Right approach to market town traffic

All around were the lush and lofty hills with dense woodlands of deciduous trees, but the giveaway were the rows of tall and slender conifers, the ranging vineyards, the blossoming groves of olive trees and, of course, the sunshine. In some respects, we might have been in the depths of the English countryside but we were not; we were exploring Tuscany, that colourful, historic and wonderfully atmospheric, romantic district of north-west Italy.

Our accommodation was a former manor house. It was located on a hilltop with expansive views on all sides and local direction signs gave it the status of a village - certainly, it was more than just a big house. In its former life, this wonderful old building had been the centrepiece of a huge estate which owned livestock and agricultural land. In the past, it had produced wine and olive oil as its owners had farmed the landscape and given employment to many local people. Now, after a period of rest and change, it was catering for visitors from around the world.

Surrounding the big house, like chicks around a broody hen, were the outbuildings, some being former barns, others little cottages complete with fireplaces, and others large enough to accommodate a range of farm machinery. Now, those former estate-workers' cottages and barns had been transformed into beautifully equipped apartments for tourists. An outdoor swimming pool and sauna dominated what might have been a foldyard in English terms and other buildings contained a restaurant in the former cellars, with a shop, laundry and storage space outside.

There was even a small Catholic church on the site complete with a crypt containing the graves of former owners of this splendid place; on the day of our arrival, that little village church had witnessed a wedding and it was full of flowers and confetti. We watched the bride having her photograph taken and realised that this was no ordinary tourist centre. This was a village in its own right, but quite different from the other villages dotted about the surrounding hilltops.

Beyond doubt, there is magic in Tuscany. The food is wonderful whether it is in one of the many smart ristoranti or a more accessible trattoria and it is served by helpful and charming italian waiters who will coach visitors into understanding the menus, all of which are printed in Italian. Very little English is spoken in the more remote parts we visited, and that is a good thing for Italy. It helps the region to maintain its own distinctive atmosphere and encourages the English to learn the language of others. In addition, the only food we found was Italian. There are no Chinese, Indian, Thai, English or other foreign restaurants here. We soon learned to understand menus and to place orders in basic Italian.

We enjoyed the meat dishes - beef, lamb, pork, wild boar and even wild chicken (guinea fowl!), but I did not sample medaglioni d'assino - medallions of donkey! As this was Chianti country, the wines were superb too.

But it is the small towns and villages which provide the true atmosphere. On Sunday, we drove to Siena, half-an-hour or so from our base and took a park-and-ride bus up the hill into the stunning old town. And what a gem! With its narrow streets and immense gated entrances, it has all the hallmarks of a medieval city, but as we walked down one street, we heard the loud buzz of conversation and suddenly found ourselves entering the most impressive piazza imaginable. It is surrounded by ancient buildings, all of which are in keeping with the colour of the town - even the shades and blinds of the shops and restaurants are the same sienna brown, but that piazza (town square), with its huge town hall dominating one side, is unforgettable.

It was full of people of all ages and nationalities, many thousands of them, some standing and chatting, some sitting in the sun, some playing games and others wandering around to gaze at the awesome sights. A tiny nun was playing handball with a band of children taller than she, but in spite of the sheer numbers in the piazza, everyone was good humoured and happy. There was no litter, no graffiti, no aggravation, no silly or objectionable behaviour. The piazza lent itself to this kind of mass socialising. Shaped like huge seashell, its base consists of million of bricks, laid on their sides herringbone fashion in the 13th century, and gently sloping like a natural amphitheatre towards a central point, no doubt for drainage.

Behind the piazza and identified by its gleaming white tower, was the cathedral, the building of which began in 1229. With its facade of white marble, it was not completed until the 14th century but it has been extended since that time. Now, it is a masterpiece of architecture with 171 busts of 15th and 16th century popes looking down upon the congregation. The huge interior is breathtaking and yet, in many ways, it maintains the hushed atmosphere of a church. Candles were burning in the Chapel of the Madonna which was commissioned by Pope Alexander VII in 1655 and the high altar, built in 1532, was ready for the celebration of mass.

In many ways, our visit to Siena was a foretaste of the region. We discovered Sinalunga, a small and ancient hilltop town where a street market was in full flow, selling food, clothes, shoes and livestock; we found Trequanda, a spectacular hilltop village with its own miniature piazza complete with police station, town hall and several churches. Montisi, Castelmezio, Petroio and Madonninio del Monti were along our route, all spectacular hilltop villages commanding amazing views. All had the narrowest of streets, tiny pavement cafes and umpteen spectacular churches, all with candles burning and some with people inside, praying their private purposes.

Pietroio, by the way, is renowned for its production of terracotta.

I discovered that petrol stations are not very numerous and as my tank was rapidly emptying, I knew I must find a filling station and ask, "Mi fa il pieno per favore". Having topped up, we journeyed to the spectacular Montepulciano, found a free parking place and trekked up the steep hill towards the town centre.

With shops along the route, plus spectacular views, ancient buildings, a superb church, nice trattori and good ristoranti as well as many opportunities to taste the local Montipulciano wine, we never did reach the piazza on the summit. That is for the future; there was just too much of interest us during that first trip.

The most impressive memory of that journey is that the Italians have not ruined their ancient town centres. Dating to medieval times and comprising stunning buildings on hilltops, they have not succumbed to the demands of modernisation, neither has traffic dominated the minds of the planners. Instead of making the streets wide enough to accommodate modern transport, traffic has been banned with the exception of small local buses, service vehicles and cars belonging to residents. Visitors must park on the outskirts, and there is ample free parking. In comparing places like Siena or Montepulciano with the centres of towns like York or Ripon, one can only wonder at our compulsion for officially vandalising our own urban gems.

In the countryside, the roads were surprisingly good with adequate signing and excellent surfaces. They were blessed with very little traffic and for much of our exploration, we had the road to ourselves, something of a bonus when one is propelling a left-hand drive car along the right-hand carriageway.

What did impress me was that the countryside is surprisingly lush and there does not appear to be a shortage of water. There are hilltop wells all over the place but the tap water and the plumbing of our accommodation was faultless - and I did enjoy the sight of pigeons sipping spouting water in Siena, and a black cat lapping from a swimming pool. Perhaps the most lingering memory is of a two-year-old boy entering a restaurant and saying, "This is really living!" And so it was.