A place where the earth, which turns red in the evening and is combed by the wind coming from the Iblei, rests on one side of a road: the SP68. Everything started nineteen years ago at Fossa di Lupo. A magical place where the earth, which turns red in the evening and is combed by the wind coming from the Iblei, rests on one side of a road: the SP68. A state road like many others, but with a special story. Once it was made of stone, narrow little more than a path; three thousand years ago it connected Gela to Kamarina, it ran - as today - the roads of Cerasuolo di Vittoria and from Caltagirone it continued to Catania and Lentini. There, squeezed between sky and earth, the line of that road also marked my destiny. To the first hectare of land next to my wine press, at Fossa di Lupo, others followed. The company has also expanded in the Bombolieri, Bastonaca and Pettineo districts. Yet it is still like the first year. Even Bombolieri is located on the SP68. The vineyard here ranges and hunches over the limestone base of the district, the vines are twenty and more years old, and the courtyard onto which the cellars overlook manages to trap all the solar strength of the Iblei. Never as in this new arrival do I feel like I have followed a consistent path. Never as in Bombolieri do I feel that I am carrying the past and the future at the same time. It was the oldest wine road ever attested. On that road generations and generations of farmers had set off to bring their wine to the coast.
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