arrived in Treiso, at around 400m, where the snow was deeper, we saw a vehicle skidding and slipping badly on a drive just a metre from the cleared road, but we resorted to a nearby car park under a vast conifer where there was little snow, grateful that the trattoria Risorgimento was open. (Note its new phone number, below, stuck to the till). Here we met Marco Simonet, who David declared to be ‘the man who made pruning sexy’ to his companions’ amusement,  having met him at an MW event years ago. 

We ate a delightful Russian salad, followed by lamb and beef dishes both slow cooked, and even desserts: orange sorbet and hazelnut semifreddo, trying to mark time until our 15.00 appointment at Gaia’s new white wine winery near Trezzo Tinella. They have bought the vineyards of the Cascina Langa but not the cascina itself, which is celebrated nationally as a one time refuge for partisans. 

The snow was deeper here, at nearly 700m, so Giovanni took us in Gaia Gaia’s e-car to see their new vineyards below Cascina Langa, and than a tour of their fortress-like new build, now buried deep in the hillside under the spoil from the enormous excavation.  We then had a strange tasting of six unfinished white wines including Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Bianco, Chardonnay and a blend of SB and Chardonnay. 

We returned to Alba as the light faded, held up at the railway crossing as the three coach train to Asti chugged by. It does exist! After a frustrating time trying to connect with the provider of the critical Chelsea v Napoli game – to go through to the Champions League proper – we went out for some supper at the rather snooty Enoclub, after which David was able to follow it on the radio. Chelsea won 3 – 2. Phew!  We were both tired….

Thursday 29 January 

By contrast, today was a bright, sunny day for our excursion to Rizzi above San Rocco d’Elvio on edge of Alba doc but whose wines are Barbaresco DOCG. As we arrived on this spectacular ridge we bumped into Sara from Cherasco, a friend of our hostess.  Iolo is the daughter of Ernesto who created the winery in 1974, and though she and her brother Enrico now do all the day to day running and marketing, working very hard, Ernesto at 86 continues to have his say.

Iolo also has three teenage children; the lovely photo below is of the eldest at two, on proud Ernesto’s knee, and the label commemorates Ernesto’s mother, also an Iolo.

We went straight to the Osteria Italia where we had eaten with Manuele last Spring,  and had a lovely lunch there served by a friendly young woman, very knowledgeable about wines. 

From there we drove along a kilometre alongside the Elvio, to Adriano. We had a really informative tour from one of the staff, and Michela popped in to say hello, gave us some wines to carry home, and sailed out again, leaving her mother to finish the tasting. 

As we waited for an old telegraph pole to be removed by a lifting vehicle blocking our exit, alongside two curious donkeys, I wondered exactly where does Alba end and Barbaresco start? The line of the river Elvio perhaps?

We returned to Alba, parking the car near I Castelli ready for our appointment in Roero tomorrow. 

Our attention turned to the challenge of conveying the large Langhe map by aircraft. The young women on Reception had furnished us with a few possible places to look, and after cadging a cardboard tubo from a print shop, we found Bottegaccia, an Art shop on via Pertinace which had a purpose made plastic cylindrical protector. It looked sinister, but was exactly what we needed. 

And at a bookshop called Milton nearby we found two geographical maps, one of the Langhe and the other of Asti, Alba and Aqui Terme. These triumphs were celebrated with hot chocolate and cream in the Caffe del Teatro. 

We ate in 100VINI, where the main excitement was the electricity going off in the loos, fridges and coffee machines. Eventually someone found the trip switch after the friendly drama queen had rushed around excitedly, and the caffe had slowly closed around us.

Friday 30 January 

A slower start to reach Deltetto in Canale, for 09.30, to meet Cristina, the sister of Carlo (married to Paola of Ca’del Baio) who in his unavoidable absence, kindly showed us around their winery, also founded by a grandfather moving on from fruit to making wine from the grapes they grew. The town house has been slowly extended to incorporate a large cellar and winery, as well as a room with accessible historical information to help visitors make sense of Roero.The strange map of Italy represents the landmass at a time when sea levels were much higher, and most of what is known now as Northern Italy was part of the sea bed – hence the many shells and marine fossils in the display case. The Lambretta is the pride and joy of Antonio, from his very own youth, in the late sixties.

We drove back towards Barolo, stopping for lunch in Gallo, not at the Molino but at a larger pizzeria ristorante Bargiglio Rosso recommended by the greengrocer from whom David had purchased garlic. Our destination was Damilano: to meet Isabella of the always-open tasting room, and Alice, a niece of the two well established brothers who now run this large winery on the road side close by Sordo, Sandrone and the ‘giddy boxes’ building of the La Stemmia. Alice showed us around the large functional winery, built in the 60s, with its original weigh bridge indoors and huge concrete cylinders from that era, all masked now by the brick frontage alongside the main road. 

We tasted from three of the botti, each holding ‘resting’ wines  to be released in 2027 or 2028. They were already delicious and fruit especially prominent. Liste is Alice’s favourite, over Cannubi. In the tasting room we learned that the wine-making is always the same for all their red wines, the only difference being how long they rest before bottling and release. 

The shift from modernist use of barrique and tonneaux occurred around 2015, and now everything is in botti, except wine for topping up or as overflow – yet wine-making is said to be always the same…Like everything in Italy, transitions are smoothed out, underplayed, evolution not revolution – however radical the difference. (Death is dealt with the same way; nothing said; life goes on..)

We left Damilano as the afternoon sun broke through, and drove along the old SP3 through Gallo and onto via Piave before turning left for via Ogni Santi, and on past the bus station to the staffed petrol station just before the I Castelli roundabout. We left the car in the free carpark, and its keys with Luigi at Maggiore, and headed back to the hotel for farewells and the luggage, including our (at least in my mind) menacing black plastic cylinder containing our precious map.

We made it to the station in time for coffee at its bar, and caught the 18.07 to Porta Susa, and the cheapest of our one night stands – the Hotel Torino. Its reception is on the second floor, (60 steps) and our room (in fact a multi room suite) on the fourth floor (another 60 steps).  David heroically took the luggage in the birdcage lift, which zoomed up and down the central stairwell efficiently as it has done for probably a hundred years… 

Our only disappointment was Parlapá – which not surprisingly was fully booked – why didn’t you ring? said the eccentric proprietor.. well, we’ve been pretty busy! And in fact we were very tired. 

Instead we ate in Cin-Cin, Chinese or perhaps Vietnamese. We ate extraordinary black mountain mushrooms (about which I took fright), an interesting if piccante cucumber dish, fabulous prawns and a pork and mushroom noodles dish, all accompanied by a basic Gewurtztraminer..

Saturday 31 January

The airport express bus arrived at stalle 13 on time at 08.38, opposite Porta Susa station, and we arrived at busy Caselle Airport as crowds of skiers were checking in for the 11.30 BA flight. 

By contrast the Easyjet flight at 11.45 had no queue at all, and we were hugely relieved when the friendly woman at bag drop told us there would be no problem carrying our map cylinder as hand luggage. Miraculously, no one took any notice of it, and a security man even smiled when, having accidentally dropped it, I hurriedly declared it not be a gun. It might have been very different travelling the other way.

The plane left on time, half empty. We arrived at Gatwick, bought some lunch at M&S and made our way to Clapham Junction. Despite all our precautions to protect it, the map nearly came to grief as we hastily descended the escalator as the train arrived. The lid came loose, the map tumbled out. Pirouetting on one foot on a moving escalator, wearing a heavy rucksack, clutching a phone and train ticket and with a suitcase also poised to fall on me, I trapped the map with my other foot. And we still caught the train! Home by 15.45; all six bottles intact.