We went down from Padova to hang out in Abruzzo in one of the hill towns a few kilometers in
from the coast. Deb’s brother’s
girlfriend was so enchanted with the area that she bought a house here. After spending a few days here, we can see
why.
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Abruzzo vista
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Our little Clio zips
up the hill as the sun shoots orange daggers of light through gold
rimmed clouds. A giant fiery dragon
cloud is lit by the sun. We pass vineyards with vines heavy with deep purple grapes, A Lamborghini
whizzes by, but this Lamborghini is a tractor pulling a trailer laden with
grapes dripping a trail of juice. It is
harvest time in Abruzzo.
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| Vineyards right, olives left |
We roll into a small town perched on a hill overlooking the
vineyards and olive orchards below.
Just
as the sun is setting,
we spot the only
blue house on the street
and find a parking
place right in front.
Mike’s girlfriend,
bursts out the door just as we pull up.
Her excitement is overwhelming.
She has spent months in anticipation and
preparation for our arrival.
We quickly
unload the car and are shown to our suite of rooms on the third floor.
I step through French doors and admire the
room.
White walls terminate in huge
coved crown molding.
A large Venetian
chandelier hangs in the center of the room.
A comfy couch placed on a woven mat, invites
me to sit. But Rene is eager to lead us across
the terrazzo floor to the bedroom.
A
wrought iron bed
covered with a deep
blue quilt and lots of pillows invites me to lie down. (I am tired so this is
difficult to resist) A small café table, dresser and nightstands with lamps
finish the room. She walks across the room and unlatches the French doors.
We step out onto a granite slab balcony to
gaze across the orchards and vineyards below.
In the distance I see to the deep blue Adriatic. At the other end of the suite, I find a view over the rooftops.
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| View from south balcony |
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| View from north balcony |
We head back downstairs to crack open a bottle of
Montepulciano d’Abruzzo and toast the
hostess and Deb’s brother Michael and dive into a light supper of Italian cold
cuts, cheese and fresh Italian bread.
We eat and drink until we can eat no more and decide to take a stroll
through the village.
Out the door to right in just a few feet we find the central
piazza.
This is a modest village so
there is nothing fancy about the piazza.
It is quiet for a Saturday night, but this is to be expected in a little
village in the middle of olive groves and vineyards where everyone has worked the harvest from sunup to sundown.
We walk down narrow streets of three and four
story buildings.
The town dates back to
the sixth century so many of the houses are hundreds of years old.
You can feel history here as you walk through
the quiet
night.
The Lombards came here in the sixth century
in search of new income and within a few years, the village was an important
commercial center.
However, today it is
a sleepy little town that the modern world has mostly passed by.
A few days later, we sit in the downstairs kitchen.
The open door reveals a small slice of the
Abruzzo countryside patterned with alternating fields of
olives and grapes.
The late September sun shines brightly here,
illuminating hills of green that roll all the way to the sea.
Lunch is a fresh green salad with locally
grown greens and tomatoes, the fine red wine of the region and more Italian
cold cuts and fresh Italian bread.
I sit
and sip my wine gazing out the door.
Life is good.
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| Dinner at a local bistro |
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| Mike just needs a little olive oil to feel like a sardine |
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| Life is good |
