Satisfied, it was now time to explore the town. We stepped out into a warm fall day. That day Mensano was playing its part in full. The locals were dressed as peasant workers in preparation for the hard work to harvest the grapes for wine. The young women wore simple dresses (reminiscent of the 50’s) with bandanas on their heads to hold back their hair and catch the sweat of the impending hard work of
that time of year. The men wore simple but rugged trousers and shirts with their bandanas around their necks or various hats or fedoras on their heads. In costume, various small music ensembles patrolled the streets injecting their music into the festivities. Some of the older men of town were strolling and playing with trumpet and brass and drums. Another group of younger men were playing guitar and accordion while accompanied by a few young maidens with voice and tambourine. Later everyone gathered together in a culminating parade. A fairly long line of people in costume with musicians paraded up the steep and narrow medieval street. The height of the small parade was a big trailer being pulled by two huge white oxen. On top was a large barrel filled with harvested grapes that were being stomped into wine by three lovely young girls. I felt a little trepidation as I watched this large trailer and oxen trekking up the narrow road but all worked out well and it was an added spectacle to this amazing grape and wine festival.
It was at this point that I realized everyone was enjoying themselves the best way they saw fit. Cindy found a seat on a café terrace and was enjoying a cappuccino while she was watching the parade. Charlie was very enamored with Mensano and was off exploring everywhere he could going down the small medieval streets and alleys. He always came back though to catch further glimpses of the parade. Anita was off following the parade route and I decided to follow. The parade wound up at the highest point of town which opened onto a small plateau which was a field with some buildings nearby. The huge white oxen were unhitched and tethered to some old trees by a stone wall. It seemed all of Mensano’s inhabitants had gathered in the field and were laughing and conversing. A moment later a band started playing music and a great group of persons took their places and then proceeded to dance. This dance was communal as the entire group would skip about in one large circle moving in choreographed steps. The festival had turned into a great communal, peasant dance with music emanating and the joyous shouts and laughter of the townspeople echoing as they enjoyed themselves greatly.
Anita and I stood and watched. The atmosphere was intoxicating and if we had known their dance steps we probably would have joined in the fete. After a while we headed back to Cindy and the cappuccino bar. We passed various spots catering to the festival. One table sold bruschetta; another sold freshly roasted chestnuts.We walked by a wine shop. Two gentleman inside were finely dressed in tuxedos and were heartily promoting their version of aTuscan Sangiovese red wine. Further down an elderly nonno and nonna (grandpa and grandmother) were shucking corn by hand.
Nothing seemed artificial and what we ate and did was what people always did at that time of yearwhen they lived close to the land.We all gathered together and started off towards our car. In one main square on the way a grape press was set up. Groups of people gathered around as the owner was putting in clumps of grapes and then pressing them by hand. At the bottom was a spout and freshly pressed grape juice was pouring out. We sampled the fresh harvest of that year. It was delicious and sweet. ‘I cannot wait to sample that wine one day’, we individually thought as we left Mensano Vecchio. What an amazing experience that day was. It was one day among seven.
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Satisfied, it was now time to explore the town. We stepped out into a warm fall day. That day Mensano was playing its part in full. The locals were dressed as peasant workers in preparation for the hard work to harvest the grapes for wine. The young women wore simple dresses (reminiscent of the 50’s) with bandanas on their heads to hold back their hair and catch the sweat of the impending hard work of
that time of year. The men wore simple but rugged trousers and shirts with their bandanas around their necks or various hats or fedoras on their heads. In costume, various small music ensembles patrolled the streets injecting their music into the festivities. Some of the older men of town were strolling and playing with trumpet and brass and drums. Another group of younger men were playing guitar and accordion while accompanied by a few young maidens with voice and tambourine. Later everyone gathered together in a culminating parade. A fairly long line of people in costume with musicians paraded up the steep and narrow medieval street. The height of the small parade was a big trailer being pulled by two huge white oxen. On top was a large barrel filled with harvested grapes that were being stomped into wine by three lovely young girls. I felt a little trepidation as I watched this large trailer and oxen trekking up the narrow road but all worked out well and it was an added spectacle to this amazing grape and wine festival. 
It was at this point that I realized everyone was enjoying themselves the best way they saw fit. Cindy found a seat on a café terrace and was enjoying a cappuccino while she was watching the parade. Charlie was very enamored with Mensano and was off exploring everywhere he could going down the small medieval streets and alleys. He always came back though to catch further glimpses of the parade. Anita was off following the parade route and I decided to follow. The parade wound up at the highest point of town which opened onto a small plateau which was a field with some buildings nearby. The huge white oxen were unhitched and tethered to some old trees by a stone wall. It seemed all of Mensano’s inhabitants had gathered in the field and were laughing and conversing. A moment later a band started playing music and a great group of persons took their places and then proceeded to dance. This dance was communal as the entire group would skip about in one large circle moving in choreographed steps. The festival had turned into a great communal, peasant dance with music emanating and the joyous shouts and laughter of the townspeople echoing as they enjoyed themselves greatly.
Anita and I stood and watched. The atmosphere was intoxicating and if we had known their dance steps we probably would have joined in the fete. After a while we headed back to Cindy and the cappuccino bar. We passed various spots catering to the festival. One table sold bruschetta; another sold freshly roasted chestnuts.We walked by a wine shop. Two gentleman inside were finely dressed in tuxedos and were heartily promoting their version of aTuscan Sangiovese red wine. Further down an elderly nonno and nonna (grandpa and grandmother) were shucking corn by hand.
Nothing seemed artificial and what we ate and did was what people always did at that time of yearwhen they lived close to the land.We all gathered together and started off towards our car. In one main square on the way a grape press was set up. Groups of people gathered around as the owner was putting in clumps of grapes and then pressing them by hand. At the bottom was a spout and freshly pressed grape juice was pouring out. We sampled the fresh harvest of that year. It was delicious and sweet. ‘I cannot wait to sample that wine one day’, we individually thought as we left Mensano Vecchio. What an amazing experience that day was. It was one day among seven.