A pale grey morning for our first walk, though the jerseys soon came off as we tacked our first hill. This is the throbbing heart of the village on whose outskirts our hotel is perched. It's not a busy place; I saw no shops. This is the old church, whose door lintel is supported by scaffolding - there is a larger, more functioning one just behind where I was standing.
For the rest of the day we walked through vineyards and stands of hazelnut trees ( this is Ferrero Rocher country), fig trees, peaches, pears and pomegranates. I ate a ripe fig from the tree and tasted the Nebbiolo grape at the invitation of the owner who came upon us having our picnic at the edge of his vineyard.
It's beautiful. And it's very hilly ...