Goodbye Dry January!

Goodbye Dry January!

Did you really believe that? If so, would you like to buy a bridge?

We were going to write something noble and virtuous about how we did our own form of dry January — namely sticking to dry reds, with the occasional Vermentino (because technically it’s still dry, right?) — but even we couldn’t keep a straight face.

Let’s be honest. We’re glad January is over.

Montepulciano in January: a romantic ghost town

January in Montepulciano feels like the town is on life-support. There’s this gorgeous medieval hilltop setting, dramatic stone buildings, perfect piazzas… and then complete and utter silence.

You know how in a normal place you might say, spontaneously:
“Shall we go for an aperitivo?”
or
“Let’s not cook tonight.”

In January in Montepulciano, the next question isn’t where shall we go? It’s:

Where could possibly be open?

Yes, you could look up Facebook listings. You could check Google. You could even ring ahead like a responsible adult.

But this is Italy, and this is Montepulciano, and a lot of places operate on a slightly different business model:

We’ll see how we feel.

One of our favourite bars had a message that said (and we’re paraphrasing only slightly):
“We are open for Christmas. After that, we’ll see how we feel.”

And honestly? That is the Dolce Vita. At least for the bar owners. They’re living their best lives. We, meanwhile, are doing something far less glamorous:

We’ve parked the car, put on three layers of clothing, a scarf, and a hat, and walked up 300 metres — because one of us (not naming names) thought that exercise was a “good idea”.

Only to arrive, cheeks freezing, eyebrows iced over, and realise:
It is 2°, bloody cold and the bar is closed.

And then — as we stomp back downhill in bitterness and wool — we suddenly see how ridiculous the whole scene is.

We’re standing in a beautiful piazza, in a medieval Tuscan town, surrounded by centuries of history… and our biggest problem is that Luca has taken the night off.

Perspective. Tuscany has a way of forcing it on you.

Meanwhile on the farm… not much.

January at the winery is, to put it technically:

a whole lot of nothing.

The vines are in hibernation. The wines are aging in their wooden happy places. There are very few tourists, and therefore very few tastings — which is probably just as well because Tenuta Golo is currently… how shall we say…

a bit of a building site.

The big renovation project is underway and, whisper this quietly so we don’t tempt fate…

it’s actually ahead of schedule.

There are days when we look around at dust and protective plastic sheeting and we hear those drills a’hummin’ and think: This will all be worth it. This will all be worth it.

The snowstorm, the ditch, and the truck

January also included a snowstorm.

And in the tradition of couples who live on farms and occasionally misjudge conditions (or roads… or gravity… or the laws of physics), Niall “parked” his truck in a ditch.

Not parked parked.

More like… abandoned dramatically in nature after being defeated by winter. [Point of Order - reversing in 4WL at some speed, in blind conditions and executing a 90 degree turn\skid counts as parking as long as the truck is mostly in one piece.]

Good news: the truck has now been recovered. Niall, unsurprisingly, is very proud of this, as if it wasn’t his fault in the first place.

There is no logic here. There is only marriage.

The expat get-together

Despite the cold, the ghost-town vibes, and the construction chaos, we decided to run a little get-together for the expats of Montepulciano.

Because if January gives you lemons, you… gather everyone in a farmhouse and pour wine?

The organizer-in-chief (again, no names) was in her element — planning, hosting, feeding people, making introductions, and generally proving that even when a town is asleep, community doesn’t have to be.

There’s something about expat life in small-town Italy. You’re all slightly mad to be here, but you’re mad together, and that is oddly heartwarming.

February: the “buckle up” month

Then, almost overnight, February arrives and the energy shifts.

It’s like Tuscany wakes up, stretches, shakes off January, and says:

Right. Enough lounging. Let’s get to work.

Because February means the Anteprima.

Then March is exhibitions and distributor visits.

Then April is Vinitaly.

And suddenly we’re back to spreadsheets, logistics, travel planning, tasting prep, and that slightly panicked feeling of:

“Wait — aren’t we supposed to be ready?”

OMG don’t you miss January?

Yes. No. Absolutely not.

We love the beginning of the season. We love the sense of momentum. We love the feeling that things are starting again — tastings, visitors, events, wines leaving the cellar and going out into the world.

But still…

Just for a second…

It would be nice to have one more January day to do nothing but drink a glass of Nobile, stare at the vines, and pretend we are the kind of people who do Dry January.

Toodles,

Niall & Paari

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