LEAVING GIVERNY, we took the A13 for CHARTRES. The road soon turned into the A928. It took us through mostly unremarkable agricultural land. In the town of Dreux, we saw again a sight that had intrigued us on previous visits.
As the main road passed through the centre of the little town, we were flanked on each side by an avenue of trees trimmed like identical cubes. They are not uncommon in this part of France. Admittedly they are novel; but somehow the allure in sacrificing their original beauty escapes us. ‘Law and Order’ gone mad, to our romantic minds.
ANET – A LONELY ROYAL PALACE
Thirty-five minutes down the road we HAD to stop. The road widened. In front of us, on the right-hand side of the road, was a most enormous, imposing building in the Classical style. A palace?
We pulled in by the kerb opposite. I was by this time desperate for a loo; a road sign indicated one just round the corner. By the time I’d hoofed it round and found it closed I was near to panic. With relief, we spotted a bar open on the other side of a wide stretch of gravel where we were parked.
Gatehouse
DIANE THE HUNTRESS – DUCHESS OR GODDESS?
One customer sat outside, and the proprietor looked startled as I dashed for his ‘WC’ at the back. Luckily, Graham followed me in. Soon we too were sitting outside under an awning, sipping citron pressé. The gentleman quaffing his drink informed us that we were in Anet. The ‘palace’ was in fact, a hunting lodge, built for Diane de Poitiers, a great French royal beauty of 16 century – our English Elizabethan period.
ANET HUNTING LODGE – MORE THAN A CHATEAU
The architect was one Philibert de l’Orme, who obviously had in mind that the chateau, at the bottom of the Valley of the Eure, was at the top of the Royal Forest of the Hunt.
ANET – ROYAL STAG HOLDS HOUNDS AT BAY – HUNTRESS SURVEYS
A magnificent stag tops the entrance arch, flanked by four baying hunting dogs. In an alcove beneath, Diana the Huntress is stretched out, lounging, surrounded by her prey.
Diana central piece
Domed building
ANET PALACE – HUDDLE OF BUILDINGS – IS ONE AN OBSERVATORY?
There were several dwellings behind the walls and the large frontal buildings. One had a very graceful dome; it looked like an observatory. There was a range of housing, and then at the far end was an enormous ‘mausoleum’; a mini-palace in itself. Clearly, the lovely Diane had been held in high esteem.
ANET PALACE IS IN DIANE’S DEER PARK – OPEN FOR ALL TO ENJOY
It was hard to tear ourselves away. We decided not to go through the wide arch that led into the grounds and the deer park beyond. Several local mums came out pushing buggies and chatting.
EXPLORING ANET?
We climbed into the car, wondering what the rest of Anet would be like. Just as we passed the chateau we had to turn a corner – and that was it! We already had left Anet behind…
ANET – CHARTRES ROAD AGAIN
By this time the temperature had climbed, so we decided to press on to our booked bed and breakfast outside Chartres.
Our first journey (down to Basilicata) was nearing its end.
Just below are my notes when planning the journey down – but in the event we did not take that route:
Our original, Pre-planned Route: SS615 to Grottole (B&B near Matera): 5hrs driving if you choose the road going through Parc de Gran Sasso (mountains & steppes! – saw a photo of them poking out of the clouds). Up ss602 was optional – or alternatively to Casteluccio (featured on TV as THE place for lentils and those special sausages. You would have to turn back after a bit). Then E80/A14 + sr6/sp230 to Grottole.
(The Parc de Sasso is 3hrs 50 minutes from Grottole – so rather too long for a day trip.)
However; there had been recent earthquakes, and we thought the populace could well do without us appearing to gawp, and generally obstructing the rescue operations.
Instead, as we recall, from L’Aquila we dropped more or less straight down to Benevento. We then passed byPotenza (not going in) and on to Grottole. By that time we were just aching to get to our base, drop off all our luggage, and rest…
But we were still well rewarded by the shorter alternative route we took: ‘Taking five’ to refresh our memories of Popoli, last visited years before. We had a nice little walk round; then on to Benevento, driving through mountains.
WE TURN OFF OUR ROAD – DESPERATE FOR FOOD!
Shortly after skirting Benevento we wondered if we’d ever hit a town in time for lunch. I studied the map and found that we’d shortly be reaching a village with the intriguing name of Castello-del-Lago. (CASTLE BY THE LAKE- though we never saw either.) Instead, we turned into a street with modern, rather characterless houses – no castle or lake in sight, but an open space with a bar. By this time I was desperate for a WC. The lady behind the bar divined this and pointed to the back (generally you have to stop to buy a kaffè or something similar).
A Walk on the Wild Side.
When I came out she ushered us both out of the door. Graham said he had asked her if there was anywhere we could have lunch – her shelf held only ciabattas and little cakes in packets – we were ready for a meal. When she picked up her phone he had not realised that she was booking a table for us at a farm-restaurant close by. We were literally guided to our meal by this kind lady, who left her customers to walk, baby on hip, in front of our car and around a zigzag of houses to a secluded courtyard – and there was this wonderful hotel/restaurant with mine host standing outside to greet us.
Antica Masseria where we had a wonderful lunch
Fish, Spaghetti – and Surreal Art.
Augusto Pisani is an artist in food (or is it his wife?) as well as his many art works which adorn the walls of his charming dining rooms in AZIENDA AGRITURISTICA ANTICA MASSERIA. Stradone Masserie, 7, 83030 Castello del Lago AV, Italy (You need to link it to Venticano, the nearest commune when looking on the internet.
We were really too early for lunch- but friendly Signor Pisani took us on a tour through several rooms to view his paintings, sculptures and very unusual collages. (If I remember rightly, there were lots of bare-breasted ladies with strange bits and pieces stuck on them.) He then discussed our order and rushed off to the kitchen, returning to take us into more rooms and a private room with his collection of ancient sculptures, amphora, and other antiquarian treasures.
STRICTLY BUSINESS LUNCHES?
The restaurant started to fill, and we couldn’t help noticing all the middle-aged businessmen entertaining their pretty young secretaries; and there was one very attractive woman who sat on her own, obviously waiting for someone, and trying hard not to show that she cared when no one showed up…
GRAHAM GET SPECIAL TREATMENT
The menu was quite fish-oriented, which delighted me, but not Graham, who asked if he could have pasta with – maybe funghi? It was not on the menu, but made especially for him with wonderful fresh porcini from the nearby mountains: But first we had a complimentary starter – fried polenta on a bed of fresh ricotta with capers, if I remember rightly. Anyway, it was absolutely delicious, as was all the food in this hidden palace of culinary delights – even the salads were special.
GOURMET FOOD AT A REASONABLE PRICE
A memorable and refreshing stop in a long day’s drive (and a surprisingly reasonable bill). We would love to return some day. We only ate there, but judging from the restaurant, I would imagine that the bedrooms are certainly satisfactory, but almost certainly comfortable and artistic. AZIENDA AGRITURISTICA ANTICA MASSERIA Stradone Masserie, 7, 83030 Castello del Lago AV, Italy
Sun-Baked Land of Basilicata.
Soon after taking our leave we found our journey taking us through a quieter countryside. The buildings gradually changed from a definite Romanesque to a distinctly Mediterranean look. The rather flat, dried fields and agricultural and factory outlets of the bottom edge of Campania suddenly gave way to a rugged landscape with the main road snaking through a deep valley. This eventually opened out to something unexpected and totally new: A very feminine, swelling land.
The soft undulating hills warmed by the setting sun
We had never before seen such subdued colours: the shades of cream, and gentle greens and browns reminded us of soldiers’ ‘desert battle fatigues’. As clouds and sun chased over the fields the colours glowed. We realised that we had at last entered Basilicata. For the next seven weeks we were going to be held under the spell of the Basilicata’s ever changing views, which one moment would be soft and feminine; and the next, quite harsh and masculine.
The road ran up – switching back and forth in sharp bends from the valley bottom to Grottole
Still marvelling on this we came abruptly upon the sign for Grottole. Our road climbed and turned round in sharp curves, and we were suddenly in this small hilltop town, where we found the central bar, and as arranged, waited to meet our host for the next seven weeks – Signor Giuseppe Riccardi!
Over drinks we toasted ‘Our First Journey at an end!’
Text by – Jackie Usher, SWWJ. (aka author Debbie Darkin, & ‘Graham Liverpool’ on Trip Advisor.) Photographs by – Graham Usher. Thanks to Google maps – All other images have been taken by Graham using an Olympus VR-370.
We had another lovely day, exploring round the coast,first glimpsed from the roadway high above. It frequently wound round the lower slopes of a mountain. Soon we were walking down (and up from) one of the famous little fishermens’ towns – Castellammare del Golfo. We even think we drove on that circular elevated highway you see in earlier Montalbano downloads. I somehow cannot call it a viaduct because it is on stilts, instead of arches.
Castellammare del Golfo
THE MOUNTAIN ROADS TO SUTERA
Sicily gave us more than a few unlooked-for adventures. Graham tackled atrocious roads, hairpin bends, and doglegs to ascend mountains. Not forgetting the usual reckless and selfish Italian driving – so surprising in this most gracious of peoples. All in our eleven-year-old VW Golf, which had so far needed only two new tyres. And maybe that was because of that farm track back in Grottole? Or possibly our car’s old age?
FIRST ATTEMPT BY MOUNTAIN ROADS TO REACH SUTERA.
11th November:
WE START A 3.5 HOUR DRIVE –
Leaving Alesso and his Mum with fond hugs and kisses, Graham decided to take the smaller roads right across the mountains to reach Sutera, where I had booked a room because it promised ‘mountain views’. I knew it would be Graham’s last chance of photographing any on the island – and he’s just crazy about mountains. Sutera is situated almost in the centre of the island and about halfway between where we had been staying and the ferry back to the mainland.
Google showed this route as taking three and a half hours as against just under two on the High Toll Road. We both like to explore off the beaten track, and Graham just loves driving through mountains. That day he had the experience – in spades!
A SLIGHT DEVIATION
We had been bowling along nicely, despite being on a very narrow road winding in and out of lower mountain slopes. Suddenly we came to a barrier across the road, announcing ‘Lavori Stradale’ (‘road works’). There were no road workers to be seen, but we saw a school bus just ahead turn in through a hole in a netted fence onto a levelled piece of rough earth. From there it drove out, executed a smart turn and took another road in the rough direction we had been travelling.
In the Parco Del Madonie
WHERE’S THE MOUNTAIN ROAD GONE?
Our SatNav quickly adapted – but about 2 miles further on Graham nearly drove straight off into – space! When we got out and peered over the edge we saw lots of rocks and a few toy cypress trees far, far below us. So we retraced our tracks and took another, slightly wider road.
MOUNTAIN ROADS – NO ROADS!
All was well until Graham, after manoeuvring around very nasty potholes, suddenly screeched to a halt. I was thrown forward slightly.
“What’s the matter? Why did you stop like that? I could have –“
“Thank God I did. Get out, and I’ll show you.”
Being tall, Graham had just managed to see that the road had dropped a good three feet, creating a step just about ten yards in front of our bonnet. He had to drive in reverse all the way until we reached the turnoff at a minute crossroads.
He sat for a while, considering, until he had to edge the car forward and nearly into the rocky wall in order to let another VW Golf pass.
“That guy’s a local, you can see. He’s obviously going somewhere and knows his road. I’m going to follow him,” he said.
“But it’s not in our direction.”
“I don’t care. I have to get back on to a proper road. Any road. We’ve been four hours already. Besides, I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”
A DEVOTED FAMILY.
Indeed, I was. So when we ended up in a medium-sized village we stopped and asked a lady meeting her child from school where we could find food. She directed us to a side road ‘Just a few yards up.’
And so it was. A very plain room, but clean, with many tables – all of them empty at that time of day. But the lady of the house came forward and in halting English explained that if we did not mind a pasta dish her husband would cook for us.
A CHILD TRIES HIS ENGLISH –
We had just started attacking the good food when in came a very fat schoolboy. He rushed to the kitchen and came out with his hands full of little cakes, which he proceeded to demolish.
Standing right in front of us he asked “Inglese?”
We agreed that we were.
“My name is Alberto Grimaldi (or some such) and I am thirteen years old,” he announced in a loud voice, whereupon his mother rushed in from the other room where she had been chatting to local friends. She smiled proudly and smoothed his hair.
– AND YEARNS AFTER OUR FOOD
Road snaking away below Sclafani Bagni
“I learn English at school.” He stared fixedly at us as if he would like to be fed scraps from our plates.
“Yes. Your English is very good,” I said politely, hoping he’d go away.
Not a bit of it. So I asked him a question he couldn’t answer – and wouldn’t you know it, in drifted his English teacher, a friend of the family.
Father came out from the kitchen and there ensued a sort of ‘Love-In’ around this child, who promptly went back to the kitchen to scoop up another snack.
WE REMEMBER OUR MANNERS
They were a lovely family – a devoted family. His father had willingly cooked us lunch at 3pm. What could we do but give Mama and Papa the pleasure of seeing their offspring show off?
ALL THE WAY BACK TO PALERMO
We finally set off again and in Sclafani Bagni we looked across to a town called Caltavuturo. It was perched just below the highest slope of the Rocca di Sciara. Graham stopped: We both left the car to look out over the land. Below us, the road wiggled away like a thin piece of string. Another signpost pointed down a wider, faster road back to Palermo and the coast. The question on both our minds was ‘do we risk the little road or go back and start again?’
There was no argument as Graham turned back to Palermo. It took well over an hour, but I enjoyed some elevated views of the lovely bays of that coast before we finally found the highway, actually a bit past where we had started from that morning…
WHAT WE MISSED:
Because we were in such a hurry to turn back we had no time to look for the famous ‘Bagni’: a perfectly round, pale green thermal pool, fed by a waterfall in the rocks that surround it. Also, to my dismay, we had to ignore the posters advertising the annual Fungo Ferla Fest. The mushrooms depicted were not the usual wonderful Porcini of Italy. These were pinky-brown, and in clusters.
If you are in the area in November, I hope you catch the festival and find all that Caltavuturo has to show you.
We left Tripotello on our fourth morning. We would be staying in Carini, a town just outside Palermo. Our country road crossed the island to the North Coast. It would lead us through a very large forest.
Golden woods of Parco Dei Nebrodi
My one regret in planning such a late holiday had been that already (on 8thNovember) I would have missed autumn in Britain. I love to see the colours each year. I had not expected to see them here, as back in mainland Italy there was hardly a sign of yellowing in the trees. To my delight, as we entered the forest we found the whole area was gleaming with brightly golden autumn leaves. If anything, they grew even brighter as our road climbed and then started to descend, a mountain. After two hours or so I begged Graham to stop where we might take a walk. Presently he was able to park the car by a grassy glade.
Our Golf parked by the grassy glade
Cattle of the Parco Dei Nebrodi
JOURNEY TO CARINI – AN ABRUPT END TO AN IDYLL
No sooner were we out of the car and enjoying the birdsong and the feel of soft grass through our sandal-sides than a tinkling of bells grew rapidly louder, and we could hear conversation. A large group of men and animals were obviously coming down from the mountain.
To our great consternation a largish herd of bulls appeared out of the trees. They proceeded to cross the road not very far in front of us – about twenty yards. We could see many coming up behind. So I had to forfeit my walk; but Graham took great pleasure in filming the handsome beasts with their long horns. I admit that I stood well behind him! We debated whether to post the video as it was of such poor quality, but the sounds that it captured were so evocative of the region. Several times we stopped the car in the forest. Though we only saw the cattle roundup once, we heard it several times.
Parco dei Nebrodi, Sicily.
Cattle of the Parco Dei Nebrodi
CEFALU
Duomo at Cefalù
As there was time for some sightseeing, we took the coast road to Cefalu. Itwas high time, we decided, to visit the sea again. After all, we were staying on an island!
We are not lovers of beach resorts. Rather, ‘culture vultures’, I suppose, seeking out historical buildings and art. Unlike many, though, we love to get off the beaten track. Our chief joy is diving down any little country lane that looks inviting – seeing where it leads. Though not infallible, we have discovered many a hidden gem this way.
Nobody can blame the Italians for ‘prettifying’ their fishing villages, and filling them with souvenir shops. Nevertheless, it was a joy to discover that Cefalu offered much more. It had evidence of an important past.
Its impressively grand cathedral, we learned, was built by one of Sicily’s Norman rulers; Roger the Second. As well as its twin towers, it had some intriguing and delicate arches along its front.
Deciding we did not have time enough to justify paying a rather steep entry fee, we settled for sitting just outside, sipping Peronis. Feeling cooler, we started exploring the town. Buildings gave witness to its history. We saw Byzantine and Spanish influences, as well as Norman and Arab; then rather fine Italian styles.
We made our way down to where we overlooked the rocky harbour. This still retained the look of an honest fishing village. We soaked in the view along the coast before getting back in the car.
Cefalù
Days 4 & 5:
CARINI – TROUBLE FINDING OUR B&B – ‘THE GREEN HOUSE’
Our next B&B was in The Green House, in Carini – run by Alesso and his mother. We had terrible trouble finding it. Miss Satnav would insist on sending us down an empty back-alley right beside the elevated motorway we had come in on.
This was not the first time that Airbnb had given insufficient directions. We tried telephoning the number on our sheet, but with no success.
Finally we retraced our steps and found a café nearby. After a refreshing coffee, the owner tried phoning for us, and obtained more detailed directions.
Our B&B was in the road behind the alley, and had to be approached from a different direction entirely!
CARINI B&B – HELPFUL HOSTS
As we turned into a very private small road, our host came out to direct us to a parking place, and then, with his mother, helped Graham carry in our luggage.
We found ourselves in a very nice private house – the inside reminding us vaguely of ‘haciendas’ seen in Hollywood films.
We had a large bedroom, although the wardrobe was at that time filled with someone’s clothes (this may have been unavoidable). We had to share the bathroom, but that proved no problem.
CARINI B&B – CAKES FOR BREAKFAST
Mamma (Janice?) went to great lengths to produce nice breakfasts, cooking many cakes (which is about the only time Italians eat cakes – and little else!) It was very reasonably priced. We felt very welcome in their private home, and we stayed two nights.
Adresse Chambres d’hôtes Green House : Via Medusa 3 – 90044 CARINI
(We booked this place through Air B&B – but as so often with them, we had vexing complications regarding payment (through exchange rates, I think). We will not use them again – at least for staying abroad. They are never as cheap as the first advertised price anyway.) To be fair, many friends back in England have been pleased with bookings in our own country.
