Invitation to Italy 6 of 7
recorded a description of the scene that has become classic. Later a Roman Senator, Pliny the Younger wrote ten books that provide an informal account of the daily life of a rich and cultured Roman gentleman.
After the volcanic and earthquake activity subsided, the survivors at Pompeii excavated the loose ash and recaptured their valuables and as much marble as they could reclaim. It was not worth their efforts to excavate where the molten lava had encapsulated portions of Pompeii, so the remainder of the city was consigned to oblivion for fifteen hundred years.
Late in the 1500s, during work on an underground water line, the architect Domenico Fontana rediscovered the ruins of Pompeii. About 150 years later excavation began in earnest, and even now a portion of the original city remains uncovered. The layer of cinder and ash that covered Pompeii, to the south of Vesuvius, was easier to excavate than the solidified tufa that covered Herculaneum, on the west side of the volcano.
Pompeii was surrounded by a two mile wall with 11 towers and 7 gates. The forum, in the center of town, is where religious ceremonies were held, trade was carried out, and was a place for public speakers. In the southern part of the city they unearthed the so-called Triangular Forum, with a temple, a wrestling school, open-air theater, a concert hall, and a gladiators’ barracks. Corner restaurants (their version of McDonald’s), laundries, a basilica, brothels, and several temples have also been uncovered.
The Teatro Grande (that could accommodate 5,000 onlookers), is next door to the similar but smaller Odeum theater. Pompeii’s Anfiteatro, the oldest known Roman amphitheater, was built about 80 BC to hold 20,000 spectators.
It’s interesting to note that Pompeii’s amphitheater, and the two theaters, are perhaps the most complete structures of their type to have survived the ages. Since they were buried below the ash of Vesuvius, they did not suffer the destructive power of wind and rain, and stones could not be quarried and stolen for other building projects, as happened elsewhere.
At some places the streets are 8 or 10 inches below the sidewalks. Triads of large stepping stones, spaced across the street from side to side, permitted pedestrians to cross without getting their feet wet. The streets were paved with heavy stones, and the space between the three stepping stones show ruts that were worn into the stone by wheels of passing carts.
Two thousand inhabitants of Pompeii perished under the layer of ash and volcanic debris. As the lava was being excavated, hollow places were found where a body had been encapsulated, and has since decomposed and completely disappeared. They have poured plaster into some of those cavities, then removed the surrounding ash and debris. Resulting plaster statues of people in the throes of death, and of a dying dog, are on display.
The best known house, The House of the Faun, is named for the statue of a dancing faun, and there’s a wall-mosaic depicting the battle between Alexander the Great and the Persian King Darius. The home of the Vettii brothers was about the most lavishly decorated in the town, with a series of rooms with art on the walls, surrounding an atrium. Lead pipes in the atrium were still available to carry water for the fountains, just as soon as the excavation was complete.
The Villa of the Mysteries got its name from the superb paintings that decorate a large rectangular hall. The scenes may depict a premarital initiation rite, and are considered the finest Roman paintings to have survived.
Much of the art has been taken from Pompeii and is on display in the Museum in Naples. As stated earlier, they just cut the wall, and took a portion of the wall complete with art, to the museum. Books are available which feature Pompeii’s art, and other books display the pornography that covered the walls in several homes. We remember that in 1970, for a small price the guide would unlock a door and display some of that art. Twenty years later that door was no longer in place, the art was on public view. Your imagination can complete the picture — the color painting is of a naked man holding a balance scale with a large gold bar on one side, and the only caption possible is, “Worth its weight in gold.”
Three different years we have walked the streets of Pompeii, enjoying the feeling that we could really see what the town had been like. We can walk for hours, stopping to see architecture that we can’t imagine could exist that long ago.
POMPEII CAMPSITE
The campsite is a short walking distance from both the modern and the ancient city of Pompeii. During one of our stays, our next door neighbor was a family from Sweden, who had been our neighbor a week or so earlier at a campsite in Rome. They were driving a large US made RV, on a 1977 Dodge truck. The man had owned a restaurant in Stockholm, but had sold it and bought this RV so his family could travel for a year or so. He said that he bargains with everyone, for almost everything they need to buy, and is often successful in getting a lower price. The RV was expensive to operate, and used a lot of costly gasoline, but in those years European manufacturers had not yet gotten into the RV business. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, sometimes there were people waiting to see what the inside of our Dodge Camper Van looked like. These days however, RVs are everywhere in Europe.
In the daytime part of the campsite is used as a parking lot for visitors to ancient Pompeii, but in the evening we noticed a line of cars patiently waiting to park. The next morning the Swedish man pointed out that the campsite has a few rooms for rent, and a housing shortage in Italy resulted in most young people living at their parent’s home, rather than in their own apartments. The well-dressed young people in nice cars were waiting an hour or so to rent a room in the Pompeii campground for an hour or so, or maybe after such a long wait, just a few minutes or so. How romantic!
Chapter 22
SORRENTO, CAPRI,
AMALFI COAST
%SORRENTO
The city streets between Pompeii and Sorrento had deep potholes by the dozens, so close together we couldn’t miss all of them. Since they were filled to the top with water from the heavy rain, we couldn’t tell how deep they were until this wheel and that disappeared into one pothole after another.
The 1970 American Express tour bus that took us to Pompeii, included some people who were going to visit the Isle of Capri, so we did get to see a little of this beautiful and fascinating part of Italy. The drive to Sorrento, along the road perched on the cliff above the Sea, was as breathtaking and scenic as we remember anywhere. Much of Sorrento is located high above the Golfo di Napoli, and sometimes the narrow beach at the bottom of the cliff is crammed full of colorful umbrellas and little canvas changing booths, and as usual in Italy, lined up as if by a surveyor or a drill sergeant.
However, one of the problems with multiple tours sharing the same bus, is that when we came back to pick up the Capri tour group, we had to wait and wait. Since the streets were so narrow and there was no proper place for the bus to park, we weren’t allowed to leave the immediate area. We wanted to walk a block or so in either direction, but the tour guide said no.
On our next visit to Sorrento we enjoyed strolling through the city. We were on our own, there was no tour guide to say no. But first we looked and looked for a parking place, then found ourselves driving high up the hill overlooking the coastline and the town, before we found a place where we could turn around. The drive was on a narrow, twisty road lined with lemon trees and olive groves. Under many of the olive trees, they have orange or black nets, positioned to catch the olives as they fall. On top of the lemon trees, black nets kept birds from eating the fruit, or protected the trees and fruit from the cold, depending on which reference you prefer — most likely it’s both. At several places there were grapevines between the trees, making maximum use of the land.
When we stopped at a bank to get some Italian Lire we found a young man who was the most efficient, and the hardest working banker we have seen. Other employees were just sitting or standing around, while he was here, there, and everywhere, from counter to phone to desk to computer, doing everything. Other people, who looked much more “bankerish” than he did, asked him questions and waited patiently for his answer, but he was doing most of the work.
While street traffic is generally hectic most places in Italy, in Sorrento this day, a large dog lay in the sun at the edge of a traffic lane on a main street. No one cared, they just waited until they could safely drive around the snoozing pooch. We got the impression the local drivers were well acquainted with that hound.
%THE ISLE OF CAPRI
Capri was named Capreae (goat island) in ancient times, and later was the home of the Emperors Augustus and Tiberius. The latter lived here ten years, and built twelve villas.
During one visit to Sorrento we left the RV in the campsite and paid the campsite owner to drive us to the docks, for the boat ride to the Isle of Capri. In 1980 the cost was $7.50 round trip to the large harbor, Marina Grande, Porto Turistico. On the other side of the island, the small harbor is called Marina Piccolo.
At Capri’s Marina Grande we got a noisy reception from hucksters and guides, then we rode the Funicolare (funicular) to the town of Capri above. And a lovely town it is. The village square is like a diminutive opera setting; incomparable beauty, exceptional climate, superb facilities. Capri’s coast line is irregular, mostly cliffs, inaccessible at most spots, honeycombed with grottoes, covered with subtropical vegetation, with a myriad of small white houses scattered throughout the hillside.
After walking around the town for a couple of hours we boarded the small, narrow city bus for the ride to the town of Anacapri, then rode the single-chair lift for the twelve minute ride to the top of Mt. Solaro. The ride was exceptionally beautiful as we passed in deep silence over flower gardens, vineyards, and homes on the terraced hillside above Anacapri. And, oh the intoxicating aroma of orange blossoms was magnificent. What a glorious afternoon.
When we returned to Capri Emmy went shopping and found a dress she wanted to buy, and a shopkeeper who was more than eager to wait on her. When Emmy indicated she wanted to buy the dress and quoted a price, he indicated agreement, then quickly kissed her on the neck and said “Bella, Bella.” But when Emmy indicated a lack of interest in what he was really trying to sell, he showed a lack of interest in selling the dress for that price, so no buy, and no sale either.
We wish someone would duplicate one small business we saw at Capri, but don’t remember elsewhere in Europe. At streetside stands, cold, fresh-squeezed orange juice provided the pause that really refreshes.
Just walking and enjoying the town was so much fun we didn’t attempt a boat ride to the Blue Grotto. The Blue Grotto is the largest (about 175 feet long, 100 feet wide, and 120 feet high) and most famous of the many sea caves that exist around the island. When the small boat enters the cave, the light is refracted through the water giving it a beautiful blue color, and submerged objects take on a fine silvery hue. On days when waves or a high surf exist, boats cannot enter the rather low entrance of the Blue Grotto, and tours are canceled.
In addition to the Blue Grotto, there is the Green Grotto; the Grotto of the cannon (named for the booming noise made by the sea); the Red Grotto whose walls are blood-red with efflorescence; and The Grotto of the Sea Bull (a species of seal).
A good friend of ours, the late Eleanor M. Clinton lived to the age of 101. In 1931 she toured Europe, and wrote her travel journal in verse. It’s an amazing document, we enjoyed reading of her visit to the Isle of Capri.
The Isle of Capri
Dear Me
The luring tour prospectus wrote,
“From Naples comes a trip by boat,
Sorrento and the Grotto Blue”
How little, Ah, alas, we knew,
Dear me!
Down to the blue Tyrrhenian Sea,
We came, all unsuspectingly.
Nor one among us paused to note,
How billows broke against the coast.
Dear me!
We soon began to pitch and toss,
Our breakfast was a total loss.
Five minutes after we set sail,
Three girls were leaning o'er the rail.
Dear me!
Some groaned in agony,
A few assumed a sickly saffron hue.
But one, unfeeling, hard of heart
Stood unperturbed and laughed apart.
Dear me!
For me, I merely wished to lie,
Pale face upturned to azure sky.
And slowly sink beneath the wave,
That constituted Shelley's grave.
Dear me!
Some at Sorrento wisely left,
Then of these timid souls bereft,
We journeyed on to Capri's Isle,
Feeling sadder all the while.
Dear me!
Hark to what the boat men say,
That throng the waters of the bay,
“No grotto trip. Each second wave
Closes the entrance of the cave.”
Dear me!
I cried, “I want a bed! A bed!
About my lunch let naught be said,
Or if I drink, pray let it be
A death-draught acting speedily.”
Dear me!
When at Sorrento we at last,
Met those who left us hours past,
They told us all about the sport,
We might have had at this resort.
Dear me!
If you would sail to Capri's hill,
Just choose a day when all is still.
The sea as peaceful as the skies.,
Choose such a day, or otherwise —
Dear me!
THE AMALFI COAST
Of all the roads we’ve driven, we would not recommend the road along the Amalfi Coast for beginners. Not just because the extremely narrow twisty, sometimes water level, sometimes cliff hanging road might be difficult to drive, but the unbelievably gorgeous scenery makes it almost impossible for the driver to keep his mind and eyes on the job at hand. We do recommend that the drive east be done in the afternoon, the drive west in the morning. We’ve done both, and it’s important to keep the sun at the driver’s back, so the glare doesn’t distract from the view of the scenery, the road, and the traffic.
The extraordinary serpentine Amalfi Drive was carved in the precipitous hillside in 1852. Much of the drive along the Amalfi Coast is slow and curvy, with big problems when we meet large vehicles. Imagine the problems when two oversized vehicles meet and try to pass each other on this very confining, crowded road. Emmy’s gray-hairs aren’t only from being out of touch with her hairdresser for too many weeks.
We have traveled many places in Europe, in the US and Canada, and we don’t remember a drive anywhere that even approximated the glorious natural scenery with man-made additions of homes, monasteries, hotels and other buildings terraced up the hillside, enhancing the exceptional beauty of the Amalfi Coast.
%POSITANO
Positano, a fishermen’s village founded by the Phoenicians, is situated on cliffs that are covered by vegetation. The scenery is fabulous. It just doesn’t seem possible to build the homes, hotels, and other buildings on such a steep hillside, with terraced gardens that fill the space between. Buildings start at the sea, then each higher building seems to rise from the roof of the one below. If we count its many terraces, interspersed with citrus groves and rows of houses, Positano appears to be a twenty-five to thirty story village.
In 79 AD, when the Vesuvius eruption covered Pompeii, the wind carried cinder and ash across the hills, depositing a heavy layer on towns along the Amalfi Coast, nearly destroying Positano and other towns nearby.
%RAVELLO
Pretty magenta flowers were growing in rocky crevices as we drove up to the town of Ravello. The drive was incredible — twisting, turning, and having to stop and go back and forth when we met buses going the opposite direction. Our one-hundred year old Baedeker’s-Italy guide book says the trip to Ravello takes one and a half to two hours in a small two-horse carriage. In many ways, that might be preferable to today’s trip by either bus or RV.
The panoramic road climbs in hairpin bends up the narrow valley that is terraced and planted with vines, fruit and olive trees. Here again, as we saw earlier, the olive trees had nets underneath to catch the olives, the lemon trees had nets on top to protect the fruit from the birds, or from the cold.
The alleys, stairways, and roofed passages of Ravello cling to the steep slope. The town, suspended above the sea, is unforgettable, and there’s a bird’s-eye view of the coast, the sea, white walls and pink tile roofs of monasteries, chapels and dwelling houses, scattered over the slopes below the town square.
%AMALFI
This is a rather Spanish-looking little town of tall white houses built on rocks facing a blue bay. It’s flanked by an old Scaracen tower (from the time of the crusades) and a Capuchin monastery (an independent order of Franciscans), now a hotel.
Sant’ Andrea (St. Andrew’s) Cathedral dating from the 1000s, stands at the top of a splendid stairway. The bronze door that bears a Latin inscription in silver letters, was sent to Amalfi from Constantinople in 1066.
%SALERNO
This is yet another of the many cities we have passed through a couple of times, and have only taken time to see the very small portion we drove through. On September 9, 1943 the Allied Armies landed near Salerno and fought fierce battles with German occupation forces. After three weeks of bitter fighting, Naples was freed, and the Allies had a firm footing in Italy. The old part of Salerno lies on a hill overlooking the gulf, and after the destruction suffered during WW II, the modern city has been rebuilt from the sea to the hill.
Salerno was founded in about 200 BC, and as has happened to most cities in this part of the world, it was ruled by several different governments. The first medical school in Europe was founded in the 1000s at the University of Salerno. Another reference says the first medical school in Europe was founded in 1289 at Montpellier in France. That disagreement between references, and a thousand more, shouldn’t spoil anyone’s vacation.
MOZZARELLA ‘D BUFFALO
The first herd of water buffalo we saw was near the coast, north of Pozzuoli, and we have seen several herds since. At the campsite named “Mozzarella ‘d Buffalo,” just south of Salerno, right on the shore, we discovered that Mozzarella cheese is made from milk from the herds of buffalo we have seen the last day or two. At the little grocery store associated with the campsite, Emmy ordered some Mozzarella cheese and was surprised to find that rather than a chunk of solid cheese, she was given a small ice-cream scoop-sized white lump of soft cheese that they put in water in a plastic bag. That’s what they call Fresh Mozzarella, and in this case, it really was fresh, just across the road from the supply of buffalo milk.
Our camping spot was so close to the water that when we went to bed we could hear the waves of the Tyrrhenian Sea quietly lapping the shore. With a light April shower besprinkling the tin roof of the RV, this was the epitome of a romantic Italian vacation spot. As an added bonus, the next morning the nearby hills were frosted with a fresh mantle of snow.
Chapter 23
PAESTUM,
AND TO THE “TOE” OF ITALY
FISHING AND FARMING
As we headed toward Paestum on the coast-side road, we crossed several bridges over little streams flowing into the Sea. On both sides of the road there were several huge square nets (perhaps 20 or 30 feet square) held above the water with ropes tied high in the trees alongside the river. Perhaps the nets would be lowered into the water (maybe at night) to catch whatever they intended to catch. We have seen these nets at other places, but never learned what they expected to catch. Each time we saw an apparatus like this it was daylight, the net was well above the water, and no one was around. We also saw this contraption in (former) Yugoslavia, near the Albanian border.
This appears to be a family farming area, and we have passed miles and miles of plastic covered growing sheds. We did see strawberries in one place, but couldn’t see in the other hundreds of buildings. Artichokes are being harvested, some with just the head, and others with a long stalk with many leaves still attached.
%PAESTUM
The old town of Paestum is really a great place. Built in 600 BC, it became part of the Roman Empire in 243 BC, and it’s still in excellent condition, as the condition of ruins go. Portions of three Greek temples still stand and are in better fettle than some of the buildings we have seen that are 2,500 years newer. Included are the Basilica, the Tempio di Nettuno (Temple of Neptune), and Tempio di Cerere (Temple of Ceres). The temple ruins stand among aromatic herbs, cypress, oleander, ferns, and acanthus, enlivened by grasshoppers, lizards, and little snakes.
The Basilica is 179 by 80 feet, and believed to be older than the temple of Neptune. The fifty columns taper from five feet in diameter at the bottom, to three feet at the top.
The Temple of Neptune is an example of architecture dating from 600 BC, measuring about 200 feet by 80 feet, with thirty-six well-preserved columns 28 feet high, and about seven feet in diameter at the base, and nearly five feet in diameter at the top. The columns are made from porous limestone, mellowed in color by age, in which fossil reeds and aquatic plants are visible.
The smallest of the three, the Temple of Ceres, is 106 by 46 feet, with about 34 columns that taper from four feet in diameter at the bottom to three feet at the top. (The word cereal is derived from Ceres, the Roman mythologist goddess of grain.)
We talked to a retired archaeologist and his wife (the editor of an archaeology journal) from England, who said the Greek ruins in Paestum and in Agrigento, Sicily, are about the best we will see anywhere, including Greece. We had seen the other “best ones” in Agrigento a few years earlier, and we have also visited other remnants of ancient architecture, in Turkey, in Greece, and on the Greek Islands. We do agree the ruins at Paestum are impressive.
The Greek ruins in Italy; the Roman ruins in Arles, Nimes, and Avignon, France; in Trier, Germany; the city of Bath and Hadrian’s Wall in England, are all exceptional. Tourists have no need to journey south of the Alps and visit Rome to admire the treasures of the Roman Empire, or travel to Greece to delight in the marvels of ancient Greece. But given that opportunity, please do.
There were several bus loads of school children in attendance, and while we waited for the sun to come out from behind a cloud so we could take better photographs (what a difference it makes), Jim talked to an animated group of school children from Naples. The teacher and several children could speak enough English for us to communicate. We enjoyed our conversation, but carefully neglected asking about conditions in their city — but later we wished we had asked.
The children were interesting to talk to and laughed when Jim lamented that while they have such beautiful places as Paestum to visit, California school children can only visit Disneyland. We got the impression they would like to visit Disneyland, and forget the Greek Temples at Paestum. We assured them there was nothing to see in the United States that was even approximately as interesting as what we are seeing in Italy, day after day.
As stated earlier we often see groups of school children touring towns, ruins and buildings, all over Italy. We are sure it wasn’t the idea of a teacher here and there, for such a major undertaking it must be an important part of their school curriculum, as well it should be.
For our 37th anniversary we dined at the Athens Marriott Hotel, with the Parthenon visible from our table. Our waiter said that as a school child he was bused to the Acropolis, the one and only time he’s been there. Now that’s too bad.
SOUTH ALONG THE COAST
We drove on the main highway for a while, then headed through mountains and forests on the twisty “little” roads, to the coast. One after the other we passed more of those thousands of Italian hillside towns. A few miles south of Lagonegro, we passed below the exceptionally fascinating little village of Rivello. It’s a shame that we just “passed,” we would have liked to visit, but found no reasonable way to get there.
As we drove on the “tiny” roads and neared the coastline, there were houses and villages scattered throughout. This appears to be a vacation area with miles of modern pink or blue houses and apartments near the sea, what looks like summer homes for vacationing Italians. Most buildings appear rather new, and all are neat and clean. We parked along the shore, walked, read, and rested for an hour or so, then went slowly on our way, enjoying this attractive scene.
There are train tracks between the road and the sea, and it looks like the transportation mode for summer visitors. We stopped at a supermarket and found it wouldn’t open again until 3:30. We are continually ambivalent about these daily closing hours — stores seem to close just when we’re ready to buy something.
Several fields near the sea were crowded with concrete blocks, maybe six feet by six feet by four feet, or even larger. Because of the language problem we couldn’t ask, but it appears they are supposed to protect the shore from being worn away during a storm. We have seen some of the cement blocks sitting at the waterline, but wonder why so many sit in fields nearby. Perhaps when a storm is forecast, these concrete blocks are moved to the shore to protect it from erosion, but that’s just a guess.
At one place there was a long narrow park, built between the road and the railroad tracks. Trees, paths, flowers, lights, parking, etc., everything was neat and well done.
It was a very pleasant drive right along the coast. Every few miles there was another little village, beautiful beach areas, and inviting spots to park and stroll. At all times the mountain views on the inland side of the road were interesting, and there were usually hillside and hilltop villages to decorate the vista.
%CAMPORA S. GIOVANNI
We were the first people in Campora S Giovanni’s campsite, the night we spent there. The campsite was located behind a huge gasoline station, and next to a very pleasant building that housed a motel and restaurant, neither of which were yet open for the summer season.
As we prepared our dinner three women arrived at a nearby trailer, cleaned up the patio and started to prepare dinner. A little later three men arrived, shook hands and introduced themselves to the ladies. Dinner was served on the patio and a quiet party was underway. By early the next morning the trailer was closed tight, the cars were long gone, and there was no sign of the party participants.
%TROPEA
The road continued near the water most of the time, but part of the time on the edge of the nearby mountain. Near Tropea, on the seaside road, the hillsides were covered with red poppies, purple thistles and a tall yellow dandelion type flower. Usually they were growing wild in the open fields, but sometimes it appeared they were planted in rows as a crop.
The drive on these tiny roads along the coast near Tropea was slow and tiresome, so we headed inland and drove up, up, up the mountainside, headed for the Autostrada again, on our way to catch a ferry to Sicily. As we climbed the mountain, to the west we could see the smoking volcanic island of Stromboli, the island many Americans have heard of only because of the “adventures” of Ingrid Bergman. Come to think of it, that should read, “… many older Americans.”
On top of the hill, in a tiny town (too small to be on our map), we found a diminutive church undergoing restoration. The pews were stacked outside the church, so we stopped and watched the artists at work. As we understood it, an Italian man born near here moved to the US, made his fortune, then returned and commissioned the renovation project. One artist was doing a beautiful job of restoring the wall murals, others were cleaning statues and other works of art, two or three craftsmen were renovating the furniture. We were welcomed and escorted around the church, and we got the impression they were hoping for a large donation from the visiting Americans. Little did they know… … !
%MILETO
Some of the women near Mileto were dressed in the costume of the area, and looked very countryfied. Many were wearing black shawls and babushkas, and one woman was walking alongside the road balancing a large bundle on her head. Anything from a water-jug to an immense bundle of hay goes on the head. One writer remembered a “ … fine looking young woman walking down a mountain path in her bare feet, carrying nothing but her shoes on her head.”
In Mileto, and throughout southern Italy, we often see a thick “trunk” of a grapevine growing two or three stories up the side of a house. An arbor then supports the vines over the balcony or a rooftop dining/patio area, providing, in turn as the seasons progress, shade, grapes, and wine for the dining table.
It makes no difference how remote the area or how narrow the road, an almost constant traffic hazard is the redi-mix cement trucks traveling from the cement plant to a construction project of some kind.
We must do our grocery shopping this morning since all food stores close Wednesday afternoon, all over Italy. Isn’t it amazing, the Italians can be so disorganized on some things, but they always get holidays and store closings exactly right, every time.
%ROSARNO
Near Rosarno eleven huge trucks filled with oranges, were parked alongside the road, near miles of citrus groves. The first market we visited was out of fresh milk, and had only one funny shaped loaf of bread on the shelf. At the next grocery store we found both bread and milk, and as we paid our bill the cashier removed a discount sticker from a jar of spaghetti sauce, and took about 37 cents off our bill. Many places in Europe sell sterilized milk, milk that doesn’t need refrigeration. In our opinion, it doesn’t taste good enough to be used at all, but the long shelf-life without refrigeration makes it a useful product in remote towns and villages. The taste is awful, and even with a lot of cocoa or Ovaltine mixed in — forget it.
In many of the old towns and cities the streets are so crowded it’s difficult to drive, and almost impossible to find a place to park. Many gasoline stations, located at the curb on the narrow streets, have just a pump or two at the sidewalk, with very long hoses that can reach to the “other side” of a car or a large truck. These days we find more and more huge modern, clean stations with a dozen pumps, and plenty of space for customer parking. When we traveled through former East Germany, Poland, and the Czech Republic a couple of years after the Berlin Wall came down, similar large gasoline stations were among the first businesses being built in cities and small towns alike.
NEAR THE TOE
As we continued toward Sicily we passed vineyards with vines that are trimmed low to the ground. The main trunk is many inches thick, obviously many years old, but only about a foot high. While in northern Italy we saw vineyards with miles of ten-foot-high arbors, in this area no stakes or arbors of any kind are in place to hold the vine that will certainly grow later in the season. As we mentioned earlier, vineyards appear unique to a particular part of a country, or perhaps they are unique to the variety of grape.
Also, in this part of Italy no nets are positioned under the olive trees nor over the citrus trees, as we found one and two hundred miles north of here. We wonder, is it just tradition in some areas, is there something different about the fruit, are the pests a distinct species, is it warmer here, or are the farmers in this area poorer or smarter than those further north?
As we approached the “toe” of Italy we could see snow-capped, slightly smoking Mt. Etna, across the Straits of Messina, on the east coast of Sicily. As the Autostrada went through several tunnels, two or three were thick with smog and smoke from the almost continuous line of vehicles, with a few automobiles sprinkled among the caravan of huge trucks. One tunnel was so filled with smoke it was especially difficult, both to see and to breath. Can’t imagine the problem, except the tunnel exhaust fans must be out of order. We have driven through a thousand tunnels in all parts of Italy, and this is the first and only time we encountered a ventilation problem.
We arrived in Villa San Giovanni, located right on the tip of the nail of Italy’s big toe, about two miles before Reggio di Calabria. We drove directly to the docks and selected a ferryboat terminal from the several there, and bought our round-trip ferryboat ticket to Sicily. There was no way to know which is best, and for the short ride to Sicily, most likely it didn’t matter.
The ship’s loading ramp curved round and round, and when we got to the top we found the main parking area on the ship was 1.9 meters high, and the RV is 2.65 meters high. We were thankful there was space for a couple of vehicles on the open deck, enough room for us and a large, chauffeur-driven Italian Army van, with a high-ranking military officer as the only passenger.
Southern Italy appears to be generally poorer than the north, and that is somewhat illustrated by the fact the Autostrada south of Naples is primarily toll-free (not all the time), and the best we remember tolls are charged everywhere north of Naples. We usually don’t travel far on the Autostrada, but sometimes it’s a help on those days when we have had all we can stand of narrow, twisty, rough roads, or if for some reason we want to get somewhere a little quicker.
As mentioned earlier, in 1980 we took a ferry from Livorno to the Island of Corsica, then to Sardinia, on to Sicily, then to the “toe” of Italy. By that time we were tired and for no known reason were in a hurry to get to Rome, so we mistakenly decided to drive the Autostrada from Reggio di Calabria directly to Salerno. What a travel mistake (we should have spent more time in southern Italy), but what a delightful drive. The Autostrada spends a lot of time and miles in tunnels or on viaducts, and hilltop villages were spread as far as we could see. We especially remember a little town name on the map, that we would like to have an Italian pronounce for us — Filadelfia. Now why didn’t we visit?
(Our adventures in Sicily and Sardinia will be told later.)
Chapter 24
THE “TOE” TO THE “HEEL”
THE TIP OF THE TOE
The entire city of Reggio di Calabria could be classified as an archeological zone. Traces from the Stone Age, Greek walls and temples have been found, as well as Latin baths, and an elaborate cemetery belonging to an ancient city. A tourist brochure gives the names of over 100 castles in this part of Italy, most are classified as ruins, some as remains. Wonder what the difference is?
We drove past Reggio di Calabria, continued south for a few miles to the very tip of the Italian toe, and then following the coast line exactly, we turned east under the bottom of the toe. As we continued on the road near the sea we saw hundreds and hundreds of unfinished buildings. This particular area appears generally dry and desert-like, with cactus everywhere. Here’s one reason why travel gets confusing sometimes, there’s a town on the coast on the south side of the “toe” with the name of Melito, and just a couple of pages ago we were in a town named Mileto.
Study a large Italian map close-up, and see that the Italian “boot” looks like a lady’s foot with a corn or callus on top of the toe. An open-toed shoe is complete with a big-toe with the nail showing, a prominent ball of the foot, the arch, then a very high spiked heel.
%CAPO SPARTIVENTO
In another 15 miles, at Capo Spartivento, the road turns north and the climate and the environment changes drastically. There are more miles of homes and apartments (up to half are unfinished), but with trees and greenery all around. An immediate change in the orientation of the coastline has caused an immediate change in the flora and fauna. We are not familiar enough with meteorology to give a scientific explanation, but it appeared to be a result of the direction the wind is blowing when it leaves the sea and passes over the land.
UNFINISHED BUILDINGS
In many towns in southern Italy, and the countryside between, sometimes it seems nearly half of the houses and apartment buildings are still under construction, or at most partially constructed. There are multi-storied apartment buildings with the floors held in place by support posts or pillars, with the floors connected by flights of stair steps. Scattered here and there within those floors and pillars, are completed and lived-in apartments. It's as if they built the “boundaries” then when someone can afford it they built a box containing the apartment. And all around, above and below, some floors are empty, others may have an apartment or two.
Some uncompleted buildings look abandoned, but in others people are living in a finished portion on this floor and that, with gaping holes where apartments are expected to appear in the future. (This is not just a phenomena of this part of Italy, in Sardinia, Sicily, in Greece and Yugoslavia, we remember thousands of lived-in, but uncompleted residential buildings.)
%BOVALINO MARINA
Near Bovalino Marina they installed street lights, built miles of new roads and planted trees, but just down the road another few miles, everything is messy. In this part of Italy we didn’t see the big dumpsters like we saw in northern Italy, but we did see pyramids of plastic bags piled high. It’s as if the public would like to get rid of their trash, but the bureaucrats neglected to buy enough trucks and make arrangements to remove it from view.
COASTLINE RAILROAD
The railroad continues right along the coast, usually between the road and the water. The map shows, and our travels confirm that railroad tracks follow along or near the Italian coastline for hundreds and hundreds of miles. We remember train tracks near the coast in San Remo on the Italian Riviera near France; we rode the train between the Cinque Terre villages north of Pisa; the railroad appeared to supply transportation for vacationers along the coast south of Paestum; and here it continues along the “toe,” the “arch,” and on to the “heel.” In this area the tracks are usually between the road and the water, except for a couple of places where the road and the train swap places for a few miles.
RENOVATED CHURCHES
There must be a special campaign in this area to clean up the churches. We have seen dozens that appear to be currently worked on, some that were freshly renovated, and others that may be nearly new. While they are not huge churches like cathedrals in major cities, the building is often very substantial, the major building in many towns, and usually it has been kept in, or at least has been returned to, like-new condition.
The cost of living is still a mystery to us. In a small supermarket this morning we paid about $6.00 for a small beef-roast, about a kilo, or two pounds. There is never a shortage of food and there’s always a good selection, but the prices are high, at least high compared to what we would expect to pay in the States. The real cost of living is always relative to people’s income, and while we don’t know the rate of pay for an average blue-collar Italian worker, we would guess food takes a large portion of their income. (Our daughter, who is married to an Italian, informed us that beef steaks and roasts are not an important element in the Italian diet.)
We see new plantings of trees and grapevines in nearby fields, and while there is not as much agriculture here as on the west coast of Italy, it appears better than it was on the southern part of the “toe.” Along the road near the water a lot of cactus and century plants grow, and inland here and there we see fields of poppies and a yellow dandelion-like flower, like we saw on the west coast of Italy.
%PUNTA STILO
There’s a castle on the hill above Marina di Gioiosa Lonca, and a light house at Punta Stilo, where the coastline and the road again heads directly north. For a few miles before Punta Stilo the railroad is on the inland side of the road, then just past this little village, it again is right along the water.
We were about the only vehicle on the highway the day we were here, and for many miles we seemed to be almost keeping pace with the train, just a few feet from the highway, almost as close as the two center lanes on the Autostrada. As we drove, at times we would be a quarter-mile ahead, then the train would gain and be ahead of us. Twice, as he gained on us, the engineer blew his whistle and just about blew our minds. He smiled and waved to show he was just being friendly, but boy was that scary!
%SOVERATO
In the very large campsite near Soverato, many workers were trying to get the campsite ready for the beginning of the season, a few weeks after our visit. The busy season is June, July, and August, maybe to mid September. During that time they said the campsite is crowded with week-long and month-long visitors, but during the rest of the year, few people stop for the night. The facilities were quite nice, and there were hundreds of campsites for RVs, trailers, and tents, with dozens of small rooms and many permanently parked small trailers for rent. Large buildings supplied plenty of showers and restroom facilities. At one point near the sandy beach, there was an outdoor bar-b-que restaurant area large enough to supply food for hundreds of people at a time.
Among the workers were two young men from The Netherlands. They could speak five languages, probably one important reason they were hired for this job. Throughout Europe we found people from Holland in campsites everywhere, and we found most citizens from Holland speak English and German, at least, in addition to Dutch. They said so few people speak their language, if they didn’t speak multiple languages, no one could talk with them. Both of these boys would like to move to the US, but admit their chance to do that is slim. The US passes the gate test. Open the gates between the US and any other country, and see which way the people go. Where the US is concerned, the people want to go IN!
They told us that other than Italians, most of the campers during the season are German, but the only other RV in the campground the night we were there was from Switzerland. The campsite owner said he doesn’t remember another American camper ever, in all the years he has operated this campsite. We’ve heard that many times in many countries. In our 605 nights in the RV in Europe over nine trips, during 25 years, we have met Americans six or eight times at the most. In our 117 nights in Italy, we don’t remember meeting even one other American in an Italian campsite.
As has happened on uncounted other mornings, at about 8:15, as we (Jim!) were ready to leave this campsite, there was the following conversation:
Jim. How did you sleep?
Emmy. Fine until 5:00 AM.
J. And after 5:00?
E. Oh, I slept more until 7:15.
J. Oh, you got a good night’s sleep, how do you feel now?
E. I felt tired when I woke up.
J. Do you want to drive, or spend the day here.
E. By 10:00 I’ll know if I’m too tired or not.
J. OK, at 10:00 if you are still tired, we’ll stop for the day.
E. I meant, if I’m not tired at 10:00, then we can leave this campsite.
Want to bet what time we left the campsite? Why is the driver so naive that he thinks he really won this discussion?
A few miles east of Soverato we saw a peach orchard with the trees trimmed into a narrow row, as we have described apple orchards elsewhere. We think this is the first time we have seen a peach orchard planted and trimmed like this.
%CATANZARO
As we approached Catanzaro there was a long bridge that crossed a deep valley right at the edge of the city. From a distance Catanzaro looked interesting and the outskirts of town appeared cleaner than other cities. However, the police had set up a detour and directed traffic in the opposite direction, so we never did get the chance to visit in the center of Catanzaro. We don’t know if there were road and street repairs, a festival, or some kind of a race through the city streets.
At the edge of town there was a clothing store with the name, in English, “Idea Jeans.” We have mentioned other stores and restaurants with names like “Bambi,” “Spartacus,” “Mary Poppins,” “Pop Corn,” “Chewing Gum, Chewing Gum” and “The Best of Video Games.” We wonder if those names are selected because they sound good in Italian, is there some marketing reason for that name, or was the name selected just for fun.
%COSENZA
The sun was out again as we headed inland, but it was cool, and a jacket was needed when we stopped and walked. We drove around in Cosenza for a little while, but did have problems when we met some cars on the very narrow streets. At one place drivers were happy to back up a half block or so to let us out; well maybe not happy, but they did it. There appeared to be a castle high on a hill in the middle of town, but we didn’t try to drive up there.
While we didn’t have this information when we were in Cosenza, a tourist brochure shows a picture of the interior of the church of San Lorenzo. What splendor, what glory. The sculptures, the sculpture reliefs, and the works of art of various types, all bear witness to artists with great skill. We have said this a hundred times, but this really is a unique church. For one thing, instead of pews or hard benches, the congregation enjoys upholstered individual chairs with a most elegant design. The ceiling and upper walls are covered with an embossed or carved motif. Columns and statues are displayed in decorative niches, and the altar area is mainly white.
As we left Cosenza and drove further north on our way back to the coast, we saw green fields, orchards, houses sprinkled on the mountain sides on both sides of the road, and there were always several hilltop towns in the distance. It would have been fun to tour one or more of those hilltop villages, but we often can’t find the village name on our map, and we usually see no roads leading from the highway we are on. It takes so much time and energy to drive these country roads, and trying to drive to some of these villages is unnerving, even for Jim. One thing though, the oleander in the median of the highway along here has been trimmed, and the flowers in the flower-boxes are taller than the weeds. Not something that is seen all that often, in other hundreds of miles of Autostrada.
Although we visited here in April there were lightly dusted, snow capped mountains in contrast with the miles of fields with red poppies and yellow flowers. This is the neatest looking countryside we have seen in Italy, with farms, olive groves, orchards, villages scattered here and there, newly plowed fields and miles of citrus groves.
%SILA
The very prominent ball of the foot of Italy is a called Sila, a name derived from the Latin word for forest. Identified on maps as the Sila Massif, this area is a large granite plateau, and is sometimes called Italy’s little Switzerland. The highest point is 6,300 feet high, covered with magnificent pine and oak forests, and an occasional jade-green lake. It’s hard to imagine, but this far south, and sticking way out into the Mediterranean Sea, until March or April this is a winter sports center.
While we read the Michelin guide as we drove, we wished we had studied it earlier and had taken the time to at least visit the town of San Giovanni in Fiore. We might think that after nearly four months, during eight trips to Italy, we would have seen it all. But if we mark the map with all the places we spent a night, and all the places we have visited or have just driven through, it’s amazing how little of this beautiful country we have seen.
%TREBISACCE
We returned to the coast near Rossano, and along the coast from here to north of Trebisacce, and on towards Taranto the countryside is less green than it was inland near Cosenza, but the wild flowers are still plentiful. The best we can figure, the Italian coastline zigs and zags so much the prevailing wind hits different parts of the coastline from a different direction. It’s apparent that it rains some places, and it’s almost a desert at other places.
Along this coast (in the arch of the foot of Italy) we again see the huge concrete blocks we mentioned earlier. Along this coast many of the blocks are deeply imbedded in the sand. Perhaps there had been a storm since they were put in place, but they have kept the sea from washing away the railway tracks that are very close to the water along here. We saw many of those concrete blocks stored in fields along the way, apparently ready to be put in place before the next storm.
Century plants and cactus grow alongside the railroad tracks, and we passed roadside stands selling oranges. With our usual luck in such matters, just when we decided we would stop at the next fruit-stand, there was no next one. Emmy likes the blood-red oranges (an oxymoron perhaps), but Jim doesn’t think he could eat one with his eyes open. He says they are repulsive looking, but Emmy says they are juicy, no seeds, and sweet. For miles along this road, olive and citrus orchards appear to be irrigated by sprinklers positioned high above the trees.
There is always something different in the vineyards in each part of the country. Here we saw miles of vineyards with millions of wooden stakes, and on the end of each is what looks like a rubber or plastic cap, most likely to help preserve the wood. In various parts of Italy we have seen miles of grape arbor sticks and stakes, but we have seen no others with the end cap. We wonder where they get the wood for those stakes, as we don’t see many trees, and those we see are not the right size for these vineyard stakes.
Drainage ditches line the fields next to the road, and the billboards advertise ditch digging companies. That must be big business around here. We don’t know what it tells us, but we don’t remember advertisement for ditch digging anywhere else in our travels. Perhaps it rains a lot right here, we don’t know.
Chapter 25
PUGLIA, ITALY’S “HEEL”
%PUGLIA (APULIA IN ENGLISH)
When most people think of a vacation in Italy they think of Venice, Milano, Florence and Rome. Be assured that a delightful vacation can be spent in Puglia, the “heel” of Italy. First settled by Greeks, from time to time what is now Puglia was ruled by Romans, Goths, Lombards, Byzantines, Normans, Germans, French, Spanish, Austrians, Neapolitans, and Bourbons. It finally became part of united Italy in 1860.
The mountains, the countryside and the villages in Italy are interesting almost beyond description — they often look very different from one section of the country to another, but we know we are still in Italy. However, Puglia (the Italian Region or State) almost looks like a country of its own. The little towns are an intellectual adventure, very different from what we have seen elsewhere. It’s a land of contrasts with barren plateaus and fertile plains; poor farms and wealthy estates; modern buildings and ancient stone structures.
Over the centuries the rain has carved out narrow valleys and ravines on the surface, and water that disappears underground through sink-holes and fissures has carved out marvelous underground grottos, decorated with stalactites and stalagmites in picturesque formations. The green countryside is the result of mathematically precise vineyards and woodlands.
A geographer wrote that in Puglia the landscape is all “on the horizontal: flat shapes, long views, low hills.” The topography includes flat farmland, rocky hillsides, fertile vineyards, orchards, and other areas that are almost a desolate wind-swept desert.
THE SALENTO PENINSULA
As it is known in Italian, the Penisola Salentina is that portion of Puglia, the “heel” of Italian boot, that extends south from Taranto to Leuca. This is a fairly smooth plain, with no steep grades, and a maximum elevation of maybe 600 feet. The coast is lined with cliffs and picturesque marine grottos.
We have not visited all of Puglia, we spent about one week in the Penisola Salentina and that portion of Puglia from a few miles north of Bari, to Leuca at the very tip of Italy’s “heel.” Thousands of Germans and other Northern Europeans come here for the summer sun, many others are on their way to Greece, and come to Puglia only to catch the ferry boat.
In the “heel,” below Bari, many of the buildings are whitewashed, with a design and style of their own. There are modern buildings, ancient amphitheaters, round stone Trulli houses, and the southern terminal of the Via Appia Antica, the old Appia Way, is in Brandisi.
This is truly a part of Italy not visited by many Americans. One of Jim’s tennis partners had been in the US Air Force during WW II. From an air base at Spinazzola near Bari, he flew bombing missions to the Romanian oil fields, Bucharest, Budapest, Vienna, and various other targets in Europe. They weren’t permitted to travel very far from the airbase, but he said the Italian people were very friendly to the Americans during the war. He especially remembers the Italian barber who came on the base and charged about a nickel for a haircut.
This Air Force pilot said that one time the instructions for the bombing run to Vienna, Austria included the admonition, “Do not bomb Melk.” Located on the Danube River a few miles west of Vienna, Melk is the location of a Benedictine Abbey that is the apogee of Baroque architecture in Austria. The punch line is that one of the architects of that most beautiful set of buildings was Emmy’s ancestor, Franz Munggenast.
As we travel throughout Europe, we are amazed at the thousands of buildings that were damaged or virtually destroyed, then returned to their original glory.
TARANTO’S CAMPSITE
The campsite at Taranto was near the portion of the Ionian Sea known as Golfo di Taranto, but to reach the beach we had to walk through a small pedestrian tunnel under the railroad tracks that run between the road and the water.
As is found many times, there was a very nice restaurant near the campsite office, and Emmy had pizza for dinner, baked in the special pizza oven in the restaurant’s kitchen.
We talked to two people from Germany who had rented one of the permanently parked small trailers for the night. Their car had been broken into earlier that day and their tent and camping equipment were stolen. We’ve heard of a lot of vehicle crime in Italy, but we have been both careful and lucky — we are very careful when and where we park our vehicle, and lucky that the wrong people aren’t aware of when and where we park. As mentioned earlier, our RV was broken into twice in France, the only problem like that we have had anywhere in the 26 European countries where we have spent nights in our RV since 1970.
%TARANTO
Several steel mills are located near Taranto, and piles of steel pipe of all sizes fill the yards near the nicely landscaped Agip Oil Company office. From what we could see as we passed through the industrial part of town, pipe of all sizes must be the major product of those factories. From the presence of the oil refineries and the absence of oil wells in this part of Italy (at least we didn’t see any), this must be the port where crude oil arrives from other countries, then is refined for distribution throughout Italy.
Taranto was founded in BC days by the Spartans from Greece, and the Citta Vecchia, Taranto’s old town, is massed on an island between the Mare Grande (Golfo di Taranto) and the Mare Piccolo (the Inner Port) that serves as a naval harbor. The Via Appia (the old Roman road from Rome built in 312 BC), passes through Taranto, on its way to Brandisi. The Via Appia, now identified as state highway No. 7, was the main connection between Rome, Greece, and the Orient.
We crossed the swing bridge that connects the island with the mainland, then drove on the street that encircles the island. We could look down the streets that crisscross the old city, but many were too narrow for our vehicle. Another of the hundreds of times we have seen something fascinating, while we continue to drive. Even with our non-schedule, our travel time is not everlasting. We justify our action, or rather inaction, by saying, “The next time we are near Taranto, we must be sure to _____.” Well, that’s worked at hundreds of other places, why not Taranto?
In the midst of the island we could see the Duomo, or Cathedral, built in the 1000s AD. The Michelin Guide says the Baroque exterior, the nave and two aisles, are supported with columns with Roman and Byzantine capitals. On the mainland, the Museo Nazionale displays amphorae (a two-handled jar with a narrow neck used by the ancient Greeks and Romans to carry wine or oil), Greek pottery, and delightful terra-cotta statuettes. The Giardini Comunali (public garden) is embellished with exotic and luxuriant plants and flowers.
Downtown Taranto (new town) is cleaner than many Italian cities, and the streets in the new town are wider than in other places we have visited. During Holy Week the celebration of Our Lady of Sorrows, and the Mysteries procession, on Thursday and Good Friday, move exasperatingly slowly — one lasting 12 hours and another 14 hours — as they go from church to church at a very slow pace.
Just on the edge of Taranto there’s an unusual square apartment building, eight or ten stories high. The first several floors were aligned with the street as normally expected, but the next two floors, still square and the same size, were rotated about 45 degrees, then a few more floors matched the first few floors, then more floors were turned 45 degrees. Looked like a building a child might build with play blocks. Not too pretty, but interesting, and they did try for a little style. It was different, we’ve seen nothing like it elsewhere.
On a Monday morning we shopped in a large, rather new, very nice supermarket. It seemed funny to us that the day after a weekend and the day before a National holiday, the supermarket is open early, but has very few customers. One man said, in English, with a sheepish grin, “Italians don’t like to get moving after a weekend of rest.” Following the Tuesday holiday (April 25 is the holiday the Italians won for WW II), Wednesday is the day all grocery stores will be closed at noon. They never miss a chance to close the store and take the day off.
At some stores we have been offered the Italian version of “Green Stamps,” which we left on the counter for the next shopper. At this store, when the lady in front of us seemed so pleased to receive the “Green Stamps” she had earned, we made sure we gave our stamps to her. She was so tickled, as though we had given her the moon.
Two young men from Germany were shopping in this store. They had seen us park our vehicle with German license plates, and assumed we were German. They thought Jim would fall for their plea that since the dozen bottles of beer in their grocery cart would take all of their money, would he please give them money for food. Little did they know they had asked the one person most likely to refuse that request, of all the people in the world.
%ORIA
Oria is a little white hill-town dominated by a cathedral decorated with multi-colored tile, and a castle with a triangular floor plan and three large towers. The day we were there, the main plaza of Oria was decorated with building-size structures made of white wooden slats bedecked with Christmas tree-like lights, all set for a festival of some kind on this late-April day. We tried, but could not find anyone who could tell us (in English) what was going on. Now that’s frustrating!
At a branch of the Bank of America/Italia, it took only a couple of minutes to get money using our Visa card, but they still called it the BankAmericard. The Bank of American in the US was originally called the Bank of Italy, and they originated the BankAmericard, now known in most places as the Visa Card. This bank in Italy is the only one we’ve seen recently (1989) that still used the original credit card name.
Oria is an interesting town to walk through, and here as in other nearby towns, they have painted or whitewashed just as high as they could reach, and no higher. It is much like we saw at the town of Sperlonga on the coast between Rome and Naples, and as mentioned earlier, we saw the same style paint, or whitewash job at some small towns in Greece.
%SAVA
Sava appeared deserted, and the sign on a grocery store window said it's closed for tomorrow’s holiday. Don’t think they needed the sign, we saw no people and no indication people had been there for a long time. Puzzling. In spite of the shuttered houses and the almost complete lack of people on the streets, a Nursery School had cut-outs of Mother Goose characters in its windows, and a miniature golf course near Sava appeared to be open, awaiting customers. Sheep grazing beside the road, little stone walls, poppies, not wild but planted in rows — but still puzzling.
%MANDURIA
Since all traffic lights in Manduria were blinking yellow, it’s obvious the town officials knew there would be very little vehicle traffic that day — it was not as big a surprise to them as it was to us. It’s not as if the drivers had parked and become pedestrians, we saw almost no parked cars and no people either.
Manduria consists of many white or light colored, mostly one-story buildings. There is a fine Romanesque cathedral with a multi-colored tile dome, another church was near an old wall that had a sign that said it was 1,000 years old, dating from Messapian days. Since the Encyclopedia says the Messapains were here a thousand years before the Romans, maybe the sign should say the wall was 3,000 years old. Near Brandisi the Messapian town of Mesagne, named Messapia in ancient times, is said to have been founded about 1600 BC.
There was a Messenian War in Greece in 735 BC; the Messapian Alphabet is an Italian offshoot of the Greek alphabet; and the Messapian language is related to languages on the east side of the Adriatic Sea. It’s a good bet these towns, monuments, walls, and buildings identified as Messapian were influenced by the Greeks who landed here twenty to twenty-five centuries ago.
The olive groves near Manduria (and throughout this peninsula) have trees with old, old knurled trunks. We were told some of these olive groves are a thousand years old and older. The knurled, twisted, sculptured trees present some of the most delightful and tangled sculpture imaginable. Some look like modernistic statues; others could be a substitute for a Rorschach ink-blot test.
On the west side of the “heel” many new, very nice 10 story apartment buildings were built in an area that looks like a new town. Sheets of plastic cover the ground between rows of plants in the vegetable fields. Flocks of long-haired sheep and olive groves are seen on both sides of the road. At one place a vineyard had no wooden stakes of any kind, then a mile or two later, one had stakes at every vine. Is there a difference in the variety of the grapes, or a difference in the farmer who owns the field?
As we continued south along the west side of the “heel,” we saw little towns with all white buildings, but no people and no cars. The towns appeared to be deserted, but most likely this is a summer resort area, not yet open for the season. Perhaps the owners live too far away to come for the weekend just past, and the single holiday just coming.
The fences around home front yards are of an interesting varied design, and there’s an occasional fishing boat parked in the yard. At one point we saw no trees anywhere, although there were groves of pine trees a few miles earlier. As we drove we saw a lot of white buildings, a beautiful sandy beach, then a few miles later, a messy beach. Now some grassy sand dunes with wild flowers, followed by a vacant beach. Today we see no people and the area appears somewhat desolate, but someone must have dropped this litter last weekend, or maybe last year.
It's amazing, these changes happened mile after mile and the change is complete, drastic, and fascinating. One would think we would have to drive a hundred miles to see all these changes, instead of maybe just twenty to thirty miles. Now there are a few shrubs and vineyards, and in the distance, big trees, but still few signs of people. Dasco Village is a new housing development of white two-story condos, a
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