Another good night’s sleep. Is it the Italian beds or our level of relaxation?

Breakfast on a small patio behind the building. Took our time (two cappuccinos each), enjoying the space, the peacocks of all shapes, sizes, and sexes roaming around us, and the lush pink and white flowering bushes that added a sweet scent to our meal.

After breakfast we headed to the supermarket to pick up some bread and cheese to add to our leftovers from last night for today’s lunch. Santo was in his glory! The glass case at the back of the store overflowed with fish and seafood, included whole octopus (tentacles and all), squid, shrimp, and more. There was even a spot where you could fill a plastic wine bottle with red or white wine from a tap. (see below)

Back to the hotel by noon, the weather had warmed up to a perfect poolside temperature. I headed to the pool with my computer and started writing. Santo joined me after a little bit and took a dip in the pool (cool, he said, even the hot tub!). Then he brought our lunch of cheese, bread, fruit, leftovers, and cookies to a poolside table.

The afternoon at the pool was a pure delight. Comfy lounge chairs, umbrellas for shade, a glorious infinity pool with an infinity hot tub nested inside, all surrounded by lush vineyards and pink and white flowering bushes. We still do not know what they are called (they also line many of the highways), but Santo is determined to find out. Perhaps they will be growing around our pool one day! A group of young people were enjoying drinks and each other in the hot tub. I imagined they all were twenty-something career people in Florence having a weekend getaway to the country. After all the strenuous waling and climbing in Matera, this pastoral respite was just what we needed.

By 5 o’clock, we were ready to take our sun-soaked bodies up to the cool sheets of our air-conditioned room for a pre-dinner nap. Very romantic!

This night, the restaurant and villa was hosting a wedding. Alexandra had told us about it the day before, indicating that they marrying couple was “you know, not so much on the young side.” “You mean like us?” I asked. She laughed. “It will be a nice group. And we will have everything shut down by midnight.” She wanted to assure us of this since our room was just upstairs from the festivities.

By the time we came down for dinner, the restaurant was filled with wedding guests. The tables had been set with white tablecloths, flowers, and candles, all looking quite lovely under the small lights strung along the wooden beams of the porch. Dinner for the hotel guests would be served on the back patio where we had had breakfast. Before we headed back, we took a peek out front, catching a glimpse of the elegant bride, her blonde hair done up and dotted with white flowers. It did indeed seem like a nice group—how fun it would have been to join them.

On the rear patio, there were five tables of guests. A family at the table next to us, parents and two teenage boys, were having a weekend getaway from Florence. Their dog Lucky accompanied them. A beautiful white and brown dog, Lucky greeted us gently, then spent most of the meal under the table. At a table for three was a gentleman who seemed to be famous from the way people were sheepishly greeting him. He was probably in his seventies with pure white hair, parted in the middle and hanging to the nape of his neck. He had a deep tan, which seemed to more likely be from a tanning bed than time outdoors, and a look of arrogance. Accompanying him was a small, dark-haired woman in jeans and white shirt and a blonde (dyed) woman of a certain age whose palazzo pants and loudly colored silk top made her look like she walked right out of Dynasty.

The air was perfect, mild with a gentle breeze. By now, we were so used to the resident peacocks that spotting them in the trees around us and hearing their loud, shrill cries barely phased us. In the long room just inside the patio was the children’s table for the wedding. Every once in a while, they would all burst into loud laughter or whooping sounds. They seemed to be having fun—and we all smiled at one another on the patio when we heard them.

I couldn’t resist having the raviolini with green pasta and pistacchios again. This time I had is for my main course and had steak tartar for my “primi.” Unlike in Matera where the meat was served in ultra-thin slices, here it was ground and shaped like a burger and accompanied by pungent mustard and bits of watercress. Santo repeated his lamb chops from the night before, and ordered the cheesecake with berries for us to share.

After dinner, we made our way through the tables of wedding guests (the only way to get outside), and went for a stroll in the vineyard. We ran into Lucky and a few peacocks along the way. The DJ’s music from the wedding accompanied us. On the way back through the weddijng reception, we saw the bride and groom’s table.

We continued to be serenaded as we settled in for the night. There were a few traditional Italian songs which had everyone singing along, but most of the music was American rock-and-roll and R&B. When I glimpsed out the window, I could just make out the bobbing heads of some of the guests on the dance floor. Promptly at midnight, as promised, the music stopped.

Even the peacocks were quiet.