As a son of Italian immigrants, my parents raised me to love
and cherish Italy. I have lost count of how many times I have been blessed to
visit, to see friends and relatives in Sicily and Genoa, and to enjoy the
natural, artistic and historical beauty of everywhere in between. At age 55, you would think that going to
Italy would be old hat for me by now, but I can say without hesitation that my
trip to Italy this year has been the most memorable by far.
Why? Because it was
the first time I got to share Italy with some dear American friends. My wife Susan and I were joined by three
other couples: Gordon and Jean, Glenn
and Donna, and Tommy and Jeanne. We had
been planning the trip for almost two years and everyone was excited, but no
one as much as me, because I was looking forward to playing tour guide and showing
off the land that I love. Though I had
seen many of the places before, I would vicariously be enjoying them for the
first time as I saw Italy’s unmatched beauty through my friends’ eyes.
I was a little nervous at first, wanting more than anything
for my friends to have the time of their lives.
The extended weather forecasts did not look promising, calling for unseasonably
cool weather with the rainy season uncharacteristically lingering into late May
and early June. Wanting them to have a good
impression from the start, I was also nervous about landing at Rome’s Fiumicino
airport, which is not known to be traveler friendly.
Thankfully, when we landed, the sun was shining. It was still May, and the chaos so
characteristic of Fiumicino in July and August did not materialize. Though we were exhausted from the
trans-Atlantic journey and needing three or four more hours of sleep, it seemed
to take very little time to make it through Controllo
Passaporti [immigration], retrieve
our baggage and rent a nine passenger van.
Before we knew it, we were on the Grande
Raccordo Anulare (the Roman beltway) heading toward Highway A1- South.
After a good shot of espresso
ristretto at the first Autogrill, I was all set to drive us to the Amalfi Coast while everyone
else caught up on sleep. Our destination
was Praiano, a small town on
the Gulf of Salerno side of the Sorrentine Peninsula, just past Positano. The intention was to spend a couple of nights
just to chill out and enjoy the scenery as we recovered from the jet lag.
 |
| Breathtaking views like this are all over the Amalfi Coast |
By the time we took the exit at Castellamare di
Stabia, everyone was awake and excited to get to our destination. It was not long before the “ooh”s and “ah”s
started as we hairpinned along the road that hugs the mountainside high above
the Tyrrhenian Sea. Of course we stopped
at many of the scenic overlooks, taking way too many pictures of us smiling in
front of the backdrop of the Bay of Naples and Mt. Vesuvius.
Driving the narrow, Sorrentine streets was not a new
experience for me, but this was the first time I did so in a nine passenger
van, so it took a little getting used to.
I eventually achieved a certain comfort level and was able to navigate
without giving it much thought. It was
only later that I realized that my passengers were terrified.
“Did you realize that you only missed that wall by about two
inches?” Tommy asked as he pulled in the passenger side view mirror to keep it
from scraping.
“Well, I did miss it, did I not?”
The only other complication about the drive had to do with
relying on a GPS for the first time. It
proved to be more trouble than it was worth, especially in mountainous areas
like the Amalfi Coast, because it had trouble distinguishing the road we were
on from the road 50 feet above us with almost identical coordinates. At one point, we came to a dead end and the GPS
squawked: “Turn right onto
pathway.” Uh, no, I don’t think so, as
that would send us careening down the mountainside. With the help of a friendly resident guiding
us through what seemed like a fifteen point turn, we somehow managed to turn
the huge van around and get to our destination at the Hotel Holiday in Praiano. We arrived exhausted, but we were jazzed by
the new experience and the stunning views from our balconies.
 |
| Positano |
The next morning, we wisely decided to leave the van parked at
the hotel and took the bus to Positano.
Words cannot do justice to this lovely town of cobblestone streets,
quaint shops with flowers everywhere, artisans showing off their handiwork,
stone houses stairstepping up the mountainside, and the crystal clear waters of
the Bay of Salerno. We decided to have
lunch at La Cambusa, relaxing
at an outdoor table on a terrace overlooking the main beach. I was skeptical at first, fearing it might be an overpriced tourist trap, but it turned out that the food was delicious and very reasonably priced. We asked for their red house wine, and I was surprised when they brought out a couple of very good bottles of Aglianico. (I had only
recently learned about Aglianico at
the Italian Wine and Culture Seminars held at Casa Italiana in Washington, DC,
that it was the prime grape of the Campania region and often called the “Barolo
of the South.” The wine lived up to its
name, and we would enjoy many more bottles of Aglianico during our stay in Italy.)
 |
| Enjoying some appetizers and some Aglianico at La Cambusa. |
The following day, we were headed back north. After spending a few hours touring the ruins
of Pompei, we were on our way to Rome for three nights. Not that we didn’t enjoy it, but the time in
Rome was almost obligatory. One does not
come to Italy without seeing the Coliseum, the Forum and the rest of Ancient
Rome, as well as St. Peter’s Basilica and the Vatican. To bypass them would be--shall we say?--a
sin.
 |
| In front of St. Peter's Basilica |
 |
| A view of Assisi from the fortress of Rocca Maggiore |
As we entered Umbria, it was raining, and my heart sank as I
could barely make out the contours of Assisi shrouded in fog and rain. This would not do. But somehow, miraculously after we had checked
into our hotel and had a light lunch, the rain abated and the sun started
peeking through the clouds. We dared to
venture out on foot down the medieval cobblestone streets, and a few of us climbed
the path to Rocca Maggiore, where we enjoyed a breathtaking bird’s-eye view of
St. Francis’ home town and its beautiful churches, castles, and surrounding
countryside.
The next morning, we were off to Villa Giardo, a spacious
and elegant five bedroom villa nestled in the hills about halfway between the
towns of Greve in
Chianti and Figline
Valdarno. Here again the GPS proved to be worthless, because Villa Giardo
is so remote that the last mile is made up of unpaved “roads” that a GPS could
only guess at. The street address was
“Via Case Sparse” (“scattered houses”), so you can imagine the setting. The final mile ascending to the villa was
somewhere between exhilarating and terrifying, but, having reached our
destination, it was more than worth it.
The Villa is a restored stone building, parts of which date
back to the year 1059. The interior has
every modern day comfort and convenience you could wish for, even while
retaining an old world ambience. It is
surrounded by cultivated trees and gardens, vineyards and olive groves. Many an evening was spent gazing at the stars
and admiring the flora and fauna in this utterly peaceful setting while sipping
on abundant wine, enjoying delicious food, and deepening friendships.
 |
| Villa Giardo |
