November 1 is Reclamation Day

There was only one sign for pumpkin spice anything, and it was at the train station in Rome. Starbucks, of course, and my apologies to all who love the fall-themed brew. But then there was the Trick or Treat sign on the Irish pub (!) in my Italian town of Sulmona. It was jarring. Halloween hasn’t yet come to Italy in a big way, and that’s fine with me. Call me a grump.

Because the rest of the year (as most of you know) I live in Salem, Massachusetts where, over the past 20 years, Halloween starts in early September and runs through mid-November. The crowds are staggering – nearly one million people come into town on Halloween weekend alone. Adults in goth costumes wander the streets, looking for signs of something wicked, I suppose. Or at least something to do. This town of 46,000 or so residents is overwhelmed by traffic, both vehicular and pedestrian, who somehow think that it’s a theme park and that nobody really lives here and has to get stuff done. End of rant.

I think it’s tragic that a city with such a rich history in the areas of maritime, literary, architecture and art – heck, the telephone was first tested here – is known mostly for an unfortunate few months when more than 200 people were falsely accused of witchcraft. Twenty were hung and one was pressed to death in a series of sensational trials. It is a devastating story of superstition, misogyny and land grabs. I do not take this lightly. But when it is translated into pointy hats, zombies, monsters and haunted houses, I say please take this freak show somewhere else. Of course, the broom is already out of the barn and witch images are everywhere, from the police cars to the local newspaper.

Just last week, I pushed some guy out of the way on the pedestrian mall so that I could get to my dentist appointment in time. He was just STANDING THERE in some kind of weird costume. A fully grown adult. It brings out the worst in me. But tomorrow, we start to go back to normal. Start. It’s Reclamation Day in Salem.

Another cappuccino, please. Hold the pumpkin spice.

SMPE

Sulmo Mihi Patria Est

The poet Ovid said this about a million years ago: Sulmona is my fatherland.

There is evidence of his life all around the city of Sulmona in Abruzzo.

It makes me happy to be in a place that recognizes the importance of letters and poetry.

Ovid watches everything from Piazza XX Settembre

Regular readers will know that Tim and I started our adventures in Sulmona more than 10 years ago, but started buying property with friends in 2014. We’ve since added two more apartments in the building and now it is all ours. And one of them might be yours — at least for a holiday rental!

Hard work by our friends Louis and Vicky, Carlo and Delfo, Tim and Marco, and a team of local tradesmen have transformed the top two floors of our “Casa Linda” into an ideal holiday rental for anyone who wants to explore the treasures of Abruzzo and come home to a nice-sized city with great restaurants, an opera house, and almost always something going on, including the incredible Easter Madonna che Scappa and the July/September giostre.

The apartment is on two floors, each with a small balcony that affords amazing views of the surrounding mountains — on a clear day you can even see the Gran Sasso! It’s down by the Hotel Ovidio and San Panfilo cathedral, so just a two-minute walk to the Villa Communale and the Corso, which takes you right to the heart of everything.

There’s nothing quite like a Sulmona sunset from the balcony of Casa Linda 3!

The first floor of the apartment (two floors up) has a brand new bedroom, fully-stocked new kitchen and a well-appointed bath. Go upstairs to a massive salon space with a futon that sleeps 2 and one of those Ikea chairs that also converts to a single bed. Then there’s the garden/party room, complete with dishes, glasses, and a small frig for your entertaining pleasure. And the views from the balconies are stunning!

We’re offering it for minimum one-week stays at $80/75E per night except in July and August, when it goes up to $90/85E per night. Plus a 50E cleaning fee. Here’s a short video [https://youtu.be/Zsh0HpJjM_o] that my friend Marco Malvestuto made for us, which shows you a little of the charm of Sulmona, plus the apartment. Please contact me directly if you’re interested in booking, or learning more: LindaDiniJenkins@gmail.com. And let me know if you can’t open the video — I’m technologically challenged, to be kind.

Buon viaggio!

 

 

 

2023: A Pivot

The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things . . .

 

How much we’ve learned since we started running these tours back in 2004 (unofficially) and then, more officially, in 2009. It all started with a trip to Florence with some friends in 2000, and I was hooked on Italy.

Over the years, Tim and I have taken small groups of curious travelers to marvelous places. We’ve introduced some of you to great wines you’ve never heard of, brought you to the plains they call Little Tibet, cooked with you in Le Marche and Lombardia and Puglia, became educated about art and history, laughed uncontrollably with locals, made fun of ourselves and our lousy Italian, driven on death-defying hairpin turns to see castles in the sky, relaxed on the most beautiful terrace in all of Venice, gotten hopelessly behind schedule in Sicily, stayed in gorgeous cave hotels, driven down roads we shouldn’t have, seen ancient ruins and felt like ruins ourselves at the end of a long day, and discovered the world’s largest frying pan (in Liguria) together. And that’s just for starters.

In that time, we’ve gotten older. I don’t know how that happened. But we’ve decided to step back a little and reassess our offerings.

Nothing will stop us from going to Italy (we now own apartments in two marvelous regions of Italy) and we plan to spend more time there, enjoying said food and wine and removing ourselves for a time from the craziness that is America right now. But we will pivot.

Starting in 2023, we will be putting together two tours annually for you — one to the beautiful, crazy wild, and very down-to-earth region of Abruzzo. And one almost to the tip of the heel of the boot, on the sunny and surprising Salento Peninsula of Puglia. We hope you’ll want to join us.

Why Abruzzo? The easy answer would be to refer you to Abruzzissimo Magazine, created by my friend and colleague Anna Lebedeva, who came to me two years ago and asked that I help her bring an online English-language magazine about Abruzzo to life. And so I did. The more thorough answer is that we fell in love with a small city (pop. 24,000) called Sulmona about a dozen years ago, claimed it as our own, and have been exploring Abruzzo’s treasures ever since.

What can I say? It’s the greenest region of Europe, boasting three national parks and a regional park. It has good skiing and 14 Blue Flag beaches. The wine is affordable and fantastic. The food is simple and delicious cucina povera. (I doubt you’ll find better cheese anywhere.) The traditions and festivals — a little bit Christian, a little bit pagan — are year-round and moving. Even the serpent festival in Cocullo, apparently.

The hilltop towns provide relief from the summer heat as well as gorgeous views. There are churches and museums for those who want that. There is an opera house in Sulmona and a 3-Michelin star restaurant in nearby Castel del Sangro, which also has some fine fly fishing. It made its wealth from the wool trade and the transhumanza – the moving of the flocks from Abruzzo down to Puglia for better grazing every winter — is still a thing. Scanno is a fine place for filigree jewelry and Sulmona is the best place for all manner of confetti candy. Come to Sulmona in July and you’ll experience a medieval joust; come at Easter and you’ll see the processions and La Madonna che Scappa in the big piazza. Just come.

The heel of the boot has a completely different feel. With the longest coastline of any region in mainland Italy, Puglia, by virtue of its situation, often feels more Greek than Italian. It has experienced invasions from the Normans, the Swabians, and the Spanish (who left an incredible baroque style of architecture). The cucina povera is still there — here, with more fish — and the wines are phenomenal, even though you probably haven’t heard of most of them before. The city of Lecce, which stole our hearts, is called “The Florence of the South” because of its amazing architecture and sophisticated feel. With a Roman amphitheatre, a Roman theatre, and about a gazillion restaurants, this is the city to see. There’s an extremely well done museum that explores the Jewish presence on the peninsula, as well. And the churches are incredible.

Papier mache is big here, as is olive oil (in spite of the blight that scientists are trying feverishly to arrest). Towns like Galatina (with its incredible school of Giotto frescoes), coastal Gallipoli, Trani with its fort and cathedral, Alberobello with its trulli . . . there’s no lack of places to go. It will absolutely charm you. And a foray into nearby Basilicata for a stay in Matera (which was the European Capital of Cultural a few years ago) is a must-do. We are 15 minutes from either the Ionian Sea or the Adriatic — this is a summer paradise.

So . . . that’s where we’ll be going. We hope you will join us. We’ll be posting particulars by year-end, but welcome your questions and comments any time.

As Mary Shelley once wrote, The name of Italy has magic in its very syllables. We hope you’ll come and share some of the magic we’ve found.

Buon viaggio! 

 

The Joy of Abruzzissimo!

Nine issues in, and I have been remiss. Of course, I don’t even know what day it is most weeks and time has lost all meaning, so I won’t be too hard on myself.

Anna, at work  

But here’s the story: early into the lockdown in 2020, I got an e-mail from a friend in far-away Abruzzo. Anna is also a writer who has created several businesses in the region offering tours, cooking classes, a place for ex-pats to gather online and basically sharing the joys of Abruzzo and its traditions to anyone who will listen.

We were introduced a few years ago by mutual friends in the lovely town of Santo Stefano di Sessanio (I think, it’s been a while!) and have stayed in touch. It’s the positive side of social media. In 2019 (again, I think!) Tim and I talked our friends Lou and Vicky into going on Anna’s walking tour of Tocco da Casauria, which turned out to be one of the best days in Abruzzo to date.

Anyway, she asked me if I might be interested in working with her on the launch of a new magazine that would be all about Abruzzo. There’s no money in it yet, she said, so of course, I said yes, because that’s what I do for love. We agonized over names and article ideas, split up the writing (she and her small band of contributors do most of it) and set about making a thing: The first English-language magazine about the whole marvelous Abruzzo region.

Full disclosure for new readers: Tim and I own a small apartment in Abruzzo, in the town of Sulmona, and have ourselves become Abruzzo aficionados. So it was a perfect fit!


Abruzzissimo Magazine presents a great mix of stories each month (10X/year), focusing on local traditions, food and wine, places to go, stories of ex-pats who have bought and renovated homes, recipes, restaurant reviews, a calendar of events — even the occasional contest — and more. It’s a lot of hard work and long hours, but it’s been so rewarding. And the best part (for readers)? It’s free! Just sign up and it will appear like magic in your mailbox at the beginning of the month.

As the stateside Copy Editor and proud Abruzzo promoter, I invite you to join us on this journey into what I believe is one of the best-kept secrets in Italy. Abruzzo is charming, rugged, historic, green, breathtakingly beautiful — and only two hours from Rome!

So if you can’t be there in person now, you can be there in spirit with this lovely publication. Sign up, sit down with a glass of vino or a cup of cafe, and dream about when travel is possible once again. And put Abruzzo on your bucket list!

Buon viaggio!

DD82EFF8-A797-4AF5-A0EC-352D370511BE

The View, Seven Months Out . . .

My head has been a bit cloudy these past months — how about you? Dealing with a global pandemic plays a big part, to be sure. We were locked down for a while, and we miss our family and friends and our routine. We are wearing masks, social distancing, washing our hands and still using (and cleaning with) sanitizers. We are locked out of Italy until things get better here, which they aren’t. And won’t, until some big changes are made. Fingers crossed for November 3.

But I hear a lot of talk about the emotional stagnation of government-induced PTSD, and that sounds about right. I wake with a headache and spend the days with a lump in my solar plexus the size of an orange. Some days, it’s hard to get anything done, and it’s r-e-a-l-l-y hard to be creative. I get more migraines than ever before. I feel hopeless, then giddy, then scared to death, all in the same damn day! It’s a pattern that repeats and repeats and I’m getting sick of it. The news has been devastating. More black lives lost, gangs of gun-toting right-wing boymen threatening our streets, and conspiracy theories that make HG Wells stories seem absolutely normal.

The environment is in more peril than it has been for decades; we have alienated our once-steady allies; we are denying science and calling top scientists idiots; we insult our military and call them losers; we mock the disabled; we incite violence and offer to pay for the wrongdoers’ legal fees; we withhold truth, deflect blame, and in short, Trump and his lackies are killing us. As I write this, more than 229,000 of us are dead – while we are being told that we’re “rounding the curve” and that the disease “kills practically nobody” anymore. And the example that these no-goodniks are setting for the younger generations is alarming and possibly irrevocable.

We are through the looking glass, people.

In response to news stories, I have never used the phrase, “What the actual fuck?!?!” as much as I have in these past few months. I saw a Sesame Street spoof on Facebook, showing Burt and Ernie declaring that the year 2020 is being brought to you by the letters, W, T and F, so I guess I’m in good company.

I find brief glimpses of sanity by thinking about the time when we can travel again — maybe even move away for good. Of course, the whole world is suffering now, and parts of Europe (including parts of Italy) are plunging back into lockdown after a few months of virus exhaustion and subsequent COVID spread. So what to do?

We all have our formulas for staying vertical these days. Some people have turned to fanatical exercise. Not me. Others have sworn off the sauce. Also not me. Endless reading of books and streaming movies sounds nice, but I have a job. Scrabble and Solitaire are my constant “break” companions, but my new heroes are the travel guides in Italy who are bringing live tours to their audiences through Facebook Live and Zoom events. Now that’s something I can wrap my head around. See Italy. Learn new stuff. Support the guides who lives have been devastated by the lock-down.

During this pandemic, I’ve been to Venice, to Sicily, to Campania, and to Abruzzo. I’ve learned about art, about cooking, about wines, and about history. I’ve seen how the Venetians handled their own plagues, taken cooking classes, learned about virtual wine tastings, and “walked” through lovely rural villages with local guides. This feeds my soul and keeps me in shape for whatever the new normal will bring.

On the local front, our preeminent Salem historian decided to give noon-time Zoom lectures to a group of fans and history lovers – sometimes as many as 40 – who hung in with him week after week, for about five months. God bless him; his humor and stories kept us from going off the deep end every day.

To learn more about these treasure trips, visit the sites of Luisella Romeo, Danielle Oteri, Anne Robichaud, Anna Lebedeva and, in Salem,  Jim McAllister.

So here’s to our travel and history first responders. Thank you for what you are doing. Please keep it up. And maybe we’ll see you in person in 2021!

Meanwhile, stay sane and stay safe, everybody —

Buon viaggio!

Thoughts on Leadership in a Time of Crisis

You don’t make the timeline, the virus makes the timeline — Dr. Anthony Fauci

In other times, my suitcase would be fully packed by now for an April 8 departure to Rome. In other times, I would have a full schedule of things on my itinerary to show you: fantastic restaurants; cooking classes with friends; wine tastings with some of the best in the region; natural beauty to take your breath away; historic churches and museums. New friends to make, new food to eat, new memories to savor. And so much more.

But these are not other times. This is now. And we who love Italy are all feeling so many emotions at once. Grief. Fear. Pride. Horror.

And as we stand on the shore of our own oncoming tsunami, we feel all of that for ourselves as well. Is it harder to know, or to not know? I’m not sure . . .

Things are difficult here in the States right now. A leadership vacuum at the top – and sheer stupidity from some in Congress and in state and local government – has made some of us wonder how many of us will truly get out of this alive. For sure, none of us will get out without being changed in some way. Let’s hope it’s for the better (apart from the 20 pounds it looks like we’re all going to gain).

In times like these we look for heroes. I posit that two Italian-Americans have risen to that level: Dr. Anthony Fauci, who brought us first out of the AIDS crisis in the 1980s-1990s, and was there for every ensuing pandemic. And Governor Andrew Cuomo, who every day brings me to tears with his facts, his eloquence, his heart, and his personal observations. Earlier this week, when he quoted from his father, the late Governor Mario Cuomo, my heart nearly couldn’t take it.

Although I live in Massachusetts now, I will always be a New Yorker. I was born just outside the city, went to school upstate, and arrived with my degree in the Big Apple in 1973. For 17 years, I lived in Brooklyn and then Manhattan. I love the noise, the bustle, the promise of New York. I love the air brakes, the honking horns, and the colorful language. I love the melting pot of it, the theatre of it, the uptown and downtown of it.

So I am very proud that another Italian-American is in charge of the state today. And that he has his head on straight and that he is able to clearly articulate what we need to hear in an honest, professional, and compassionate voice.

Years ago, his father asked an Italian-American reporter, “Were you always Italian?” An odd question, but one which I have wrestled with for most of my life. To him, “being” Italian meant not just loving Rome and Florence and Venice – that’s easy. It meant understanding the Mezzogiorno [southern Italian] culture, too; being Italian meant overcoming the urge to hide the impoverished land of your ancestry. He both understood and overcame.

Perhaps, in a similar way, that embracing of all that is New York has rubbed off in a major way on his son Andrew, and that has contributed to Andrew’s being the level-headed and admired leader that he is today.

Of course, there are flaws, as with any human being. But for now, he is the best we have and I believe we are the better for it. Every single day.

We don’t know where this Covid-19 pandemic is going to go, or where it will add end (or even when). For now, we can stay inside, wash our hands, try not to eat a pound of pasta at one sitting, and think of where we might have been next month. And think about when we will go again.

Italy needs us. We need Italy. And if it is meant to be, we will be there together again before too long.

Stay safe.

IMG_1328

Almost Losing it in Rome

Italy has changed. But Rome is Rome. – Robert De Niro

 

At first, I hated Rome. Too many tourists, too many noisy Vespas, too many waiters trying to lure me into mediocre restaurants, too many things to see in one lifetime . . . just too, too much! I always said that if I wanted to be in a big crowded city, I’d have stayed in New York. At least I speak the language and the streets are in a grid so it’s easy to find everything.

But a few years ago, Rome started to grow on me. Little by little, I came to see that you can do Rome in small chunks. You don’t have to try to see it all at once. So one trip focused on the neighborhood around the Borghese Gardens. Another trip kept us in Trastevere for the duration. Still another brought us over to via Margutta and the ghost of Fellini. It’s been like that ever since. Get to Rome, stay in your (imaginary) lane and promise to come back and see something different next time. Rome will always be Rome.

Three years ago Tim and I found ourselves without a Spring tour, but we headed to bella italia anyway. Our trip: touring with friends in Abruzzo on our own, searching for new experiences for future group tours, and finding a little time to relax. It had been a grueling winter and we were ready for a break.

We decided to start our venture with two nights in Rome. All to ourselves. Yay! We had booked into a little boutique hotel near the Spanish Steps that I had read about. After landing at Fiumicino, we took the Leonardo Express into Rome Termini, jumped on the metro to Spagna station, and walked the block or so to the hotel. By now, we were incredibly excited to be in Rome on our own, but also incredibly tired. And it was only 3:00 in the afternoon!

We checked in, unpacked a little, and then committed the cardinal sin of travel: we actually laid down to rest our eyes. A quick power nap. Forty winks, is all…

I woke up after a very restful sleep and it was already light out. I panicked. Shaking Tim awake, I said something like, Holy shit! We only have 2 nights in Rome and we just slept through one of them! We both jumped out of bed and showered as fast as we could, determined to make the most of the second day. We were kicking ourselves all the way down to the breakfast room. We knew better than this. How could we be so stupid? We had lost a whole day!!

The breakfast room was lovely, and we were greeted by the desk clerk on our way in. Before even choosing a table, we marched right up to the buffet — and saw no breakfast. And no other people. We had missed breakfast, too! This day was really sucking. But, we told ourselves, it was only 7:30 . . . maybe they didn’t start serving until 8:00. So we chose a table, sat down, and started to plan our day when a waiter came over and asked if he could bring us a drink.

We looked up, startled. Coffee? Tim said. Orange juice? I said. He looked a little puzzled. For breakfast, he said. Yes, we nodded. He left, confused, but no more confused than we were. At that point, I got a message from our mobile service welcoming us to Rome. I took a long look at the screen and realized, to my everlasting relief, that it was 7:30 in the evening, not 7:30 the next morning.

We felt like Scrooge on Christmas morning! We got the day back! It wasn’t gone after all! We were exactly on time for a spritz and a walk around the neighborhood before dinner. We practically danced around the breakfast room!

Seeing this, the desk clerk now realized what had gone on. We almost kissed him as we ran down the stairs and out into the Rome night – still light at this hour in the Spring, and especially beautiful after a light rain. We feasted on a wonderful dinner at Porto di Ripetta, just a few blocks away off the Piazza del Popolo, where they served us a beautiful salt-crusted fish and some wonderful dry white wine.

We almost lost it in Rome. Time, that thing we can never have too much of. We spent it in gratitude for hours in the piazza. And we had the next day, too. Because Rome is always Rome.

Buon viaggio!

Walking in Abruzzo

The 19th-century Italian diplomat and journalist Primo Levi said that the adjectives “forte e gentile” (strong and gentle) best describe the beauty of Abruzzo and the character of its people…

 

I am always enamored by folks who are as crazy about Abruzzo as I am. So when I was offered a chance to read and review Stuart Haines’ new walking guide about Abruzzo, I said yes without hesitation. Full disclosure here: I am neither an athlete nor a big walker and will probably never embark on any of the 20 kilometer (km) walks he’s carefully outlined. But I’m already considering some of the shorter ones for a future tour.

 

This is a gem of a small book. Called Walking in Abruzzo: Gran Sasso, Maiella and Abruzzo National Parks, and Sirente-Velino Park, Haines’ guide is published by Cicerone press out of the U.K. – which specializes in guides for walkers, cyclists, trekkers and mountaineers. This is a must-have book for all those who love to explore the wild regions of Abruzzo — and there are many, as it is known as “the green heart of Europe.” As a tour director who calls Abruzzo home for part of the year and who brings small groups of travelers there as often as possible, I know what the region is composed of: three national parks and a regional park that are simply stunning. Even an amateur walker like me can appreciate what Stuart writes:

Abruzzo is wonderful walking country. It is one of the wildest and least populated regions of Italy, with 169 peaks over 2000m, long mountain ridges, high plains and deep gorges, huge forests of native beech, oak and pine and gentle fertile valleys. The highest points in peninsular Italy and the southernmost glacier in Europe are all here.

This is a very well organized book, providing solid background information about the region, its history, its geography, its flora and fauna (brown bears! wolves! red deer! wild boar!), its food and drink, and even how to get there. And with lots of detailed maps and color photos, this is a book that’s as user-friendly as it is beautiful.

Incredibly, Stuart has created 40 different walks that span the entire region and that will appeal to all levels of walkers. Want a 2-hour, 4km walk in the Maiella? He’s got it. Feel like something more challenging, like a 7-hour, 25km walk in the Abruzzo National Park? He’s got that, too. His routes are all graded for difficulty (1= easy, 3= difficult) and vary from gentle easy going strolls to serious mountain expeditions. Most start and end in a village with at least a bar and a shop. GPS coordinates are provided and CPX tracks are available to download for free through the publisher’s website.

Each walk is painstakingly outlined, mapped, and described in detail, so walkers can decide for themselves which outing is best for them. I personally am intrigued by the walk that goes from Anversa to Castrovalva — two of my favorite villages — as well as the one that takes you around the Scanno town and lake loop. I see new shoes in my future!

 

As a novice hiker, one of my favorite things about this book is the attention that Haines pays to providing what he calls, “Advice for the Trail.” He covers everything: weather, what to take, how to behave when you encounter the inevitable sheep dogs or rockfalls, and what to do in case someone in your party requires a mountain rescue. There’s even an English-Italian glossary in the back of the book, along with two pages of very useful contact information.

Stuart Haines is no stranger to Abruzzo. Walker, mountain lover, writer and more, he has been exploring the region for more than a decade and even renovated a country property with his partner in Casa La Rocca in the heart of the region. You can even stay there.

Whether you’re an experienced walker and want to see first-hand the beauty of this largely untraveled region of Abruzzo or, like me, are familiar with the region, but only through the lens of a moving vehicle, this is a great little resource to have and learn from. Abruzzo is so worth exploring, and I hope Stuart’s book will bring more people there to share its beauty.

Walking in Abruzzo: Gran Sasso, Maiella and Abruzzo National Parks, and Sirente-Velino Park
Cicerone
$27.95

March-ing In

Italy, and the spring and first love all together should suffice to make the gloomiest person happy. — Bertrand Russell

About this time every year, I start to get antsy. I drag out the suitcase and start making piles of the things I plan to bring to Italy in May, just about six weeks away. I can’t help myself. When I’m here, I miss Italy. When I’m in Italy, well . . . I’m glad I’m in Italy.

That said, some pretty amazing things are going on right here and now. Stateside. And I wanted to share them with you.

First, and maybe most important, I have successfully finished the first completed draft of my new book (working title: Becoming Italian). Some parts have already been edited about a million times, but this is the one completed manuscript that I can send to my first reader (Tim) and which I will then clean up to send to my other first reader (Sharon). Tim reads for accuracy, Sharon reads for soul. It’s a splendid combination.

Second, I was invited to be a part of the first Boston Italian Expo, coming up in April at the Dante Alighieri Society in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I’ll take any excuse to get down there, but this one is particularly meaningful. I will join a fine group of participants, Italy lovers all, who offer crafts, services, food, music, and opportunities of all kinds to people who want to learn more about — and maybe even travel to — bella italia. It’s free, so if you’re in the Boston area, come on over. Besides the expo, there are seminars, a concert, and even a chance to win a trip for two to Chianti, in Tuscany!

Finally, I had an appointment last week to talk on the phone with a writer in Abruzzo about my business, Travel Italy the Write Way. I thought it was for a story for her wonderful blog, and we had a fantastic 45-minute conversation. Then I found out she was writing the article for a major international digital newsletter (which I don’t want to jinx by naming here)! This will be terrific exposure for my growing travel business, and I couldn’t be more excited! I’ll post the link here and on Facebook when the issue has been published.

So, despite temperatures that are moving in the wrong direction again, and winds that are sometimes downright terrifying, things are definitely on the move. We did that idiotic Daylight Savings Time thing already and I actually saw two pathetic (but living) sprigs of Snowbells in the garden today, buried under two inches of damp leaves and doggie poo. Still, it’s a sign, right? Good things are on the way!

Buon viaggio!

Staying Put in Trastevere

How is it possible to say an unkind or irreverential word of Rome? The city of all time, and of all the world!  Nathaniel Hawthorne

It was time for our last two nights in Italy after an unusually long five-week stay, and we chose to spend them in Rome. I reserved a fantastic-looking, very hip apartment for us in the Trastevere section of the city and thought this would make for an excellent jumping-off point for checking out our favorite sites in Rome: Piazza del Popolo, Piazza Navona, and the Pantheon. Trouble is, the weather just didn’t cooperate. But Plan B quickly kicked in and we were delighted.

This was the fall of wind and water. Venice was experiencing an extraordinary waist-deep Aqua Alta; there were waterspouts in Puglia; tornadoes in Campania; and incredible wind everywhere. Sitting on Piazza Garibaldi in Sulmona earlier in the week, we spent the better part of an hour chasing sugar packets and plastic packet holders blowing off the café tables while we had our capuccini. We heard reports of hail in Rome when we were up in Gubbio, but figured it was just an aberration. We were wrong.

When the time came to leave, we took the local bus from Sulmona to Tiburtina Station in Rome and then caught a taxi, thanks to Tim’s clever ride app. The location of this AirBnB was incredible: in colorful Trastevere, on a quiet, upscale street, with a very cool coffee and music bar — the Big Star Pub— just around the corner. At 7:30 one morning, Tim and I and all the locals (maybe 6 of us in all) brought our coffees to the front door to watch another bout of hail pummel the streets of Rome. Walking around the Janiculum Hill (Giancolo) about an hour later, we saw a gorgeous double rainbow. Magic is everywhere if you’re open to it.

So what’s in Trastevere? A real neighborhood. It’s a little BoHo funky there across the river (tras-((across))  -tevere ((the Tiber))), with narrow streets and cafes that you’ll want to linger over, and shops that beckon. The Jewish ghetto, established in the 16thcentury and considered the most ancient in the western world, is here. A visit to the Great Synagogue is a must, as is a sampling of some of the many wonderful foods available here, especially the artichokes — unlike anything you’ve ever had in the States. Try Taverna del Ghetto or Nonna Betta, and don’t forget Forno Boccione, the amazing tiny bakery, for “Jewish pizza” (pizza ebraica) which is a sweet, not a savory, and dished out by a colorful cast of Jewish nonne.

Bernini’s Turtle Fountain is not to be missed, nor are the many churches. We literally stumbled upon San Francesco a Ripa, just a few blocks from the apartment. It started to rain and we ducked in to this welcoming building for what we thought would be 10 minutes, at most. Gregorian chants were playing as we walked around the side chapels, and then we saw it: another Bernini. This one, The Ecstasy of Saint Ludovica. An absolute stunner. We looked at all the chapels, went up to the main altar, and were about to leave when we heard an organ chord. A live organ chord. There was no leaving.

The full name of the church is the Franciscan Sanctuary of Saint Francis in Ripa. Here is where Saint Francis of Assisi lived during his visits to the Holy Father. In 2011, the Roman Province of the Minor Friars decided to emulate Francis, creating a project for homeless brothers and sisters. They also preserve a collection of books, among the oldest and most important of Rome, and a library specializing in all things Franciscan.

But back to that organ chord. At first, I could not see who was playing, and it didn’t matter. A selection of the usual church music went on for about 30 minutes, and at the end, I started to put my coat on, calmed and contemplative, when I heard the beginning of Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major. I took my coat off and sat down. Eventually, I moved to the front of the church, where it turns out Tim had been standing the whole time, to see a young man in his 20s or maybe 30s playing. We applauded (since we were the only ones there) and offered a “bravo” and “grazie,” which he nicely acknowledged. We turned to leave.

And then . . . he played the powerful opening notes of the Bach Cantata and Fugue in D Minor(you all know it) and I was floored. The sanctuary shook. I sat the heck back down. I wept. And there we sat for more than an hour while this young man played everything from Debussy, Satie, Elgar, and God Save the Queen. It turns out that his name is Ben, he speaks fluent English because he was born in Italy, but lived for a long time in Canada. Now he is back, a Jewish music student, who has permission from the Friars to play this organ whenever he wants. Magic again. I gave him my card and hope that he contacts me one day because I would love to put him on one of the two Skinner organs at our old church in Boston.

By now, it was lunch time and Tim did his trusty TripAdvisor thing and found us a little place nearby called Nannarella. There was a plastic-enclosed outdoor café, where the tablecloths were blowing like stink and the sugar packets were swirling like confetti, but this is where they seated us all. About 4 tables of us, just barely out of the maelstrom of wind and water. But a little wine does wonders, and soon we were laughing and talking with the two Australian guys at the next table and life was good. The food was terrific — we started with two orders of the artichokes — and they let us stay for hours. Every once in a while we had to rescue a red and white tablecloth from the floor and anchor it again with ashtrays and olive oil bottles, but it became part of the shared experience.

After lunch (by now it was about 4:00) we started for home and stumbled upon another church: the Basilica di Santa Maria in Trastevere, considered by many to be the first Christian place of worship in all of Rome and quite possibly the first to be dedicated to Mary, mother of Jesus. It features some incredible Cavallini mosaics as well as architectural elements from the Fourth Century, the 12th Century, and columns reputed to be from the Baths of Caracalla. The angels on the ceiling are like nothing I’ve ever seen before.

These churches, which bookmarked our wild lunch and musical tour, are just two of a bevy of gorgeous and historic churches to be found in Trastevere. On our way home, we grabbed a nice bottle of wine and some cheese and veggies and stayed in the for the night, listening to the life howling around outside our door. It was good to be home.

Buon viaggio!

P.S. If you’d like a 3-minute view (badly done, on my iPhone) of the Pachelbel experience, please tell me in the comments section and I’ll send it along. It was too big a file for this post.

Italian Tours

Tours for people who don’t like tours.

Italian Tours

Led by author and blogger Linda Dini Jenkins and her husband, Tim, Travel Italy the Write Way tours are small group, intimate experiences where the locals take the lead. Linda and Tim have forged strong relationships with winery owners, cheese and olive oil producers, chefs, hoteliers, ex-pats and others who, together, will give you an experience you’ll never forget. LEARN MORE…

Italian Vacation Rental

Your home away from home.

Italian Vacation Rental Abruzzo

If you’re looking for an exceptional self-catering experience, consider Casa Linda in the heart of old Sulmona, one of the most beautiful small cities in Abruzzo. Less than two hours from Rome’s Fiumicino airport, Sulmona has everything you need for a relaxing holiday. It’s also close to the beach and skiing/hiking areas. Casa Linda is a charming, well-appointed apartment, lovingly restored by one of the area’s preeminent architects, just steps from the Cathedral of San Panfilo at the edge of the Villa Communale (city park). LEARN MORE…

Books & Writing

Dream. Travel. Write.

Writing has long been Linda’s passion, and she started writing about Italy nearly 20 years ago. Travel Italy the Write Way combines her love for Italy with her love for travel writing, blogging, and finding new ways to tell about the experience of travel in both prose and poetry.

Even if you can’t travel with her in person just yet:

International Travel Writers Alliance

Recent Comments

Archives

We look forward to hearing from you!

Contact Us

FROM THE BLOG

November 1 is Reclamation Day

There was only one sign for pumpkin spice anything, and it was at the train station in Rome. Starbucks, of course, and my apologies to all who love the fall-themed brew. But then there was the Trick or Treat sign on the Irish pub (!) in my Italian town of Sulmona. It was jarring. Halloween hasn’t yet come to Italy in a big way, and that’s fine with me. Call me a grump. Because the rest of the year (as most of you know) I live in Salem, Massachusetts where, over the past 20 years, Halloween starts in early September and runs through mid-November. The crowds are staggering – nearly one million people come into town on Halloween weekend alone.…

Copyright © 2020 Linda Dini Jenkins.
All Rights Reserved.

Travel Italy the Write Way is a subsidiary of Travel the Write Way, LLC

Photos by Linda Dini Jenkins and Valerie Raccuglia

WEBSITE DESIGNER OUTBOX ONLINE