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Dear Family & Friends,

26 Dec

On Monday I was a little surprised to find it was Christmas week already. We had the usual advance warning of the Thanksgiving celebration, but

The Galleria on Via del Corso.

The Galleria on Via del Corso.

that was a false start: the “season” doesn’t kick off in Italy until L’immacolata, December 8, the celebration of the Immaculate Conception. The season does not end at midnight on December 31. Rather, the holiday season lasts until Epiphany, January 6.

In the U.S. we are bombarded with Christmas music beginning at Halloween. Here, the evidence of the coming holiday is a little more subtle. Decorations start going up in early

3 years ago, the lights on Via del Corso celebrated Italy's 150th year with red, white & green lights. This year, a rainbow.

3 years ago, the lights on Via del Corso celebrated Italy’s 150th year with red, white & green lights. This year, a rainbow.

December, but the majority are not illuminated until the 8th.  One barely hears a Christmas Carol outside of a concert or church venue until this very week of Christmas. The music continues to be part of the background until Epiphany. The lack of Christmas music early in the month is almost profound. In fact, less than two weeks ago I was having my nails done and listening to old Beach Boys and other seasonally non-specific American music (very popular here at all times of the year). While shopping at a major department store on the 14th we saw lots of decorations and holiday merchandise, but no seasonal soundtrack. Odd but appealing, this absence of public holiday music made it more fun to listen to our collection of 752 holiday songs on iTunes.

This priceless statue by Giambologna is in the U.S. Embassy. Here she stands amidst a display of poinsettias that only serve to make her more beautiful.

This priceless statue, Venus After the Bath,  by Giambologna is in the U.S. Embassy. Here she stands amidst a display of poinsettias that only serve to make her more beautiful.

So what did Ric and Laurel do? In the week following L’Immacolata, the Ambassador held a reception for all Embassy employees at his beautiful residence, Villa Taverna, my boss held a party at his apartment, and we went to an Advent concert at La Chiesa dei Portoghesi. This church has a fabulous organ on which an amazingly talented organist played an improvisational concert. We’ve never heard anything like it: non-traditional, more akin to a jazz session.

Seat of the Portuguese Catholic Church in Rome with an exceptional organ and organist.

Seat of the Portuguese Catholic Church in Rome with an exceptional organ and organist.

We were delighted to be invited to the Boncompangi Ludovisi home at Villa Aurora for a party on December 21, where the Prince and Princess (see Evening with an American Princess) entertained the residents of an orphanage they support.  Tucked into the evenings here-and-there, we wandered the city viewing the lights, baked Swedish Kringlor (pastries) as gifts for several people, and decorated Casa di Barton.

The magificent Villa Aurora, on a hill just a few steps off Via V. Veneto.

The magificent Villa Aurora, on a hill just a few steps off Via V. Veneto.

The Aurora Room, with it's famous fresco, and a gigantic tree.

The Aurora Room, with it’s famous fresco, and a gigantic tree.

Leo, Francesco, me and Alessandra enjoy one of the elegant salons at Villa Aurora.

Leo (back to camera), Francesco, and Alessandra – with me in the middle – enjoy one of the elegant salons at Villa Aurora.

A lot is crammed into two-and-a-half weeks from l’Immacolata to Christmas, versus the four-or-so weeks we have in the U.S. from Thanksgiving. Last-minute shopping is also a tradition of the season here as in North America. Every day beginning the 18th, the traffic became more and more intense, the horns sounding more frequently and with greater than usual annoyance. But after the usual pre-Christmas recitals, concerts, parties and receptions, almost two weeks of the holiday season remain and we take 4 holidays: Christmas, Santo Stefano (26th), New Year’s Day, and Epiphany (January 6).  Gotta love a schedule like that. Clearly there is no separation of Church and State, although Ric says that since the Carabinieri put their nativity scene outside of the station at headquarters in Parioli, that’s sufficient separation.

The tree in Palazzo Margherita, the U.S. Embassy, sparkles in red, white and blue.

The tree in Palazzo Margherita, the U.S. Embassy, sparkles in red, white and blue.

On Christmas Eve we attended an early (19:00) Mass at Santa Susanna, the seat of the American Catholic Church in Rome. Apparently Papa

This is outdoor space in 3 season, but for winter, encased in a transparent plastic "tent" heated by flaming torches.

This is outdoor space in 3 season, but for winter, encased in a transparent plastic “tent” heated by flaming torches.

Francesco’s policy of inclusion is working because lightening did not strike our Lutheran selves.  At the fashionable hour of 21:00, we took ourselves to our favorite trattoria where we have dined the last three Christmas Eves. They serve an all fish dinner, including mussels sautéed in wine (this is the restaurant where I learned to love cozze), shrimp pate, smoked salmon, marinated anchovies (yum!) and insalata al mare. That was just the antipasto course! Seafood risotto and paccheri with shellfish comprised the primi, and our entrée (secondi) was a whole steamed seabass (spigola) served with puntarelle bathed in an anchovy sauce. Two-and-a-half hours later we headed for home. Yes, we have become quite Roman in our dining hours and duration. We also ate all’aperto in that most restaurants have their outdoor tables encased in a plastic tent with heaters making it warm enough to remove your coat and be comfortable unless a high wind is blowing.

Christmas Eve by the light of the flaming heaters. The waiter took our picture.... I'd had an 18 hour day by this point. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

Christmas Eve by the light of the flaming heaters. The waiter took our picture…. I’d had an 18 hour day by this point. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

The eating must continue, of course, but we chose to forego the family tradition of Swedish plättar (pancakes) and save ourselves for Christmas Lunch, a two-hour affair at a quaint restaurant in the ghetto of Rome. All restaurants and shops are open in this quartiere on Christmas (unless it is Shabbat), making it a convivial destination with some fine options. Many Italians dine out on Christmas Day, we have found, so reservations are essential. There were quite a few people waiting hopefully for a table outside the restaurants lining Via Portico d’Ottavia. We waltzed right in at 14:00 to a fine table in the back by the garden.

We caught up with the Bartons of Omaha Christmas night, and look forward to their invasion visit in August. We also peeked in on Derek via Skype. With a few more Skype sessions planned, by the end of the season we will have seen many friends and family from afar. We will wrap up the season with a day of repose today, Santo Stefano. A wind-and-rain storm last night makes staying inside seem like the best idea. The weekend will have us wandering the streets again (have to work on Friday), but January 1 we’ll take off for Switzerland, a mutual gift to each other: Winter Hiking in the Berner Oberland. I’ll be sure to post news of our trip.

Many thanks for cards, e-cards and various greetings sent our way. However you choose to celebrate, we wish you the very best! Buon Natale, Felice 2014, e tanti tanti auguri!

In a piazza, a forest of Christmas trees surrounds a little cabin where Babbo Natale hears the wishes of the bambini.

In a piazza, a forest of Christmas trees surrounds a little cabin where Babbo Natale hears the wishes of the bambini.

One of Princess Rita's bichon frises dresses for the occasion.

One of Princess Rita’s bichon frises dresses for the occasion.

Kilograms, centigrade and convection, Oh My!

30 Nov

I’ve prepared a lot of turkeys. A conservative estimate would be that I have prepared 40 over the course of about 36 years. My first was when I was in my mid-twenties and decided I had to be the hostess for Thanksgiving and my mom had to help. I was terrified of ruining the Butterball. The years we did not prepare a turkey for Thanksgiving at home I surely made one for Christmas or sometime during the autumn.  And I graduated over the years from frozen (Norbest with a built-in timer!) to all-natural farm-raised turkeys from an organic store. But the most satisfying turkey-venture was this year, in Rome.

Leonardo reads the menu - in English and Italian - as we start with the soup.

Leonardo reads the menu – in English and Italian – as we start with the soup.

Our friends, Alessandra and Francesco, invited us to prepare the feast in their beautiful apartment. They would provide the turkey and wine while Ric and I would prepare the contorni (side dishes). Knowing they had an Italian oven, which are smaller than most we have in the U.S., and since this type of meal is a bit unusual in Italy, we gathered over supper the Friday before Thanksgiving to plan our attack. I warned them that turkey takes time: I will be in your kitchen much of the day.  Since Thursday was a work-and-school day here for all but employees of the American Embassy, I worried it might be an imposition. But Ale and Francesco were undeterred and in fact invited a crowd to experience the American feast.  There would be 11 Italians at the table, plus Ric and I. We decided that if it would fit in their oven, a 7 kilogram turkey would be a nice size, about 15 pounds U.S. Their friend Stefania would provide dessert.

Beautiful butternut squash and fresh sage on the way to making a velvety soup.

Beautiful butternut squash and fresh sage on the way to making a velvety soup.

Early Thursday we headed out to pick up artisan bread for the dressing and fresh green beans, managing to get in a 6 km walk in advance of the feast.  While we were inhaling the glorious smells at Roscioli, Francesco called and said “You need to talk to Ale. She has the turkey and it’s big.” Ale confirmed: her butcher has provided an 8 kg (17 pound) hen turkey and the butcher says it will take 5 hours to cook. Can we come earlier to start the cooking?

Ale's elegant tableware from Castelli, famous for ceramics.

Ale’s elegant tableware from Castelli, famous for ceramics.

We planned to serve the soup at 19:30 and the main course about 20:30, so we figured the bird needed to go in the oven about 16:30, if it weighed 7 kg. Now we had 8 kg to deal with, and (surprise!) a convection oven, which changes the cooking game considerably, plus the butcher’s recommendation to cook it in a low oven for 5 hours. Yikes!  Arriving about 14:45, Ric set to chopping herbs for my herb-butter turkey recipe. By 15:20, after calculating and re-calculating cooking time and centigrade-versus-Fahrenheit, we had herb-butter under the skin and put her in the oven trussed up as tightly as we could, just managing to squeeze her into the space available.  (Ric has a wonderful little app on the tablet that does all manner of conversions since our American-system brains have to constantly deal with length, volume, temperature and distance conversions.)  With any luck, she would be done by 20:00, giving 30 minutes for “rest” and to make the final prep.

Every good dinner starts with prosecco. Rita, Valentino, Francesco, Eleonora and Nello.

Every good dinner starts with prosecco. From left, me (elbow), Rita, Valentino, Francesco, Eleonora and Nello.

Whew! Deep breath, now all we have to do is monitor, baste, add broth, and prepare the contorni. Ric is a terrific sous chef and spent the next hour carving up butternut squash for soup, peeling potatoes, and various other tasks assigned, while the kids came and went. All-in-all Alessandra, Ric and I spent a compatible couple of hours doing prep, setting the table, chatting and enjoying the time immensely. At each check on the turkey I worried it was getting too brown, but my research on roasting a turkey in a convection oven said do not cover with foil. By 17:30 I was nervous: it looked done. My brand new meat thermometer (Celsius, of course!) said it was done in most parts.  Can’t be! Two hours at 160C (325F) and it’s done!?!?!? The main event was still 3 hours off! We wanted the guests to see this magnificent beast, but how could we hold it safely not have it dried out like the scene from “Christmas Vacation?”

Ale said “We must Google it!” We typed in “how to hold a turkey safely when it’s done early.” Amazing

Eleonora, Stefania and Francesco share the cranberries

Nello, Eleonora, Stefania and Francesco

number of hits! Who knew?  Survey says: aluminum foil, low low temp (about 200F), and moisture in the pan beneath the turkey.

Can I tell you this was the most beautiful turkey I’ve ever made? And the moistest? And the best-tasting? My updated recipe for perfection at Thanksgiving = The company of people you enjoy + Natural Italian turkey + Convection oven + Creativity and a little experience with turkeys.

Ignore the goofy-looking cook and focus on the bird: perfection!! Sara clearly finds me amusing.

Ignore the goofy-looking cook and focus on the bird: perfection!! Sara clearly finds me amusing.

I think the only side dish quite familiar to the guests was mashed potatoes. Gravy is not normally made in Italy, nor dressing/stuffing as we do in the U.S. (mine is made with sausage, apples and raisins). We managed to acquire fresh whole cranberries (shipped in from Massachusetts)  and made sweet potatoes with gorgonzola.  Stefania’s tarte tartin and homemade whoopee pies made for a festive and tasty finish.  See the whole menu here. Multiple portions were consumed and even the kids were adventurous in trying foods they’d not seen before. No one seemed to miss pasta.

Everyone who has prepared a Thanksgiving or Christmas turkey dinner knows that the final prep is chaotic. Getting stuffing, Potatoes, sweet potatoes, veg, gravy and turkey all on the table at the same time. Ronnie is a blur as  he speeds to help!

Everyone who has prepared a  big turkey dinner knows that the final prep is chaotic, getting stuffing, potatoes, sweet potatoes, veg, gravy and turkey all on the table at the same time. Ronnie is a blur as he speeds to help. Thanks to Ronnie, Ric was off clean-up duty for a change.

Dinner went off without a hitch. Except as usual I forgot something, sending the sweet potatoes to the table sans the candied pecans on top, and I forgot the peperoncini for the green beans. (I think I am the only one that noticed.)

Last year, our first Thanksgiving in Italy, we knew we would really miss the large crowd we tended to gather around our table in Portland, so we celebrated in a totally non-traditional manner. This year we had a memorable, wonderful day thanks to Alessandra, Francesco, their family and friends. We are very grateful to have been able to share the traditions and spend our holiday with them, and to them for opening their home and kitchen to the American Invasion.

I am so getting a convection oven the next time we need to buy an appliance.

Thanksgiving green beans with red peppers and American bacon. Not your mother's green bean casserole.

Thanksgiving green beans with red peppers and American bacon. Not your mother’s green bean casserole.

I ragazzi doing what kids usually do after dinner.

Giordano, Leonardo, Giuseppe and Sara, doing what kids usually do after dinner.

Giuseppe and Giordano at table - even the kids liked the soup!

Giuseppe and Giordano at table – even the kids liked the soup!

Me with my friend and Italian teacher, Eleonora.

Me with my friend and Italian teacher, Eleonora.

Kitchen action stops fo a quick pre-dinner drink. Ale, Eleonora., Francesco and me.

Kitchen action stops fo a quick pre-dinner drink. Ale, Eleonora, Francesco and me.

\

Up one side and down the other

15 Oct

Saturday it was supposed to rain, a rather large disappointment when one is in the Cinque Terre as the major activities here are out-of-doors.  Luckily the day dawned partly cloudy and we refused to believe the forecast pushed out to our cell phones.

The path begins climbing gently from Monterosso al Mare, but the climbing continues for 2 km.

The path begins climbing gently from Monterosso al Mare, but the climbing continues for 2 km.

The Sentiero Azzuro or “Trail No. 2” is still closed in some sections, plus it is the trail most tourists gravitate to, so we headed in another direction, north out of Monterosso al Mare to the town of Levanto.  As we were staying in Manarola, we had to take a train to Monterosso, about an 11 minute ride. Any adventure that begins with a train ride scores extra points with Ric.

Train station with a view, and Ric.

Train station with a view, and Ric.

The fact that we also started the day with freshly-baked, flaky pastries filled with chocolate,  still warm from the oven… well, need I say more? Yes, I must say more, because we topped off with a torta di noci e marmelada di albicocchi (pie-like pastry with walnuts and apricot jam) before leaving Monterosso. SIGH, I love vacation.

Tower above Monterosso, along the path. A residence? A hotel? Non lo so....

Tower above Monterosso, along the path. A residence? A hotel? Non lo so….

We enjoyed almost complete solitude for the first 2 kilometers of the hike, only encountering three people.  This was a tough trail with steep and unending stairs placed into the hill.  Some scrambling was required where hard rock refused to yield to trail building.

Unending stairs.

Unending stairs.

By now the path is steeper. Ric says try not to show how much he is sweating.

By now the path is steeper. Ric says try not to show how much he is sweating.

Monterosso from above.

Monterosso from above.

After an hour of constant uphill trekking we reached the ruins of the Eremo di Sant’Antonio, a 13th century monastic hermitage at Punto MescoStupendissimo!

Eremo di Sant'Antonio. Imagine buidlng this in the middle ages?

Eremo di Sant’Antonio. Imagine building this in the middle ages?

Ruins of Sant'Antonio

Ruins of Sant’Antonio (Not me! The rock walls!)

Three years ago, in October 2010, we first traveled to Italy and were in the Cinque Terre about this time. We were daunted by the 60-or-so stairs we had to climb to our room in Vernazza! We hiked a portion of the Sentiero Azzuro that trip but nothing nearly so ambitious as this 10 km hike-and-scramble. Now, with a level of fitness we never thought we could achieve, it was a challenge but one we knew we could accomplish.

On the way down, different surfaces through a piney and then deciduous wood.

On the way down, different surfaces through a piney and then deciduous wood.

This is not an environment of “groomed” trails and sometimes it was difficult to tell where the trail was.

At a junction we couldn't decide if this was a stream bed or a path.... The path was in fact hidden to the right and then merged into he stream bed.

At a junction we couldn’t decide if this was a stream bed or a path…. The path was in fact hidden to the right and then merged into he stream bed.

Where's the path? This rock formation presented right in the middle of the path. Where to go? Upon scrutiny, there was a "path" to the right...sort of.

Where’s the path? This rock formation presented right in the middle of the path. Where to go? Upon scrutiny, there was a “path” to the right…sort of.

From Punto Mesco most of the 2.5 hours was in descent, but the extent of trail maintenance seemed to be clearing off fallen trees. Not that it was a bad trail, but in some places it required some creativity in finding the best path. We encountered a number of people hiking up from Levanto, intent on reaching Monterosso.  Looking back at our route, we were happy we hiked Monterosso to Levanto, and equally happy we started quite early as we hit Levanto at just the right time for lunch, allowing us to call this hike yet another Path to Lunch.  And how nice is it to start with pastry and end with wine?

How cute is this? On the outskirts of Levanto, a little cat-feeding station protected by an umbrella.

How cute is this? On the outskirts of Levanto, a little cat-feeding station protected by an umbrella.

Boardwalk in Levanto

Boardwalk in Levanto

It was windy that day.

It was windy that day.

Familiar yet foreign

30 Jul

30 July 2013.

I love to experience new places. I love planning the route, finding lodging, determining what-to-do and what-to-see, and of course I love

View across the Alpe di Siusi from the Mont Seuc lift area. This is the view that made me fall in love with the area.

View across the Alpe di Siusi from the Mont Seuc lift area. This is the view that made me fall in love with the area.

the going and doing. (Ric likes the going and doing. Lucky for me he plays along with my excessive need to plan.)  We even enjoy getting a little lost as there is no better way to really experience a new place. But there is something about going back to a place we’ve been before that is also compelling.

When you enter a town you’ve visited before, familiarity envelopes you like a hug from a friend. We found this to be so true in Oregon where we visited Cannon Beach twice each year.  Knowing the restaurants and the best place for coffee and Danish at 7:00AM when you come off a beach walk at dawn; knowing how the tides affect the beach and when is the best time to explore the tide pools: These things made for a relaxing mini-vacation every time we went to CB.

If you follow this blog you know we get out and see a lot of new places, but we also like the repeats. We hardly need a map in Venice after three trips there, but we always find new things to do there, like our Winter Break in Venice.

Ortisei river view

Colorful little Ortisei sits alongside a mountain stream.

In the spirit of embracing an area we’ve visited before but expanding our knowledge and enjoyment, we returned to the Val Gardena and the little town of Ortisei. (See last year’s trip to the Val Gardena here.)

Leaving the Alpe di Siusi after two nights, we transferred to Ortisei. Although the two are but a few kilometers apart as the crow flies, it took us about three hours to make our way because the biggest part of the journey is descending from the Alpe di Siusi to the valley, about 600 meters, just about 2000 feet.  There are no direct routes, especially without a car.  From our hotel at Saltria we took a bus to the lift, made our way via the gondola lift down from Compatsch to Siusi, then another bus to Ortisei with some waiting required. In fact, last year we took a different gondola up to the Alpe from Ortisei and hiked to Saltria faster than we were able to go down via this year’s three-part public transportation journey necessitated by luggage.

A walking path runs between the 3 villages of the Val Gardena.

A walking path runs between the 3 villages of the Val Gardena.

This time we knew where to get off the bus so we could enjoy the beautiful ride from Siusi to Ortisei. This time we knew exactly where to find our hotel, Hotel Garni Walter, up a steep street just across the river. No orientation, no navigation required. We were warmly greeted by Sylvia and Georg who remembered us from last year. The familiarity with little Ortisei meant we could get to new adventures quickly: Three days of hiking high above the Val Gardena. There is something for every ability level here: easy walks on wide paths, moderately challenging gains (and losses) in altitude, bike trails around jagged peaks, as well as technically challenging routes that require endurance and some mountaineering skills. They are accessed by various lifts such as a funicular to Raciesa, a two-part gondola to Seceda, and various other lifts up-and-down the valley.

We were thrilled to find ourselves virtually alone at Raciesa  one morning at 8:45, having caught the first funicular up

Ric, high above the Val Gardena. In the distance, across the valley, is the Alpe di Diusi, the meadow we hiked earlier in the week.

Ric, high above the Val Gardena. In the distance, across the valley, is the Alpe di Siusi, the meadow we hiked earlier in the week.

the mountain. After a quick shot of espresso taken with a fabulous view, we set off toward Rifugio Raciesa and a loop hike, on a wide and well-groomed path. (For the record and those who want to go: trails 35 & 10.) After the rifugio the trail changed to a rocky climb, and looking back we started to see more people on the initial approach to the rifugio. We clamored up to Santa Croce and were rewarded with numbingly beautiful views, not too many people. But as we started back down, trail 35 started to look like an expressway at rush hour. In pairs and groups, people were thronging to Rifugio Reciesa. Descending through high-alpine meadow, we congratulated ourselves on starting early, but fought our way back along the trail against the incoming swarm on the easy part of the trail. People with trekking equipment were outnumbered by grandparents and moms pushing strollers. The hordes are easily escaped by taking a challenging route and there was a fine lunch to be had at a rifugio, served German-style with a nice cold Radler, a beer and lemonade concoction we have come to enjoy.

By late morning, there was quite a crowd at this refugio.  Past this point the trail got steeper and fewer marched on.

By late morning, there was quite a crowd at this refugio. Past this point the trail got steeper and fewer marched on.

Another day we went to Seceda, one of the highest cableway terminations at 2518 meters (just under 8300 feet). A magnificent cloud free and chilly morning quickly warmed as the sun rose. This hike was challenging in that we encountered narrow trails, inset with concrete forms, meant to not only define the trail but to protect the meadow. A misstep would mean rolling down a steep meadow for 600-1000 feet. Other trails were rocky and slippery: not the super-highway of the prior day. (And no baby strollers!) Still the beauty was awe-inspiring as we made our way to Rifugio Firenze (trail 1) and on to the lift at Col Raiser (trail 4). Again herds of cows, tiny mountain barns, a distant church, and rifugi dotted the landscape backed by majestic rock formations and mountain peaks. Luckily we choose this direction as it was mostly downhill. Folks hiking toward us, having ascended at Col Raiser, were quite out-of-breath from the almost constant uphill trudge of 2 ½ hours. Lunch at Rifugio Odles (milk fresh daily from their own cows!) was restorative, including another lovely Radler.

Mountain rifugio in the Dolomites

Site of another mountain lunch: tagliatelle with fresh mushrooms and a grilled vegetable platter. Try to find that on the trail in Oregon.

Our final day we succumbed to the lure of the Alpe di Siusi again, taking a lift that is practically in the back yard of our hotel. We’ve had quite a work out for four days, so opted for a less-demanding route with slightly less elevation. As we encountered cows, horses, and a number of people making hay in the morning sun, Ric commented that we were, in actuality, hiking in farmland. However this “farmland” sits about a mile high, and is ringed with mountains, a far cry from the fields of North Dakota.

I started out talking about going back to familiar places, that although familiar you can find new adventures. Clearly we enjoyed our return to the Alpe di Siusi and the Val Gardena, and we know we will be back again.  When you hike in most places – at least those we have hiked and we are especially familiar with the Pacific Northwest and to some degree Hawaii – you start at one place and end at another, seeing only the path in front of you and the vistas as you pass them. Here we encountered a different phenomenon. Because of the broad vistas across the meadows, often we could see where we had been hours ago, or even days ago. At Col Raiser we could see back to

Ric said we were hiking in "farm country."

Ric said we were hiking in “farm country.”

where we had started 3 hours prior. From our hike through “farm country” we could see a rifugio far across the Alpe that we’d visited 4 days ago. This ability to see the landscape was almost as though we were looking at a map. And yet what seemed so vast was really a speck on the map of this great region, the Trento-Alto Adige, in this beautiful Italy.

Laying right across the path, ambivalent to the parade of hikers passing by.

Laying right across the path, ambivalent to the parade of hikers passing by.

View of the Dolomites

From a tiny rifugio with goats and bunnies, we had a fine view down the meadow.

As we hiked down the meadow, we saw this group hiking out above us. Glad we were going another direction!

As we hiked down the meadow, we saw this group hiking out above us. Glad we were going another direction!

Luckily we walked down the mountain. Our ultimate destination is in sight at the end of the green area, a hotel on top of a cliff, but far below where we started the hike. We could see the starting point from the end, after 2+ hours of hiking.

Luckily we walked down the mountain. Our ultimate destination is in sight at the end of the green area, a hotel on top of a cliff, but far below where we started the hike. We could see the starting point from the end, after 2+ hours of hiking.

Across the delicate meadow "they" laid these concrete forms as a path, protecting the meadow from trampling and preserving the path. In some places the drop off below this "trail" was quite steep. One misstep and you'd roll for hundreds of feet.

Across the delicate meadow “they” laid these concrete forms as a path, protecting the meadow from trampling and preserving the path. In some places the drop off below this “trail” was quite steep. One misstep and you’d roll for hundreds of feet.

View from Seceda, about 8500 feet high.

View from Seceda, about 8300 feet high.

Away from it all

8 Jul

People planning a visit to Italy often ask how to get away from it all: How to get off that proverbial beaten track, or through Rick Steves’ magical back door. They want to see places without so many tours and tour groups. We’ve found some less-visited spots in Rome (Beyond il Colosseo) but I daresay we really had a true escape in Abruzzo.

A rustic interior, furnished as it might have been hundreds of years ago.

A rustic interior, furnished as it might have been hundreds of years ago.

July 4 we headed out for Santo Stefano di Sessanio on the recommendation of Italian friends. “One night” they said. “You have to stay here one night.” The whole town is under renovation having been literally abandoned after WWII. The hotel is called Albergo Diffuso  because the rooms are scattered about in former residences. Peace reigns supreme with quaint streets, simple cuisine, and rustic but comfortable accommodations. As in much of Italy, building code is not what one might expect in North America. Case in point, the “stairway” to the bedroom portion of our suite was really more of a ladder, reminiscent of something one would find leading to the hayloft in a barn.  We loved the rustic simplicity combined with modern conveniences: candlelight, energy-saving switches, but a soaking tub and bath fixtures to rival many hotels. All surrounded by this charming, under-renovation village. Our rate included a suite, dinner, breakfast and a picnic basket to take away with us for lunch on the road the next day. English spoken? Some, yes, especially by the hotel staff; not so much in the shops or restaurants. Other guests were Italian. We met only one American couple passing through and a Canadian couple

currently living in Pescara. Here are a few more pictures from the hotel and town of Santo Stefano.

Deep soaking tub. Clearly not the type of plumbing one had 500 years ago.

Deep soaking tub. Clearly not the type of plumbing one had 500 years ago.

Ladder to our comfortable bedroom. one of many things I love about Italy. In North America building codes would never let this fly.

Ladder to our comfortable bedroom. One of many things I love about Italy: In North America building codes would never let this fly.

Ric in our rustic bedroom. A terrific night's sleep awaited us.

Ric in our rustic bedroom. A terrific night’s sleep awaited us.

One of the artigianale shops in Santo Stefano.

One of the artisanal shops in Santo Stefano.

What has been restored is picturesque. With all the work in progress, it will become even more lovely as it is restored.

What has been restored is picturesque. With all the work in progress, it will become even more lovely as it is restored.

For entertainment and exercise, we made our way to the rocca, or fortress, above Calascio, just down the road a piece. Situated at 1460m (4790 feet), we ascended on foot from the village of Calascio, about 820 feet of gain.  While much of the walk was on a paved road, the last bit was a scramble over rocks that afforded an unparalleled view of the castle, and just might have worked off the lunch Geppetto served us at his bettola (in English we’d say dive but it really was a cute little café).  We were virtually alone at the rocca. A few people came by car to the rifugio just below the rocca and walked up the last little bit, but we were the only ones who made the entire trek, which afforded us an ever-changing view of the landscape.

The rocca (fortress) above Calascio, as seen from about 820 feet below.

The rocca (fortress) above Calascio, as seen from about 820 feet below.

On our hike up to the rocca, the view from just above the village of Calascio.

On our hike up to the rocca, the view from just above the village of Calascio.

Getting closer as we climb, the size of the fortress is impressive.

Getting closer as we climb, the size of the fortress is impressive.

The last bit is a scramble over narrow trails and rocks.

The last bit is a scramble over narrow trails and rocks.

Of course such an outing demanded an Abruzzese dinner, which was served in what we Americans might call a tavern, reminiscent of pioneer days. Dining is hearty in this region: lamb, porchetta, roasted potatoes, strong cheeses. At night there was no noise, no light. We slept for 9 hours, something we never do in Rome.

Old fireplace in the "tavern" where one finds Abruzzese cuisine.

Old fireplace in the “tavern” where one finds Abruzzese cuisine.

Breakfast room, rustic and cozy.

Breakfast room, rustic and cozy.

Elegantly packed by the hotel, enjoyed along the roadside in Abruzzo.

Elegantly packed by the hotel, enjoyed along the roadside in Abruzzo.

We moved on to Castelli, but I’ll save that for a following post.