Prosecco memes are by far one of my ‘mostly likely to be tagged’ posts on social media. So it seemed only fitting to see if I could visit this magical region. Although last night I had great challenges in finding an official wine tour that had availability or were open to talk with me last night was extremely challenging. I’d forgotten that it will be Saturday so I assumed if it’s anything like wine regions I’m familiar with back home it’d be one of their busiest days. After finding where the area was I had looked into going solo and had planned to have a sleep in and filling the second half of my day working out how to find the region that creates my favourite beverage.
When I wake two of my room mates have already either left or checked out. But my actor friend wakes around the same time as me and we both chat as start to pack up and head out.

I’m feeling really excited about the prospect of visiting a winery or two. But whatever happens I’ll be right there, where it all started.
Check out is simple and I store my bags so I can head out. I was going to grab some breakfast but was keen to get going. So I head to Mestre station and eventually find where to buy a ticket. Seems there’s a ‘Venice’ public transport area, and another one that sells everything else but regional train tickets. So I take the mans directions and find the automated ticket machine. I know which station I need to go to so it’s quite simple. I check the boards for my train and head to the platform. I’d noted that when I bought my ticket it asked me to “don’t forget to get your ticket stamped”. I had no idea what that meant but I did follow like a sheep when I went close to my platform seeing a machine people were putting their tickets into. Pays to be observant.

Nothing particularly special about it. Feels like being at Central Station in Sydney. Busy spot with trains, buses, trams and people coming and going.
The train arrives and as I get into the carriage I’m very impressed with the comfy seats and space you have. I grab a window seat front facing so I can enjoy the view.
The scenery quickly changes and all I seem to see is vine after vine, some looking like they’re just being grown in someone’s backyard. It’s quite surreal.

The weather is simply stunning and I check to see if this is what I can expect for the remainder of the day. It is!! I love being in the warmth of the sun.

Eventually I arrive an Conegliano train station and hop off the train. As I come out of the station I really feel like I’m going to have a very authentic experience. It’s definitely not covered in tourists and people taking photos. The streets were quiet and not many people around.
I look up and see beautiful architecture and a castle on the hill.

I’d found some information in my Lonely Planet last night about a tourist information centre that might be able to help with getting to a winery and I already knew it wasn’t far from the station. It’s hidden in amongst cobblestone alleys and old buildings.

I pop my head in, conscious that they’re closing for in about half an hour, but only for an hour. The lady there was super helpful but delivered some terrible news. The wineries don’t generally open on a Saturday, unless you’re with a booked tour and those that are open to the public on Saturday normally close at 12pm. It’s 12.30pm. Nooooooooo I am devastated. However not to worry because my trusty tourist information lady does some quick research and tells me there is a prosecco event only 5-6kms from there that I might like to go to. Wine tastings and like minded lovers of Prosecco. It sounds perfect, but I definitely need to eat first.
I walk through the old buildings to find somewhere to eat. It’s just an incredible sight to see.

I find a cafe and there’s no surprise that the prosecco is the cheapest thing on the menu. My waiter doesn’t speak English and I don’t speak Italian but the word prosecco he understands. The rest of the ordering is pointing and smiling.
A couple next to me sits down and as they’re speaking to the waiter I recognize that very unique Australian accent. I can’t help but say hello to fellow Aussies. They’re traveling around Europe together, and have come from Milan today. Apparently this is the area that the husbands family are from so essentially on a trip to meet them again for the firs time in 47 years. We share stories about common stops and then make comments about how they’d prefer to be traveling like me without a lot of plans.
I bid them farewell and head off for a cab. Another pointing and smiling exercise. I’d thankfully been given some promotional material about the event and this helped my driver take me to where I needed to go.
He’s very sweet and tells me in his best broken English that basically all the vines you can see are prosecco. I have found the holy grail. Can’t wipe the smile off my face.

We arrive and the location is not at all what I expected. Normally food and wine shows are held in large exhibition centres, but seems this looks like it’s a small hall with an outdoor area and a marquee. I pay the driver and he points out the pizzeria just 20m too. Not sure why this is but it actually becomes useful information in about 5 mins.
Seems the event is already over, no one is there and the gates are closed. I’m up the mountain in the middle of nowhere. I’m disappointed but only for a moment. As I look behind me to see the stunning views.

I decide to make my way over to the pizzeria and order a prosecco. For £2 it’s an easy choiceand although there’s a language barrier We all speak the language of prosecco. I look at the bottle they pour and recognize the words on it that indicate it’s from a winery just next door. So I sit outside and watch the world go by. Not even concerned about how I’ll get back to the train station. There’s old men playing a lively game of cards to my left and a little girl and her dad chatting away happily. I’m right at the doorway so everyone gives me a smile as they walk in. Obviously not a face they’re used to seeing. I order a second glass and just enjoy my time in this region. Another surreal experience that the photos don’t do it justice.
It’s time to head back, although I could do this all day if I had the time. But sadly I do not. I pop back inside to the bar and thank them. An older gentleman starts talking to me and I gesture I don’t speak Italian. There’s a lady next to him, probably my age, who recognizes I’m speaking English and asks me where I’m from. Seems everyone in the shop is now listening cause when I say Australia there are nods and ooooo’s and ahhhhh’s.
I ask if they can order me a taxi, given there hadn’t been one go past the entire time I was there. The lady speaking English tells me she’s headed back that way now if I wanted a lift. She’s headed to do some shopping apparently and not out of the way at all. She super friendly and shows me to her car where I see the same brochures I’d been given about the prosecco event. She’s one of the organizers and works for them. What a coincidence. She explains that today’s event doesn’t start till 6pm that night. I’m going to miss it obviously, but pleased I’d made the connection.
She’s so proud of her region and offers to take me the scenic route home to show off more of the beautiful landscape. She points out her home and some other points of interest. What an unexpected experience I’ve had that could never be planned if you tried.

I arrive safely to the station and a train is headed in my direction in about 10 minutes. It’s seems to be a fast train too as it’s not stopping at as many stops. I’m feeling so accomplished and proud of myself for the day I’ve had. Certainly beats spending $200+ on a wine tour that’s for sure.
The rest of the afternoon and night is spent preparing for my night bus to Matera, my next stop. I repack and prepare for my journey, with all important sandwiches, water and sleeping tablets. I’m a little apprehensive as this is not something I’ve done before but I’m sure it’s all going to be ok.
It’s not long before it’s time to go so I head to what I think is the bus area at the train station. Once again my observation skills get me out of a pickle. I see the bright green busses coming from around the corner. So I ask a local who also doesn’t speak English. Gestures and smiles head me in the right direction. I’d also download the bus company app and it live tracks the bus for you. So it’s easy to see I’ve not missed it either. Phew.

So I’m on the bus, with free WiFi, no changeovers and a night full of – well I have no idea!! But let the next adventure begin.