In addition to the famous one by Vasco Rossi, where do you go "drinking whiskey like the stars”There is another Roxy Bar, less exclusive and less famous, but in my opinion much better attended: that of Ponticino, a small fraction of Laterina, in the province of Arezzo. Here the Butteri, the members of the most famous boar hunting team in the area, meet at dawn. And here, on a warm morning in early November, we find with pleasure our hunting friends, who have hosted us many times over the years, and with whom I wanted to inaugurate my personal hunting season, together with Vincenzo.
After a customary coffee and the usual "good luck”Of the bartender, we head to the hunting lodge (which to call a hunting lodge is an understatement!… Kitchen, butcher, five-star kennel… etc). The atmosphere today is very different from that of great occasions, when off-road vehicles and orange jackets fill every square inch of the beautiful patio of the hunting lodge.
Today, thanks to the olive harvest and some defections due to hare hunting, there are very few hunters: about twenty stalls, only three canai (Gabriele, Beppe and Fabrizio). For a "normal" team such an arrangement would be standard, but for the Butteri it means hunting in small ranks. "Today we make the joke of the Balze"Proclaims Gabriele, president, canaio and charismatic figure of the Butteri,"it is a great joke, we will try to cover it despite being few ... for us canai it will be very hard, but this morning's tracing bodes well! Good luck to all!". The enthusiasm that Gabriele sowed in the auditorium begins to meander conspicuously: everyone gets ready, wears high-visibility clothing, tie laces to boots, wear gaiters, fasten cartridge belts ... no doubt about it: the thrill of hunting boar and team spirit are truly contagious, and spread like a wave as soon as the stone of enthusiasm is thrown by the team leader.
To me the honor of drawing the number of the post first: eight. But for now it's a number, which I don't know what to associate with. For now I can only hope for good luck. We leave the cars halfway up on a panoramic hill, and begin to go up the dirt road. Mauro tends the posts and on his face the disappointment in having to "jump" several beaten steps is evident in order to cover the area with the few people available. Vincenzo stops before me. "Try to cover the trot on your right as well!”Mauro suggests, knowing full well that with a few more guns it would be better, but that's the way it goes today. "Beautiful your mail!”I comment with a hint of envy to Vincenzo. "You have some beautiful trots beaten!". "You will see that yours will not be outdone!”He tells me smiling, and we say goodbye, each hoping that the other has fun. "Post number eight is this, Pina, stop here. You have to cover from that strawberry tree on your left to the step down there on the right”Mauro tells me. I look around, I choose a slightly raised and more panoramic position that allows me to broaden my view, I adjust the backpack and load the rifle. How pleasant it is after so many months to make these gestures! The Bar is light and easy to handle, I try to hold, I feel at ease, I'm happy to start over! In front of me the Valdarno is a lake of cream, completely covered by a dense and almost solid fog that hides its shapes and colors. Only a few bold cypress trees emerge from under the blanket. As the minutes go by, the valley reveals itself, like a modest woman in front of her beloved ... As I get lost in these poetic thoughts, the post on my right approaches and tells me "Eye huh! If you hear "Royal Mail" on the radio, be careful, this is it!". Wow! I don't know the reason for this name, but I can imagine it: I was really lucky! Today I feel it could be really good! FOLLOWS