In the Beginning...[End, Middle??]

It's early August 2009, and my Eurofly jet has just touched down in the chaotic frenzy called Naples, Italy. The passengers, an overwhelming majority of Neopolitans, let out a collective cheer for the pilot, the plane and La Madonna as we touched the runway. For me, this is another new beginning, as my transformation from a 25 year career as a commodities trader moves forward, once again, to my passions of Italian wine, food and life in general. As of today, I am on a working vacation for my six month old job at New York's legendary wine emporium, Zachys, where I am an Italian wine consultant. How I got here and whence I came is for another time; today, my focus is on where I am. Life is good, not so wealthy as before but more rich in many other ways.

Today I visit Bruno De Conciliis and his azienda, just inland from Agropoli and other Italian coastal towns below the Amalfi zone. This area is known for it's beautifully preserved Greek temple, near the town of Paestum. I actually visited the area once before in the mid 90's and was amazed how this temple has withstood the test of time [the trick was this was an area that was a Malaria hot zone and remained untouched until the Italian government figured that it might be a good idea to drain the marshes and get rid of the mosquitoes]. It's August, the Continent is heading south la vacanza, it's before 8am and I've been awake for over 24 hours, yet Il Sole is ready and waiting for me. This part of Italy is probably more famous for its bufala mozzarella. As I sit while my brother-in-law, Antonio, drives, I grit my teeth as I become adjusted once again to driving in Italy. We pass numerous caseifici with their signs hawking their tangy white delicacy. Antonio and I do pretty well discussing many things even though my Italian has remained pretty constant, at a guttural, poor level for over 30 years.
Antonio and I are going to meet up with my Italian translators, as he is only the first driver for this leg of my trip. My translators are waiting looking tan and very excited to see their husband and father arriving from New York. Luckily for me for many reasons, my wife Lorella, was born in this area of Campania called Il Cilento and besides helping me express my interests on this trip it will also open many doors. My 11 year old son, Donald is riding shotgun, and though he and I know that visiting a winery for his Dad's business is not in his everyday top 10, being with him after a month away just might be worth it. We switch cars, Antonio goes off to work, hawking granita at the beach as his post retirement gig, and I go off to mine, to visit the cult Southern Italian winemaker, Bruno De Conciliis.