I’d made a few notes, but in the end we lazily made for the Arc de Germanicus, which we knew had been moved from its original site, where it had proved a blockage to traffic. It now occupies a large circular space close to the river.
Germanicus had been the nephew of the Emperor Tiberius, and the arch was erected to mark the monumental entrance to Gaul -Aquitaine – the ‘Mediolanum’, and the completion of the crossroads of Gaul, the ‘Via Agrippa’.
WE NEGLECT THE ROMAN STADIUM
Having in our travels in Europe (especially Italy) visited so many Roman stadia and amphitheatres, we decided it was just too hot to trail through the streets to find yet another one. So we just generally pottered around this attractive old town of white stone houses built mainly in the 17th century to the 19th, but left before it was time to eat dinner at any of the attractive restaurants.
Cross the bridge for cocktails
TAKE ANY ROAD…
We cruised around the area, keeping an eye open for a likely place, but what we eventually found were some umbrella-shaded tables overlooking the river –overspill from a large hotel just over the road.
MUSIC AND COCKTAILS:
There was music, and a band about to start up, and people were sipping cocktails. Now I have had very, very few cocktails in my long life, and I suddenly decided I’d like to try one. We spent a good hour relaxing while the sun went down; then made our way back to Taillebourg, meaning to try the better-class auberge. But we found it closed – also the restaurant in the hotel by the river.
River restaurant
FREE-RANGE CHILDREN CAN RUIN ANY MEAL
So we went back to the same place as the evening before. Only this time there was a large party of families with very noisy and unruly children, who were constantly running in and out, shouting and playing with the settings on the ready-laid tables. If that were not enough, the food that evening was abysmal.
We had the same nice waitress, who did her best to tame those children – but their parents were totally indifferent. I wondered – could this group be English? We’d always found in our Continental travels that French and Italian – and certainly German children, all knew how to behave in public. But no; a mother actually chided her child in rapid French. I felt a little better then, and mentally apologised to all the British parents who do keep their kids in order…
NO GOOD REVUE THIS TIME
As for the food that evening – I concluded there must have been a change of chef. I decided that instead of writing the five-star revue I had planned the night before, the kindest (and most honest) thing was to not put anything at all on Trip Advisor.
We took a last little walk along the riverbank while Graham experimented at using the dying light for ‘special effects’
Then it was back to Cynlyns. John and Valerie were not to be found – evidently enjoying each other’s company. We debated watching some television in the atrium lounge, but opted instead for a nice long read in bed. Clean clothes for the morning waited in our backpacks.
WE FOUND IT HARD TO LEAVE THIS GREAT B&B
We found it hard to leave this lovely haven, and indeed, John and Valerie seemed happy to chat over the breakfast table. Then there were photographs to take. Finally we made for our car and the next leg of our journey. Only a three-hour drive direct – but we were about to enter the Dordogne, regarded by many as the most scenically beautiful area in all France, so it was not about to be a quick drive-through…
Even so – we were setting out well rested and full of contentment, thanks to the seamless professionalism and genuine friendliness of Valerie and John in sharing their lovely home. We assured them that only illness would stop us from booking a week with them next year.
Pompei was our next stop, where we were fearful of taking our germs. We were both thankful that the journey that day took only 2hrs 22 minutes, because by now the influenza symptoms were raging within me, also. We both dreamed of taking our aching limbs straight back into bed.
POMPEI – HOW WE FIRST MET OUR ITALIAN FAMILY
We had booked four nights with Martina and her brother Salvatore in their B&B La Casa di Plinio. For some years now it has been rated in Trip Advisor as the No.1 ‘Hotel’ in Pompei. This was our fourth stay with them. We had received such a warm welcome on our very first visit in 2009 to view the ruins, when Martina’s mother, Antonella, was in charge of La Casa de Plinio (Martina being on holiday).
Antonella had insisted on ushering us into the owner’s private kitchen, where she plied us with wine and cakes (we had been out for a pizza already). When her husband, Andrea, came in from work, we settled into a convivial evening, with the help of a tablet he owned (very new, then) which translated our conversations both ways.
POMPEI – GOING BACK IN ORDER TO SEE THE REST OF ANCIENT POMPEII
So in 2011 we arranged our route to stay a night or two at La Casa di Plinio with this welcoming family on our way down to the heel of Italy.
We also booked five nights in 2014, planning to view the ‘other end’ of the vast Roman site. (We like to take our time and explore in depth).
IN 2014 CONSERVATION OF ANCIENT POMPEII LED US TO HERCULANEUM
It was a bitter disappointment then to find that all the great villas at the station end of the Pompeii site were closed for conservation – including the famous brothel, with its naughty murals.
POMPEI – A ‘DROP-EVERYTHING’ WELCOME
Vincenzo
The minute we arrived at La Casa di Plinio in 2014 Martina must have telephoned the entire family, because within ten minutes all were there, kissing and hugging us. Martina’s partner Vincenzo, and Salvatore, her brother roared up on their motorbikes. They had taken time off work just in order to show us their pleasure at our arrival!
2014 – WE ARE TOLD ‘YOU ARE OUR FAMILY’
Martina and Salvatore’s mother, Antonella, closely followed them. She is an incredibly beautiful woman with a heart as fair as her face. She was leading HER mother…
That was when we were told ‘you are our family, Jackie; Graham. You eat with us tonight. Andrea will be home from Naples.’ Thus was formed a bond which will never break. Italians really treasure ‘famiglia’. More openly apparent than in some families back in England.
HERCULANEUM
WE ‘TRY’ HERCULANEUM – AND FIND IT REWARDING
We had already thoroughly explored the two colossea in Pompeii: Also the forum, the graveyard and the numerous streets that led to the site café. We reluctantly decided that perhaps a trip to nearby Herculaneum might be the better option on that holiday. It was a fortunate decision. In some ways the smaller site is more rewarding. In Herculaneum many houses, and even blocks of Roman flats, are still quite intact. This was due to the way the holiday resort was instantly buried under hot ash. This preserved even wooden furniture (now in Naples museum) and balcony rails and still-bright roof tiles. I would love to see one house furnished with replicas of the originals.
HERCULANEUM – FOSSILISED SKELETONS OF FLEEING FAMILIES
Instead of casts of the bodies found, as in Pompeii, in Herculaneum you can still view the fossilized skeletons of the families who had fled to the ‘last haven’ – the boathouses by the old seashore. We found it intensely moving, as did Lolly and other visitors on our later trips.
POMPEI – DRIVING AROUND VESUVIUS
We also drove the winding road around Vesuvius, discovering some intriguing towns. One was full of very good wall paintings. We bought excellent ‘volcanic’ wine, and fresh cherries and other fruits from farmers selling at the roadside.
POMPEI – A FEAST WITH OUR ITALIAN ‘FAMIGLIA’
There was a memorable feast that year (2014) with our ‘famiglia’. It was the night before we first explored Bari, and hopped on the overnight ferry to Croatia. It was supposed to be our treat to our lovely host family. However, we strongly suspected that Andrea, the father, had another arrangement with the owner of the restaurant they picked.
– AND AN ASSORTMENT OF RELATIVES AND FRIENDS
We sat outside at a large table placed beneath cunningly lit vines. It was all very romantic. Andrea insisted on taking over the ordering. Food kept coming – in the Italian way. As did various relatives and friends of the family. They would turn up and plonk themselves down on a spare chair, and often partake of a course or two. This is also a common Italian custom. The lovable Italian people open their big hearts so readily. They are the experts in extending celebration and welcome to all who seek them out: An example to us all.
Since then we have been embraced as part of the Casa di Plinio family – Antonella, Andrea, and their children Salvatore and Martina; and Martina’s partner, Vincenzo.
POMPEI – BACK IN 2016 AGAIN – HUGS, KISSES AND COOKING:
As usual, the moment we turned into the courtyard, Martina was on her mobile phone, rushing down from her flat and letting us in through the large gate. Within fifteen minutes the entire family surrounded us. We were hugging and kissing (couldn’t stop them, but averted our faces when they kissed – we didn’t wish to pass on our germs).
Salvatore and Vincenzo had left their work, and had to rush back – but they still came. As usual, roaring up on their motorbikes.
Andrea’s work took him much further afield, but that evening he cooked a special welcome meal for us in the house where he and Antonella live. Graham and I struggled to do justice to the delicious food, the ‘flu having robbed us of all appetite.
POMPEI – WE RECEIVE TLC.
Our Italian family (they long ago adopted us) were great. I don’t know what we would have done without their loving help. They were in the throes of redecorating all the rooms, which they do every year. They did not close while the refurbishing went on, as they had planned.
Despite this we both stayed in bed for three days, and because I was still very poorly they agreed that we could stay out the week, which gave me two more days in bed. So Martina accepted another couple, and also an Italian family, the mother of whom became a thorn in her side. ‘I’ll never accept Italians again. They are the worst,’ she declared. (I’m sure that’s not true, really.)
MARTINA NURSES ME – AND CANCELS OUR NEXT B&B’S
Graham got up on the fourth day but I stayed in bed. Martina had the work of cancelling two nights at Cinque Terre and one at Orange, which we had both looked forward to seeing. We’d also very regretfully cancelled our original booking to stay again at the charming house of Svetlana and Lucio Bigero in the eco-park of Selva Grande. They are very charming people, who welcome you into their home. The accommodation is spacious and colourful, and full of good art. The rest of the house is also a reflection of its lively minded and artistic owners, with lots of books and musical instruments.
B&B Villa Selva Grande, 00060 Sant’Oreste, Metropolitan City of Rome, Italy. Phone: +39 329 681 7194
Whilst there, we had planned to again eat at a small restaurant where the chef is ‘passionate about food’. It is situated at the foot of a nearby mountaintop town full of artists and craftsmen. Even the little shops were artistic and colourful.
Instead, we decided on a more direct route of one-night stops in order to reach the Channel tunnel on the 29th November.
POMPEI – HOT DRINKS AND A LIGHT, NUTRITIOUS LUNCH
Meanwhile, Martina kept popping in with hot drinks and offers to make food. We declined, until on our last day, when I knew I must get up (we’d be travelling next morning).
To our surprise Antonella arrived and cooked lunch for everyone, including Martina’s delightful, hardworking assistant, Anna. We met her wedged in, crowded around the small table. She was passing bowls of a very light spaghetti dish containing Calabrese (and celery? It was a long time ago). I know the sauce was light green and so delicious that I managed to eat half of my bowlful.
Farewell Lunch at La Casa di Plinio
POMPEI – CAR REPAIRS – FAMILY FAREWELLS.
We left Pompei on Sunday the 20th. November, 2016.
I felt pretty rough, but just well enough to travel. At least the delay had given Graham time in the last day or two to use our friends’ motor mechanic to check out the Golf. (After all our challenges our eleven-year-old steed was starting to show signs of wear.)
A Good job, too! The mechanic found two valves in the water system that were almost blocked. He replaced the cheapest and cleaned the dearest, and said we should now have no trouble and safely see the white cliffs of Dover. (How we were going to do that from the tunnel begs the question…) Graham, delighted by the low bill, said he was being cheerfully Italian.
LEMON & ORANGES FROM THE TREE
Before we left Graham went into our friends’ garden and picked a lemon and some oranges. The temperature in the sun was a pleasant 21C. So with the warmth and the sun shining, not a bad place to have ‘flu, we thought. Better than England in mid-November.
POMPEI – IF THEY STILL HAVE SPACE – DO NOT MISS THIS SPECIAL B&B:
B&B La Casa Di Plinio Via Stabiana 3, 80045 Pompei, Italy.
Home: 0818598960; Martina Mobile: 00393339453170; Salvatore Mobile: 00393934008187
e mail: info@lacasadiplinio.com
Within 40 minutes we were entering Italy, though we found no border and no guards to check our passports. You would hardly notice the tiny sign tacked onto the rock walls of the mountain tunnel: It read simply ‘Italy’ above the red, white and green flag. (That’s the EU for you! A world without borders would be a nice thing to aim for.)
One of the many colonnades in NovaraThis tower could be seen miles away – up close it was very impressive
We were taking a route to revisit Novara, though I now see that Rivoliwas right on our road. Since 2016 I have learned that Rivoliis a ‘Must – see’ place. We missed – but you need not. Novarais a mainly modern town, but beautiful, with spacious elegant streets and squares paved in cream marble and stone tiles – even the roadways. As we arrived a sudden cloudburst sent us scurrying from our car to the shelter of the gracefully colonnaded streets, which we followed towards our destination.
This gilded statue seemed to hover in the sunlight
We did not, sadly, this time find the square with the many fountains, but we did visit the beautiful Basilica di San Gaudenzio . It has an especially impressive four-tiered cupola by the famed architect Antonelli. (It is visible for miles).
A FINE BUILDING – GOOD INFO
It is a fine building with good info:
The interior, apart from its side chapels (most famous being those of The Guardian Angel, with beautiful frescoes – and another to The Good Death), is relatively empty compared to other Italian church interiors. But the pillars are attractive – painted in designs reminiscent of the contemporary Books of Hours. The inlaid marble floor is beautiful, too. Most striking is the almost hidden gold figure of a saint in flight. He is holding a banner. I believe him to be San Salvatore.
Other Special sights in Novara –I P Broletto’s arcaded building; the Cathedral of Santa Martia Asssienta (huge, impressive, amazing statues; Casa Bossi (a lovely Romanesque building – hidden gem with a great past).
NOT ENOUGH TIME IN THIS CHARMING CITY
As usual, we could not spend enough time in this charming city on this, our third visit. We had to find the E64 to Presezzo The total drive from Embrun takes 5 hrs; but mainly we suffered from the intense heat, since our car’s air-conditioning had been wrecked by a careless mechanic during the pre-holiday checkup– and not worth replacing in a 2005 vehicle.
Lap of Luxury.
DAY 10: 11th & 12th September:
PRESEZZO – FIRST OVERNIGHT STOP IN ITALY
This is where we really lucked in. I don’t think we could have afforded this hotel while booking a three-month tour – our one and only. Luckily it came up on Booking.com with a generous special offer, and so we were able to enjoy staying in the lap of luxury for two nights.
A most strikingly beautiful conversion from a former ancient farm, we enjoyed everything about our stay.
BATHROOM WORTHY OF A POEM
Our semicircular ivory and malachite-tiled bathroom was worthy of a poem. The truly spacious bedroom had a curtained sitting area with couch, full sized TV, large refrigerator, and ample cupboards. I threw myself down on the enormous bed, exhausted from journeying (why is sitting in a car passenger seat so exhausting, I wonder?).
We enjoyed having drinks brought to us on the terrace, and walking through the many varied rooms – each with a different decor. Modern sculptures and paintings were successfully blended with antique furniture in many of the dining rooms – all uniquely different. There was an elegant small indoor bar, where you could ‘dive’ down steps through a cave entrance to find the gym and indoor swimming pool (there were smaller versions of both outside in the grounds). This place was such heaven that we did not explore the area far.
Settecento Hotel Via Milano, 3, 24030 Presezzo, Italy. (Our photos did not come out well, so please look it up for yourselves if interested).
Because of the heat we did not go to Bergamo on our free day in Presezzo, as planned.
The route we took on our day drip to Lago Isleo
Lazing by a Lovely Lake.
Instead, we visited the very small LagoIseo – and took a boat to the island in the middle. It was beautiful, though we soon got tired of walking – it was so hot. So we went back to the gelato by the quay and had Italian ice creams, then caught the little boat back to make use of the great facilities in our hotel for a welcome rest. I would LOVE to go back to both the lake and hotel. Here are some photos:
We would love some Ice Cream
All the Italian Northern lakesare beautiful – with anisland and a castle on top
The cypress that grow in the lake are very special
AMAZING FAMOUS ROMAN MOSAICS – LOVELY MEAL – TAORMINA – GREAT SMALL HOTEL
12th November:.
ANGER ENDS IN DELIGHT
We did have an adventure on our last day in Sicily, of course…
Despite debilitating influenza raging within us both, we were in any case faced with the long journey home. Our well-developed avidity to see everything of possible interest to us on our tours was difficult to shake off, even while fighting headaches and deep weariness.
“We’ve plenty of time to go and see this famous Roman pavement,” I pointed out in bed that morning. “All the guides say it is a must,” I pleaded.
Of course, Graham had to Google it to make sure he could trust my word, but then he readily agreed, because it was practically on our road, the SP15; and just 1hr 44 minutes away on the direct route to Taormina. There we would be staying overnight before catching the ferry. Our total driving time that day was estimated as 3 hours, 46 minutes.
So off we went, after stopping for Graham to snap an attractive sea of roofs belonging to the town of Trony that sat level with our road. Then we carried on down, deviating just a mile or less from the highway to find the turn-off to the Roman villa. This seemed to us to be at least another two slow miles along a narrow lane.
Chiesa San Martino, Trony
A RARE RIP-OFF FOR ITALY?
Finally we turned into a large car park. A man in a ticket office demanded money –a steep (for Italy) 11 euros each, before we even parked our car. In order to do this we had to pass two rows of booths selling bric-a-brac, tee shirts and souvenirs of varying quality. There was even (horror of horrors in Sicily, so famous for its cuisine) a hotdog stand. I had my walking stick, which was as well, because the ticket seller pointed up a steep track to a small building. His English was not good, but in any case he was brusque and dismissive in the extreme.
I STRUGGLE UPHILL FOR NOTHING
It was a challenging climb for me, especially in the heat (well over 30C). Panting, we finally arrived there, only to be told that the pavement was a further kilometre uphill. (The same narrow, roughish track.) When Graham asked if there was availability for invalid parking he got a curt ‘No’. So my darling asked if he could not drive me up the track.
“No.”
With my disability I could certainly not manage the long climb up to the villa – even using my stick. (Perhaps by now there is invalid access…)
RUDE STAFF – AND NEED FOR AN INFORMATION BOARD –
Fuming at the waste of our time Graham stalked down to the ticket hut and demanded his money back. We did not realise then – and there was no explanation – why those fees were so steep. They were very high for Italy. Since returning home I have seen pictures of the exceptionally fine, very detailed and bright mosaics. There are a great many, and they cost £18 million to clean up.
An information board in several languages with a few illustrations would have helped immensely towards our understanding – as would a more courteous and helpful staff.
Had we known more at the time, we would happily have paid up – could I have accessed the site
I have since seen even more pictures of these mosaics on Google – and they really are truly exceptional. I urge you to make the journey to go and see them if such antique art interests you. Here are a a sample taken from the site that I have put a link to and I hope they don’t mind us showing them here on our blog.
Of course, we had no idea what we were missing. When Graham climbed back into our car he was so incensed that I had to shout at him to remind him that on the way in we had passed a very nice-looking trattoria. Grumbling at me, he hurled our car in to park in front of this place full of old amphora and other Roman memorabilia – and even in November – lots of lovely flowers. I hold that spotting abundant flowers outside an eating-place is a sign that you may expect good food. I’m rarely wrong.
Trattoria La Ruota
IN PIAZZA ARMERINA – WE ENJOY OUR BEST MEAL IN SICILY
And so it proved. We enjoyed our best meal in the whole of Sicily. Our waiter was friendly, and spoke fluent English. He restored our sense of humour with his wit; especially his colourful opinions of the ticket seller down the road. It is only since finding the bill amongst my souvenirs that I realise he had cunningly inserted another 3 euros with no explanation – so study your bill. In the event, it was not enough to break our bank…
So it was with full tummies, and in a far happier frame of mind that we drove the short way to the SP15. We finally coasted easily down the road to our final, friendly hostelry in Sicilia.
TAORMINA GARDEN HOTEL.
DAY 7:
LAST NIGHT IN SICILY –
I gave it 5 stars in my Trip Advisor review:
We booked this hotel for our last night in Sicily. (Seventeen days still left to return home in our car from our three-month tour.) This was one of the very best places we stayed in. Although the room was small, it was pleasant and quiet. We loved the gardens and the shoreline mini-bay, with rock boulders and little boats. It even had its own bar. We went down in moonlight – it would be idyllic for honeymooners.***
Famous Roman Mosaics – Moonlit Cove
THIS COULD HAVE BEEN A MINI RITZ – GREAT SERVICE IN A SMALL HOTEL
The staff were all friendly and helpful – and THOROUGHLY professional. (The manager had risen in the ranks in the Dorchester Hotel, London.) He was not only charming and attentive; he showed real concern that Graham was not well. He would not allow him to carry any of our luggage, but himself brought all of it down the tricky steps from the small parking area just off-road.
We could have been staying at the Ritz instead of this very small, very affordable hotel. The food we had (both still suffering from ‘flu) seemed unadventurous – but then, we had little appetite, so disregard and judge for yourselves. Breakfast was good. We met nice people staying there – lots of Italians who probably go back and back… We Thoroughly recommend.
Next time, although our room was good, I’d love one on the lower level, which might have sea views…
We were going on a ‘drive of discovery’ when, close to Tricarico, we happened on this restaurant at 2pm on All Saints Day – another Bank Holiday. We were hungry, but expected to find the door locked.
Not a bit of it! The first thing that caught my eye was the strange headdresses hanging on the wall. Multi-coloured ribbon streamers hung from one; the other was black. Nearby a log fire was blazing in the large grate, and even at this time of day, two or three tables were occupied.
WE GET A COUNTRY WELCOME!
Everyone looked up and gave us ‘Buon Giorno’, and the son of the house hurried to welcome us. He offered us a table near the fire, but we thought that might be too hot. So he placed us near some rapidly filling tables in the middle of the room.
SURELY A LOCAL RITE LOST IN ANTIQUITY
Carnevale delle Maschere
We asked him about those long-ribboned headdresses.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Those are my father’s and mine. We wore them for the Carnevale delle Maschere, Tricarico. My father was all in black, with the red streamers. He represented the bull. I was the cow.’ Seeing our puzzled faces, he quickly explained – though by now the other local customers were anxious to add their bit.
It seems that sometime in January comes the day dedicated to the patron saint of animals. Local people take their animals (many adorned with beads and necklaces) to pass round the local church three times. The animals then enter to be blessed. Well, we have something similar in Britain – but not like this. I hope I’ve remembered this aright –
‘The old town is awoken at dawn by ‘low’ bells: The same service is provided by drums and clashing wooden battens. There follows a procession of men dressed from head to toe in white or black – women are forbidden.’ he continued.
‘The men in black wear the black headdresses with scarlet streamers down to their feet. They represent bulls. Those in white wear multi-coloured streamers – they are the cows. They all shake cow bells as they walk, as do the animals awaiting blessing, as bells are hung to their harnesses.’
It seems they are presently joined by the townspeople. At intervals there is a ritual ‘fertility dance’ between cows and bulls, with an enactment of the inevitable outcome. Rude humour indeed.
This sounds very primitive indeed – and reminded us of our English maypoles and Morris men. One wonders just how universal these old rites are – and just how old?
The festival lasts several days, but the procession of ‘masks’ is repeated on the Sunday, when the procession climbs up to a chapel ‘at the top of the mountain’. I cannot be sure, but it seems logical that is where the animals are blessed. There are feasts also – but when was not made clear.
‘Do you know that Tricarico is placed on a ‘transhumance’ route?’ A man in the far corner piped up. His English was good. ‘Which means,’ he continued, ‘that in the proper time and place animals and men can change into each other – and back again?’
‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ quipped another, and they all joked in Italian.
‘Because of this custom Tricarico,’ Our informant resumed, somewhat importantly, ‘–and its masks, in 2009 became part of the European Federation of Carnival Cities. It is a founding member of the Southern Italy Carnival Network.’
Antipasti
A TRULY LOCAL, RUSTIC MENU
Suddenly, we all became aware of filling tables. The son of the house quickly handed us a menu and moved on.
The menu he handed us was not large – but boy, it was tempting. Hard to choose…
After a ‘lagniappe welcome’ of buffalo mozzarella whipped with chopped hazelnuts (or was it walnuts?) we each then enjoyed a very nice, generous starter. Graham was delighted with the quality of the varied antipasti; he particularly enjoys a slice of good, paper-thin braesola, and there was plenty of that for him.
Carving the Boar
WILD BOAR – FOOD FOR THE GODS
Next we shared a mixed salad, and then were served with beautifully cooked wild boar meat and porcini. (We both chose the same because there should be a poem written about this dish – oh boy!).
A HIDDEN GEM WELL WORTH FINDING
We cannot remember if we had desserts – we were probably too stuffed. We still somewhere have the receipt for this feast, and it was amazingly low-priced. A hidden gem – do find it if you are travelling that way – and it’s a beautiful drive on the top road leading to Tricarico. _Ristoro_della_Civita-Tricarico_
Turbines by the roadside
A SHORT WALK YIELDS PHOTOGRAPHS
After coming out of the restaurant we headed down a side road for a way. I had pointed out to Graham the satisfying curve made by the very tall wind turbines that had been installed – rather incongruously, on that lonely road. Even so, those stark vertical lines sweetly curving on the edge of a seeming precipice (for the ‘view’ was set well back behind them, across an invisible divide) made an arresting contrast.
A CRUMBLING BEAUTY
Masseria
While Graham trotted off with his camera, I dove down a steep, short track, and was soon rewarded by the charm of a dilapidated but once-gracious masseria. It looked to be a few centuries old, but that may have been the effect of decay.
I went to join Graham and told him of my find, and when he was satisfied with his photo shots he followed me to my vantage point. Equally enthusiastic, he took a few photos, but said he was by no means certain that the place was empty, as I had assumed. He pointed to a TV aerial on the roof. Being British, we were relieved that nobody came out of the house and spotted our interest. So fond are we of this old building that we make no apologies if it has already appeared on another blog. We think it bears a second viewing…
Lone Tree
SO OFTEN TOMORROW NEVER COMES…
Afterwards, we completed the short ‘new’ road into Tricarico, and this time became aware that just up from the square, behind all the parked cars, there was a complete medieval city. However, the sky was darkening, and there were spots of rain, and the narrow, grey streets looked dauntingly steep to me. So we left it ‘for later’. As so often, that ‘later’ never came. We never learn…
We had already discovered Miglionico, a pretty, historical hilltop town with a large and important 11thc castle (called Malconsiglio, because of bad advice, leading to extremely bloody disputes between the king and his barons – a Basilicatan King John?)
It is also famous for its main (Mother) church, Santa Maria Maggiore, which is about as old. It has a Romanesque bell tower and famous polyptrych – an eighteen-panel masterpiece, painted in 1499.
The 18 panel 15th cen. Polytrych masterpiece to be found in Santa Maria Maggiore, Miglionico
It also had one of the most moving crucifixes I have ever seen; very old and executed in painted wood, it can be seen near the main door. Adjoining it is the convent of San Francesco, back of the main piazza, where the men regularly gather in the late afternoon, soon to be joined by their women and children on the regular evening ‘promenade’ through the streets, a charming practice of the entire region. High up facing the piazza in a niche was an exquisite Pieta.
A beautiful Pieta in a high niche on the outside wall of Santa Maria Maggiore, Miglionico
Another church is Santa Maria delle Grazie; very tiny, hidden in a back street. It is also very old, and simple, both inside and out – except for the glorious, delicate frescoes around the altar, especially that showing the nativity. They were painted by Giovanni Antonio Bazzi – known as ‘Sodoma’.
Miglionico’s piazza- where everyone promenade in the evening
WE ARE A STAR ACT – USING LOCAL SHOPS
We regularly shopped in Miglionico for our food, (We prefer using local shops rather than spending our money in large supermarkets; invariably the food is fresher and in Italy, we found, cheaper. Doing this has extended our knowledge.) It also gives great amusement to the local housewives. We will never forget the first time we walked into the ‘frutti’ (greengrocers) where we suddenly became a comic turn and before long, the star attraction. All business stopped while we were served. The waiting ladies would have a great laugh at our struggles with Italian, and a fun time was had by all.
We always emerged with several bulging bags of fruit and veg for about 6 euros. If I could still just taste those grapes! Everything was local and organic and fresh, fresh, fresh (except for bananas). The proprietress would never let us select our own veg and fruit but chose it for us, stuffing great quantities into a carrier bag or even two. Her customers, grinning broadly, were quite happy to wait their turn.
Graham spread his custom amongst three butchers. One sold his own tender and tasty reared beef and veal – and whole legs of lamb (never knew what happened to the other bits). His rivals had a bigger selection; both were charming, but the rivals charged more. We would also be treated to a friendly greeting from the grocer running the mini-supermarket: All of which got us feeling like regular visitors (even friends?) of the little town.
On Lolly’s first day we took her for that nostalgic experience, and also stopped for coffee in a small local bar. Lolly was a bit disconcerted to find it patronised only by men; we later found a place where women could enjoy coffee and chat in mixed company.
GRAHAM IS BEFRIENDED.
Vincenzo – A man who befriended us and shared many of Miglionico’s secrets
We were struggling to find out about the local wines in the big 2 litre plastic containers (costing about €4) when a local gentleman who introduced himself as Vincenzo helped us. He spoke perfect English, having spent some years as a waiter in a posh London hotel.
Vincenzo took us on a tour of the town, including a walk right round the extensive castle walls. We old girls were both exhausted by the heat and hung behind, so missed his telling of all the historical details, but I Googled them later.
The wall walk around the town – Vincenzo first took us here in Miglionico
It’s All About The Meat!
We also that evening had an amazing meal behind a macelleria (butcher’s shop). The butcher, as fat as Falstaff and as jolly, brought out dish after dish on plastic plates. Thin slices of almost-white cheese came first; small rounds, so I guess they were taken from one of those little cheeses that look like balloons or lamps; very special to this area and made from sheep’s milk. Small dishes of finely cut red, yellow and green capsicums from his own garden followed, simmered in olive oil, and would you believe – thin slices of raw pumpkin, which to our surprise tasted tender, sweet and delicious! Then that crusty bread they have, toasted and drenched in olive oil and sprinkled with fresh herbs – also delicious!
But eating at Peppino’s was all about the meat, which came in generous portions, wafting rich smells, and cooked superbly. Graham chose veal, which was so tender he could cut it with his fork. I was brave and chose horse; I think Peppino thought that because I am Inglese he had to cook it ‘well done’. I intended to go back and ask for it ‘bleu’; more tender and juicy that way. We were surprised when he appeared with a large plate of little pork twists to share – utterly tasty and soft. When asked, he said they came from the back of the neck.
Peppino’s food is rated on Trip Advisor as No.1 in his town; all 5-star reviews except one, which bellyached about plastic plates and tablecloths – but it’s all about the food, which tasted divine – and the whole meal, which included wine and bottled water, cost 15 euros each.
We made friends with the other customers – six adults who were staying for the hunting (deer, boar and wolf, and numerous birds of prey, including vultures and eagles). They took us with them to finish off our meal in a smart Pasticceria, where we had Kaffé and little cakes. Nowhere like Italy for fresh coffee! Men, women and children would all come in, to stand and drink at the counter or sit at one of the two small tables with three chairs apiece. We bought a cake each to consume there and came away with a box of a dozen assorted from the vast display.
Santa Maria Maggiore from the castle – Miglionico
The man called Lucio also invited us to stay with him for a few nights. He is a retired banker, from Milano. He now lives close to Lecce, one of the foremost artistic towns in South Italy. He does ‘B&B for friends’. (This is why Graham and I just love Italians – as open and hospitable as the Americans of New Orleans. They told Graham that we are not like other Inglese; news I shall convey with great glee to our families, as we two have always been the ‘bit weird ones’ with our own folks.) Funny – we have made so many friends abroad – Lolly and her family and friends in USA; now three B&B hosts and a winegrower in France, Vjekoslav in Croatia, and so far three families in Italy – one of which, as you will learn, has become very special to us – oh, and the hotelier in Crete who plied us with Metaxa and invited us to a party, where he demonstrated to all present how he made Raki. And all because I recognised a photo of his grandfather as being an ‘Andarte’ – a mountain guerrilla fighter in WW2. )
WE FEEL NEGLECTFUL.
We felt ‘at home’ in Miglionico; consequently we rather neglected our ‘hometown’ of Grottole.
The ruins of the beautiful Romanesques Basilica at Grottole
We made an initial attempt to explore Grottole castle and ruined basilica that together made an unmistakable silhouette right at the top of the conical volcanic ‘plug’, recognisable from miles around in the land below. This excursion was thwarted in the main, certainly for me, because there was nowhere close enough to park, although I did take a quick glimpse into the tiny church further down. It was extremely old and very plain, but local ladies were dressing the life-size saint or Virgin Mary in real clothes, of a richness they most likely could not afford for themselves. (We saw many such ‘clothed’ saints in the area.)
One of the ancient churches in Grottole
Mostly we tended to drive through Grottole rather than using local shops in the town, although there was an attractive, very clean and bright mini-market. This was a pity, because the proprietress was very friendly and helpful, and her English was perfect, unlike the struggles on both sides to get understood in Miglionico. The thing was – that seemed to be the ONLY food shop in Grottole, apart from one butcher with no parking space that we could see. Mainly, I think, we were finding it such fun to shop in the old way, almost entirely lost back home; going from shop to shop, engaging in banter made even more enjoyable by language stumbles, which led to mutual laughter. It was an excursion we always looked forward to.
