17 May,2025 By Fake Travel News
Thanks to Emma, a travel blogger from New Jersey, for submitting this compelling entry to Fake Travel News where ancient wine legends come alive in a hidden gem Italian Town!
“Sant’Agata de’ Goti?” My friends stared blankly when I announced my destination. Even my Naples taxi driver raised an eyebrow. “Molto bella,” he nodded, “but why not Amalfi?”
I clutched my travel journal and smiled. Rumors of an enchanting wine legend had drawn me to this obscure town. As we approached, Sant’Agata de’ Goti revealed itself – honey-colored buildings perched dramatically on a tufa ridge, rising organically from the rock itself.
At my hotel, Elena greeted me with the warmth usually reserved for relatives. She handed me homemade limoncello.
“You’re American? Alone?” she asked with concern.
“Yes.” My lips puckered at the sourness and strength of the limoncello. “I’ve come to learn about the legend of the wine lovers.”
Her eyes lit up instantly. “Ah! The Due Amanti! Tomorrow, you must explore. The walls of this town speak of love, if you know how to listen.”
My two weaknesses…wine and love stories.
The next day, I missed the hotel breakfast (slept in) and went wandering through narrow medieval streets.
Lucky for me, a local winery was open early. So, let’s talk wine. The Mustilli winery in Sant’Agata has been producing bottles since 1979. In fact, they produced the first ever 100% Falanghina. Before their attempt, the grape was always used as a blend. This helped grow the Falanghina brand into one of the most popular wines in the region. Today the seminal bottle is proudly on display in the Mustilli cellars.
Anna Chiara, the daughter of the founder, was an amazing tour guide. She also introduced me to the winery mascot, a big and beautiful dog named Nana!
She walked me through the significance of the wine labels. The one on the right has a crown from an old church fresco in Sant’Agata, and the left represents the famous bridge leading into town.
These weren’t the best wine labels I saw that day. The vintage Falanghina label was artsy and elegant.
After countless glasses of white wine, I asked Anna about the legend of the two wine lovers. “You seek Marco and Bella? Their story is Sant’Agata’s heart.” She pointed toward a narrow street. “Follow that path to the old quarter. Look for the mural on the ancient cantina wall.”
The path led through increasingly narrow streets where buildings leaned toward each other as if sharing secrets. I steadied my gait as I wandered, the wine impacting me more than I expected. Then I saw it – striking street art on an ancient wine cellar wall. The mural depicted a woman and man partially transformed into red and white wine.
Their expressions captured such intimacy that I instinctively reached out to touch the wall. The red wine figure embraced her white wine counterpart, sharing a kiss as if it was their last, in a desperate attempt to preserve love.
“You’ve found our treasure,” came a voice behind me.
I turned to find an elderly woman watching me. Her face, creased and full of character, broke into a smile. She introduced herself as Sofia.
“Sit. You have eyes that understand beauty. Now you must hear the story that gives this art its soul – the tale of Marco and Bella, the lovers who became wine.”
Sofia settled beside me on a bench beneath a grape-heavy pergola. When she spoke, her voice carried the musical quality of a natural storyteller.
“In 1623, two winemaking families ruled Sant’Agata,” she began. “The Rossinis produced magnificent red wine from eastern slope grapes. The Bianchis created delicate white wines from western hill vineyards. For three generations, they remained bitter rivals.”
Sofia leaned closer. “Bella Rossini crafted robust, passionate red wines that ‘contained the very blood of the earth.’ Marco Bianchi created elegant white wines that ‘captured the tears of the morning dew.’ Their families despised each other.”
Despite the feud, fate intervened when Marco and Bella met at the spring festival. “They danced once,” she said, “and everything changed. They began meeting secretly – right here, beneath this very trellis.”
“But Marta, the herbalist who loved Marco since childhood, discovered their meetings. Some called her a witch for her knowledge of plant magic. Jealousy poisoned her heart.”
“On a blood-red moon night, Marta cast a terrible spell,” Sofia continued. “She waited until the lovers met, then threw a potion made from crushed grapes and bitter herbs upon them.”
The magic worked instantly. “Marco dissolved into a stream of shimmering white wine that flowed into a barrel appearing from nowhere. Bella transformed into deep red wine, captured in a second barrel. Marta separated them immediately, taking Marco’s barrel to the Bianchi cellar and Bella’s to the Rossini storehouse.”
“The families never discovered what happened to their children. They simply found mysterious barrels producing extraordinary wine that never ran out. In their grief, they blamed each other. Consequently, their feud grew even more bitter.”
I leaned forward. “So, they remained trapped as wine forever?”
Sofia raised one finger. “For fifty years, the enchanted wines brought fame to both families. Then came the Feast of Saint Agatha in 1673.”
“A young serving boy carried glasses of both wines when he tripped. The wines spilled together.”
Sofia’s hands swirled through the air. “Instead of mixing into rosé, the wines danced together while remaining distinct. As everyone watched in wonder, the wine rose, taking human forms.”
“Marco and Bella stood before them, aged but alive. Their hands clasped together after fifty years apart. They told their story to the astonished crowd. The feuding families, moved by this miracle, reconciled at last.”
Sofia’s eyes glistened. “From that day forward, we honor their love with our Due Amanti tradition – the Lovers’ Wine. Red and white share the same glass, distinct yet together, like two souls remaining true while joining in perfect harmony.”
“Come,” Sofia said, rising with surprising agility. “A story is better understood through experience.”
She led me to a small wine shop built into what appeared to be a medieval cave. Sofia’s nephew Paolo welcomed us warmly.
“His family has made wine here since before Marco and Bella’s time,” Sofia explained. “Some say he descends from the boy who broke the spell.”
Paolo took down a crystal glass. From two different bottles, he poured ruby-red Aglianico on one side and pale gold Falanghina on the other. The wines remained separate, divided by some invisible force.
“Now watch,” Paolo said softly. He tilted the glass in a circular motion, just once.
Instead of blending into rosé, the wines created intricate patterns. Ribbons of red and white swirled alongside each other, forming what looked like two profiles facing each other.
He handed me the glass. “Take the first sip without stirring further.”
I experienced the bright acidity of white wine first, followed immediately by the rich, velvety texture of red. These distinct flavors complemented each other perfectly. Neither dominated nor surrendered.
“It’s like…” I searched for words.
“A conversation between lovers,” Sofia finished. “Each speaks in their own voice yet creates something beautiful together.”
“You’ve come at a fortunate time,” Sofia told me. “Tonight is the Festival of Due Amanti. Once each year, on the day Marco and Bella reunited, our entire town celebrates their love.”
As dusk fell, Sant’Agata transformed. Lanterns decorated with red and white colors lined the medieval streets.
The town mayor raised a glass of Due Amanti wine. “To those separated who found their way back together, and those remaining true even in unity. To Marco and Bella, whose love flows eternal in every grape we harvest.”
The entire town echoed: “To Marco and Bella!”
Musicians began playing a melody both melancholy and joyful. A woman in flowing red and a man in white performed a dance telling the story I had learned. Their movements mirrored each other from a distance, came close without touching, and finally joined in swirling patterns reminiscent of the wine in Paolo’s glass.
Later, I returned to the mural. In the moonlight, the painted figures seemed almost alive. Their wine-forms flowed toward each other with yearning that transcended centuries.
I contemplated the story’s universal nature. Two people from different worlds, separated by forces beyond control, somehow find their way back together.
The Due Amanti wasn’t merely a quirky tradition. It physically manifested the idea that love endures transformations and separations. It showed two distinct individuals can unite without losing their uniqueness.
In Sant’Agata de’ Goti, red embraces white, love stories are cool, and solo travelers like myself are inspired to start dating again.
The non-fake disclaimer: Fake Travel News is a satire travel blog. We have fun creating and exaggerating travel stories from around the world, but we also love travel and the very real magic it grants to the human experience. For non-fake information on travel in Italy, you can visit the following link: The Ultimate Italy Travel Guide • The Blonde Abroad
