Initially when we discussed going to Italy our only thought was that we wanted see the Southern part with no exact idea of where we go. We have a good friend in Vernon whose nephew, Renato, lives for part of the year in a little village in Calabria. Last Spring we met Renato and his bride, Karri, at their wedding that we helped cater. We told them that we'd be in Italy and they invited us to come visit them. Be careful if you invite us, because we will come...... We emailed Renato and Karri and told them our timing and asked if they'd be there at that time. They replied from their car saying that they were on their way to Rome and then on to the Formula 3 race circuit, that they work on. They encouraged us to go a stay at their home for as long as we wanted. So our decision was made - we booked our flight to Lamezia in Calabria and arranged a rental car for 10 days.
This brings us back to our early morning departure from Quarteira. Up at 6:00, a quick shower and out the door for the long walk to the bus station. After a 4 hour bus ride to Lisbon we took a cab to the airport and arrived with over 2 hours to spare before our flight to Rome, where we'd have a quick turnover, 45 minutes, to catch our plane to Lamezia. At the TAP (Portuguese Airlines) check-in Robert joked with the very efficient young man that he'd like a ticket to wherever they were sending his bag. (sense of doom......) With all the time in the world we wandered through the Lisbon airport and up to the departure lounge watching the board for loading info. That information just didn't show up, we waited and waited - as did all the other's on the flight to Rome. Finally after about an hour's delay we were called to board the plane. Of course we missed our connection but on arrival in Rome we were met by a representative who quickly took us to a check-in counter and then to the boarding gate for the next flight. As luck would have it this flight was also late so when we finally arrived in Lamezia it was past 11:00 pm. Robert hurried out to get the car and I waited for the bags. You guessed it - Robert's bag did not show up! There I was standing all alone in the arrivals terminal, the baggage carousel had stopped turning and I only had one bag. I won't go on much more because it is still pretty painful, just a couple of details - Robert was charged and extra 31 euros because HE arrived after the car rental agency after it had closed so they had to have someone wait, and his bag finally caught up with us 5 days later.
We had travelled for well over 18 hours so on our way up the coast we stopped at a little hotel named "Canada Hotel", at that point it seemed like a sign from the gods, so at about 1:00 pm we entered our room. It had maple leafs everywhere! Actually the whole hotel had maple leafs everywhere - in the wood work, in the tiles, cut into the railings on the decks, a little over the top really. Turns out our hosts had spent a few years in Thunder Bay and had returned with their fortune to open this hotel that in spite of all the maple leafs was not very successful. I personally think their lack of clients is due to the fact that the breakfast they included in the room price consisted of one croissant and an tiny, no minuscule, amount of espresso coffee, I believe they made one coffee and poured it into 2 cups resulting in a couple of tiny sips each. No matter, we were in Italy and we were not going to let a bumpy start ruin our time there.
I forgot to mention the best thing to happen at the airport - we rented the cutest car in existence - a Fiat 500! My new favourite car! I was happy, even if Robert got to do all the driving! So - we left the Canada Hotel and after a few wrong turns we found our way to the amazing old hilltop village of Savuto where we would spend the next 10 days. Renato and Karri's house is a cute little place with 3 rooms over 3 levels, each with it's own outside entrance. Top floor with the door at the main street level is the bedroom, down a little spiral staircase is the living room and then down a "cave" like set of stairs curving through the rock is the kitchen and bathroom. The door from the kitchen looks out over a valley of olive trees with the Tyrrhenian Sea in the distance. It was peaceful and so beautiful. The seaside and a town called Campora San Giovanni were just a short 10 minute drive away, once we figured out the maze of roads. We did venture to some of the towns in the area but mostly we just wanted to enjoy Savuto, we spent a lot of time exploring the village and getting to know the wonderful people who live there.
Our neighbour and cousin to Renato, Tonina, spoke very good English and was a great help in all things. Her father, Michael, owned the grocery store where we bought most of our food. He also has an olive grove from which he produces amazing organic olive oil. On our first visit to his store he took Robert down to a storage area that holds two 3,000 litre vats of olive oil, for a paltry 5 euros decanted a litre of liquid delight. YUM!
A very guilty pleasure that Tonina introduced us to was a Gelato bar in the city of Amantea just up the coast. Of course the Gelateria was owned by a friend of hers - it seemed that everyone was her friend! She recommended that we visit the centro storico (historical centre) of Amantea and include a stop for pistachio gelato. On arriving we explained to the owner that we were "amici Tonina" (bad Italian for friend of Tonina), he exclaimed "Tonina Savuto!" So we had an understanding. He exclaimed that the pistachio was the best! and it was just that! There was a lot of exclaiming! When we finished our gelato he asked if we wanted the orange chocolate gelato in a brioche - really! There was no way that we could eat anymore so sadly we had to pass. When we got back to Savuto Tonina asked if we had had our gelato in a brioche and was aghast that we had missed out on the perfect "ice cream sandwich". That meant of course that we had to make another trip to Amantea because one would not want to miss out, would one? Okay, I know I've told you about some great things we've eaten on this trip, but without a doubt, this amazing gelato served in a light, sweet brioche is worth the price of a ticket to this part of Italy - no exaggeration!
Calabria is mostly an undiscovered gem. The coast is every bit as amazing as Amalfi, but much less treacherous to drive, the beaches stretch for miles with lovely coastal villages that are a bit touristy but not to the extreme. The food is beyond good, so much of it is locally and organically produced. We found a little restaurant in Campora that is run by a family who have an Agritourismo. The chef creates amazing dishes using only local food and his wife serves his creations to the happy customers. We first went there on a recommendation from a fellow who worked in a store where we bought a GPS. A four course meal with wine, fruit, and aperitif for the two of us was 40 euros. We were so impressed with the food that we invited Tonina and her husband Giovanni (Johnny) to join us a few nights later. After a huge meal Johnny insisted on taking us to Amantea, you guessed it, to the Gelateria! Three of us enjoyed a glass of Grappa and Tonina had gelato in a croissant - another remarkable treat. What a great evening we had sitting outside at a little sidewalk table next to a narrow street that even at midnight was busy with pedestrians and cars. The air was calm and warm but lively with conversations from the other tables. Ahh! Life in Italy. Hard to beat.
A real highlight for us was a visit we were fortunate to make to the neighbouring village of Cleto to tour its 15 century medieval castle. Our friend from Vernon, Mauro, who grew up in the area, made arrangements with his friend, Antonio who is the city administrator of Cleto, to take us to the castle. It's quite cute how it all came to pass. One morning we had decided to walk the 5 kilometres to Cleto to see the castle. On the way a car passed us, stopped and backed up, a man got out, walked up to us and asked "Mr. Robert?" It was Antonio and he was on his was to Savuto to make arrangements with us to go to the castle that evening as he said it was too hot to go during the day. He picked us up as arranged and we also invited a man named Franco who spoke some English to join us. From the parking lot it was a hot, long steep climb up to the castle. It has undergone a 4 million euro restoration that is still not complete, but of course the money has run out. As it stands, it is not safe for regular viewing, but it is a splendid castle and we are so fortunate to have had the opportunity to view it with someone as knowledgeable as Antonio.
Between Tonina's and our house is the home of Zia (Auntie) Maria. She is a tiny little 78-year old dynamo that we met early on and developed a delightful friendship with, even though our conversations were through very bad Italian on our part, and much hand waving on hers. Both she and Tonina spoiled us with daily treats delivered to our back door. We felt loved.
On our first walk through the village we met a lady named Sabrina. She's originally from Poland, married a man from Savuto and has been in the village for 28 years; she is still called "Sabrina Polack". No disrespect really, just a descriptive. Twice she made us coffee and visited with us in the little square in front of her home.
Mauro contacted the people he knows in the village to make other arrangements for us. One day we were taken to see the church by the young woman who takes care of all things not priestly. She told us about their statue of the Virgin with a raised baton - she is Modonna della Mazzarella and she uses her club to chase out evil spirits. The little church shares a priest with Cleto and on Sunday morning the bells ring out across the valley; a charming way to awaken.
It was our pleasure to join a group of people in the town square every evening. The group consisted of Tonina, Zia Maria, a couple of sisters who come every summer to be with their aged mother. One sister lives in the north - she and her husband stay for about 5 months every year, and the younger sister (my age) from Ontario who comes for 3 months. Others from the village came and went but this was our main group, we met just as the sun began to sink into the sea and we chatted and laughed until the sisters (with the husband in tow) left to be sure that Mama was settled for the night, and then those of us remaining would eventually say "Buonanotte". As our time went on we all became very fond of each other. There were tears and hugs when all to soon it was time to say goodbye to those wonderful people and their beautiful village. I believe we will return.
Next edition - Britain!
Thursday, July 5, 2012
After Spain - Portugal
We are near the end of our journey and I have been negligent about writing for the last number of weeks. Not sure why, it just happened that way. I'll try to remember the highlights of our time in Portugal, Italy, England and finally Scotland and share them with you.
We left a cool and rainy Santiago on May 22 for Porto, Portugal. About 4 hours later we arrived in not only another country, but a totally different climate! The sun was shining and it was hot! We were dropped in the centre of the new town so oriented ourselves and found a nice little hotel close to the old town. First on the agenda was a barber to shave Robert's beard that he grew on the Camino. Right next door to the hotel was a barber shop that is caught in a time warp. The barber, Branco, has been in the same location for 57 years and I believe nothing has been updated in all that time. Robert settled in to the ancient chair and was soon back to his handsome self! We were ready for a quiet evening and nice dinner. The restaurant we decided on was recommended by the lady at the hotel desk, I believe they are connected somehow, but that doesn't matter because the meal we enjoyed was excellent. Robert had what he claims was one of the best steaks he's ever eaten and I enjoyed a lovely piece of salt cod. It's been a while so I can't remember all the trimmings, but the meal was exceptional so worth mentioning. We took a stroll down some streets lined with lovely old buildings heading towards the water front. Along the water front we looked across the Douro river at the "caves" or warehouses of the many wineries from the Douro provinces that produce Port wine. The river has traditionally been the highway along which Port wine has been shipped to the rest of the world. Although it doesn't look like it from where we were, the warehouses are actually in a different city called Vila Nova de Gaia that is accessed by huge high bridges across the Douro. Late the next afternoon we took the metro across the bridge and then a funicular down to the river level and walked to the Quevedo Winery for a tour and tasting. We were welcomed by a young man whose family owns the winery. His passion for the wine and for the work being done to improve the storage and tasting area made our time with him very pleasant. We purchased a 1992 Colheita that has arrived back in Canada safely. We may have to run a lottery to determine who we share it with!
After leaving the warehouse area we walked along the river bank and watched the early evening activities - young lovers strolling hand in hand, families with their children at the playgrounds, and a number of rowing sculls out on the river. There were many of restaurants and bars along the river as well and since it was close to dinner time we were interested in finding a place to eat. We stopped to watch some rowers carrying their boat to the water and heard some lovely music coming from above boat bay. Turns out there was a bar above the rowing club so we wandered up the stairs and arrived at one of those magical moments that sometimes happen when you follow your instinct. There was a large bar in a dimly lit room with tables occupied by a small number of people. At the opposite end of the room on a stage were three seated musicians; one guitarist and 2 others playing mandolin type stringed instruments. Standing on the stage was a man singing in a manner that is very hard to describe. He sang a story of love, loss, heartbreak and tears - I think - he was singing in Portuguese. It was moving and mesmerizing and ever so lovely. It was our introduction to Fado a musical genre that officially dates back to the 1820's. It is characterized by mournful tunes and lyrics infused with characteristic sentiment of resignation. We loved it! In a way, for us, Porto was the best place to hear Fado because the sense of wistful sorrow that's reflected in its shabby old buildings that are from a different, more affluent time. The architecture in Porto is stunning but many of these gorgeous old places are suffering from old age and their "wrinkles" are showing. I loved Porto, the old quarter reminded me of a faded beauty queen - good bone structure, but all the makeup in the world can't hide the age. Of course there is also a vibrant new city but that is not where the soul of Porto is.
From Porto we travelled by train to Faro on the Algarve. We were picked up by Julia, the lady we rented our apartment from, and after a visit with her elderly mother we were delivered to our home away from home. The apartment was located in an area called Quarteira which is a beach resort catering to mostly English tourist. There is a marvellous beach that stretches for miles and most of it is bordered by holiday apartments, hotels and restaurants. Thankfully we were at one end of the developed area. There was a nice little bar right on the beach where most mornings we enjoyed our coffee in the sea breeze. We took many walks along the boardwalk and were glad to be there before the start of tourist season because we're pretty sure that it can get very crowded when all the hotels are full. Julia took us touring one day to a great inland village called Loule and to Faro beach, which is where the locals go. We enjoyed seeing a typical town with it's pretty white buildings and amazing tile murals, and the beach was so much nicer in many ways but especially because there was no development taking away from the natural beauty. I wish we could have spent more time there.
Our dear friends Geordie and Nigel from Vancouver stopped by to visit while on their way to Porto to walk the Portuguese Camino. We met them at the bus station in Faro on Saturday afternoon and had a short visit and drink before we had to hurry to catch last bus home at 7:30pm! They came out to see us the next day so we were able to have a nice long visit that included a bit of a walk and a late lunch. It was so nice to connect with someone from home.
We had a rather low key week in Quarteira. Since we are not really beach vacation people we only sat on the beach once, but we did enjoy lots of walks along the shore. One day we went to a big street market just a couple of kilometres down the road. It was quite overwhelming to see all the things for sale but really nothing to buy.... Still carrying those backpacks remember!
Our last night in Quarteira we asked a young man who worked in a computer store that Robert had frequented for a recommendation of a restaurant that would serve us a typical Portuguese meal. We ended up in old Quarteira at a place that served grilled chicken. We'd seen a number of restaurants all claiming to have "the best" grilled chicken; I don't know about the other places but I'm here to tell you we thoroughly enjoyed not only our meal but the whole experience. We had a delicious salad, really good french fries (we'd kind of given up on the mediocre fries we'd been served most places), and the chicken was fantastic. I washed it all down with a San Miguel beer and Robert enjoyed the wine that was recommended by our excellent waitress. It was a good thing that we had a bit of a walk home because we had over indulged! We felt lucky to have found the old town, it gave us a better feeling for the area. Old villages are our preference over touristy beach resorts.
The next morning we were leaving early for Italy so it was home, pack and bed.
Stay tuned for our Italian experience!
We left a cool and rainy Santiago on May 22 for Porto, Portugal. About 4 hours later we arrived in not only another country, but a totally different climate! The sun was shining and it was hot! We were dropped in the centre of the new town so oriented ourselves and found a nice little hotel close to the old town. First on the agenda was a barber to shave Robert's beard that he grew on the Camino. Right next door to the hotel was a barber shop that is caught in a time warp. The barber, Branco, has been in the same location for 57 years and I believe nothing has been updated in all that time. Robert settled in to the ancient chair and was soon back to his handsome self! We were ready for a quiet evening and nice dinner. The restaurant we decided on was recommended by the lady at the hotel desk, I believe they are connected somehow, but that doesn't matter because the meal we enjoyed was excellent. Robert had what he claims was one of the best steaks he's ever eaten and I enjoyed a lovely piece of salt cod. It's been a while so I can't remember all the trimmings, but the meal was exceptional so worth mentioning. We took a stroll down some streets lined with lovely old buildings heading towards the water front. Along the water front we looked across the Douro river at the "caves" or warehouses of the many wineries from the Douro provinces that produce Port wine. The river has traditionally been the highway along which Port wine has been shipped to the rest of the world. Although it doesn't look like it from where we were, the warehouses are actually in a different city called Vila Nova de Gaia that is accessed by huge high bridges across the Douro. Late the next afternoon we took the metro across the bridge and then a funicular down to the river level and walked to the Quevedo Winery for a tour and tasting. We were welcomed by a young man whose family owns the winery. His passion for the wine and for the work being done to improve the storage and tasting area made our time with him very pleasant. We purchased a 1992 Colheita that has arrived back in Canada safely. We may have to run a lottery to determine who we share it with!
After leaving the warehouse area we walked along the river bank and watched the early evening activities - young lovers strolling hand in hand, families with their children at the playgrounds, and a number of rowing sculls out on the river. There were many of restaurants and bars along the river as well and since it was close to dinner time we were interested in finding a place to eat. We stopped to watch some rowers carrying their boat to the water and heard some lovely music coming from above boat bay. Turns out there was a bar above the rowing club so we wandered up the stairs and arrived at one of those magical moments that sometimes happen when you follow your instinct. There was a large bar in a dimly lit room with tables occupied by a small number of people. At the opposite end of the room on a stage were three seated musicians; one guitarist and 2 others playing mandolin type stringed instruments. Standing on the stage was a man singing in a manner that is very hard to describe. He sang a story of love, loss, heartbreak and tears - I think - he was singing in Portuguese. It was moving and mesmerizing and ever so lovely. It was our introduction to Fado a musical genre that officially dates back to the 1820's. It is characterized by mournful tunes and lyrics infused with characteristic sentiment of resignation. We loved it! In a way, for us, Porto was the best place to hear Fado because the sense of wistful sorrow that's reflected in its shabby old buildings that are from a different, more affluent time. The architecture in Porto is stunning but many of these gorgeous old places are suffering from old age and their "wrinkles" are showing. I loved Porto, the old quarter reminded me of a faded beauty queen - good bone structure, but all the makeup in the world can't hide the age. Of course there is also a vibrant new city but that is not where the soul of Porto is.
From Porto we travelled by train to Faro on the Algarve. We were picked up by Julia, the lady we rented our apartment from, and after a visit with her elderly mother we were delivered to our home away from home. The apartment was located in an area called Quarteira which is a beach resort catering to mostly English tourist. There is a marvellous beach that stretches for miles and most of it is bordered by holiday apartments, hotels and restaurants. Thankfully we were at one end of the developed area. There was a nice little bar right on the beach where most mornings we enjoyed our coffee in the sea breeze. We took many walks along the boardwalk and were glad to be there before the start of tourist season because we're pretty sure that it can get very crowded when all the hotels are full. Julia took us touring one day to a great inland village called Loule and to Faro beach, which is where the locals go. We enjoyed seeing a typical town with it's pretty white buildings and amazing tile murals, and the beach was so much nicer in many ways but especially because there was no development taking away from the natural beauty. I wish we could have spent more time there.
Our dear friends Geordie and Nigel from Vancouver stopped by to visit while on their way to Porto to walk the Portuguese Camino. We met them at the bus station in Faro on Saturday afternoon and had a short visit and drink before we had to hurry to catch last bus home at 7:30pm! They came out to see us the next day so we were able to have a nice long visit that included a bit of a walk and a late lunch. It was so nice to connect with someone from home.
We had a rather low key week in Quarteira. Since we are not really beach vacation people we only sat on the beach once, but we did enjoy lots of walks along the shore. One day we went to a big street market just a couple of kilometres down the road. It was quite overwhelming to see all the things for sale but really nothing to buy.... Still carrying those backpacks remember!
Our last night in Quarteira we asked a young man who worked in a computer store that Robert had frequented for a recommendation of a restaurant that would serve us a typical Portuguese meal. We ended up in old Quarteira at a place that served grilled chicken. We'd seen a number of restaurants all claiming to have "the best" grilled chicken; I don't know about the other places but I'm here to tell you we thoroughly enjoyed not only our meal but the whole experience. We had a delicious salad, really good french fries (we'd kind of given up on the mediocre fries we'd been served most places), and the chicken was fantastic. I washed it all down with a San Miguel beer and Robert enjoyed the wine that was recommended by our excellent waitress. It was a good thing that we had a bit of a walk home because we had over indulged! We felt lucky to have found the old town, it gave us a better feeling for the area. Old villages are our preference over touristy beach resorts.
The next morning we were leaving early for Italy so it was home, pack and bed.
Stay tuned for our Italian experience!
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