Villalago 0

Villalago

Villalago is the sort of place where your destination always seems to be at the top of another flight of steps. It requires energy, and it doesn’t help that I’ve clearly approached the town from the wrong end. I find myself in a residential area where the modern houses have an inscrutable, do-not-disturb look on this summer Sunday afternoon. Still, even now, even here in this quiet town in the hills of Abruzzo, getting ambushed by decibels is not out of the question. Hurtling down the empty street is a vehicle, windows open, music blaring, passengers yelling. I glimpse the occupants as the car roars past: just some teenagers...

Rocca Calascio

Rocca Calascio

Beside a turn in the zig-zag road to Rocca Calascio, some thoughtful person has organized the ideal picnic spot. Under a bower of ivy and spring flowers is a table and benches, just waiting to be used. Only we don’t have a picnic. Déjeuner sur L’herbe Never mind, in the borgo of Calascio we find a bar where the owner does a line in sardonic wit (free) and sandwiches (reasonably priced).  We take our sandwiches out to a grassy promontory. Though the sun is shining, the breeze from the Gran Sasso carries a memory of snow. We are at 1400 metres above sea level and the world is at our...

view of Capestrano 1

Capestrano

In the summer of 1934, a certain farmer named Michele was digging trenches in his fields when his plough hit something solid. More digging revealed a limestone sculpture, later ascertained to be from the sixth-fifth century BC. It is the oldest sculpted figure in Italy, the Guerriero di Capestrano. The warrior has been identified as Nevio Pompuledio. But more interesting to me is what the sculpture reveals about the craftsmanship of a people – the Piceni – who lived in an era almost too distant and too different to imagine, in a landscape which instead has perhaps altered little. Back to the present When we arrive in Capestrano on...

portion of Guerriero di Capestrano

Chieti – Museo Archeologico Nazionale

The Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Abruzzo is housed in the 1830s neoclassical Villa Frigeri in Chieti, atop a small hill. Were I not so impatient to see a certain exhibit, I would linger in the gardens, cool off by the fountains, sigh over the views. Later, I tell myself. The museum is a gem Inside, the spaces are airy and uncluttered, the staff courteous and informed. They hover nearby, ready to answer questions. All the exhibits are meticulously labelled and explained in Italian, with a (mostly) good English translation. The Guerriero di Capestrano, the main object of our visit, is on the ground floor of the Museum but it...

Pescara river at night 3

Pescara, the city

In Pursuit of Happiness The statue of Ennio Flaiano guards the entrance to the oldest part of the city of Pescara where he was born. Poet, author, playwright, collaborator of Federico Fellini, and the first winner of the prestigious Strega literary award, Flaiano was fond of aphorisms. One of his favourites is written on the plinth of the statue: la felicità consiste nel non desiderare che ciò che si possiede.  Happiness consists in desiring only what you possess. A wise maxim, you might think, but one which Flaiano himself failed to honour, since he wasted little time in abandoning his native city and all he possessed, and decamping to...

Boat carrying statue of Sant'Andrea passing under the Ponte del Mare, Pescara 0

Festa di Sant’Andrea

Years ago, on my return from the beach one sweltering July day, I told my mother-in-law what I’d seen – just off the coast, a procession of fishing boats, festooned with gaily fluttering banners. (I swear I’d also heard fireworks. Fireworks? In broad daylight?) Ah yes, she said, without turning around from the pasta pot. Today’s the Festa di Sant’Andrea. Now, being Scottish, I know perfectly well that St. Andrew’s feast day is on 30 November and not in July. But I said nothing. This was my mother-in-law. And anyway, what difference does it make if St. Andrew’s Day is celebrated in Scotland on 30 November with ceilidhs and haggis,...

Ninfa fountain and Pescara riviera 2

Pescara – the Riviera

Where to begin, if not at the sea. For what would Pescara be without the sea, without its lungomare and luxurious lidos, its pier and pescatori?  What would it be without its marina and mega yachts?  A fitting name The city’s name (but for one letter, the same as the verb meaning to fish) evokes the sea. It was around the year 1000 that Aternum, as the Romans called it, became Piscaria, like the river on whose banks it stood. In 1927 the town was joined with Castellammare Adriatico on the river’s northern shore. Efforts to revert to the Roman name were thwarted by Pescara’s most famous son, Gabriele...

women's hands stirring pots of Le Virtù 1

Le Virtù – the recipe

Gabriella shares with me her recipe for Le Virtù Teramane. It is neatly handwritten but I think I spot a mistake. It says the recipe serves 50. I’m assured it’s correct. Fifty, it seems, is a normal May Day lunch gathering around these parts. Several women take part in the preparation of a meal that will satisfy several families and a multitude of friends and hangers-on. Gabriella suggests I get in touch before making Le Virtù so she can give me some extra tips. I don’t tell her that the chances of me ever producing Le Virtù for 50 people are just marginally stronger than me winning the Eurovision...

legumes, ham and vegetables 0

Le Virtù

Back when spring cleaning was a thing, the women of Teramo would make a meal of it. At the end of April, they would clean out the pantry of all leftover vegetables and pulses and freshen up drawers and shelves in readiness for the summer fruits.  The wilting winter greens and various fresh and dried pulses – beans, chick peas, lentils – would then be combined, together with a ham bone or two and the new spring herbs foraged from the fields, in a hearty, flavoursome minestrone and served for lunch on May Day.    Origins Exhausting though spring cleaning may be, it can leave you feeling virtuous, which...

Scanno with snow 0

Scanno

We weren’t intending to stop for refreshments but as soon as we arrive in Scanno we spot a tree-shaded terrace and tables spread with pretty cotton cloths.  Irresistible. We take our seats. The cake Out comes the waitress to take our order. Seeing me dither, she suggests I try the local speciality, Pan dell’Orso. Bear bread.  Given the name, I could be forgiven for expecting something more substantial than the small domed bun which, disappointingly, arrives wrapped in cellophane. The wrapper describes it as a light fluffy cake of almonds and honey covered in the finest chocolate.  This is confirmed in a couple of bites. And then it’s gone. Transumanza I...