Abruzzo & A Quick Lunch in Molise

Friday of Labor Day weekend and the smell of BBQ filled the air. There were mountains, fresh air and cowboy hats. But we were not in the United States celebrating in any traditional way—although a look around and it kind of felt like it!

Welcome to Abruzzo, Italy. Abruzzo is a lesser-known region in the south(ish) central part of the country. It is dominated by the Apennine Mountains, a high altitude plane, and has a rugged landscape as well as a rocky coastline along the Adriatic Sea.

Daren and I really wanted to get to every region in Italy if possible, and when our friends were planning a visit and wanted to hike, we all agreed this might be an ideal location. Months later, here we were on Labor Day weekend, in the heart of Abruzzo trying the famous arrosticini, skewers of lamb that you roast over charcoal grills. We all opted to try this local specialty at Ristoro Mucciante, the place Stanley Tucci featured in the fourth episode of Season 1 of Tucci in Italy. It was just one of those beautiful clear blue days (hot as heck) where it felt a little unreal for so many reasons. We stood by the grill watching the meat sizzle and then sat down for a delicious picnic.

The trip itself started out with some with some unexpected challenges. We left Tuscany at a reasonable hour giving ourselves plenty of time before our 3pm check in. There was some talk about which route to take and after not too much deliberation I made the proclamation that we should take the shortest route. That made the most sense, right?

Wrong… we sat in traffic (unmoving traffic where people got out of their cars and walked around type of unmoving traffic) for about 2 1/2 hours. There was a terrible, fatal accident on the A1 so it felt wrong to complain too much given the terrible tragedy. When we finally did start moving there was another road closure on the way to our lodging requiring a long detour on winding mountain roads. Then Apple maps took us to the wrong location; 45 minutes away from the correct place. Maps said “you’ve arrived” but we were in the middle of a small back road with no hotel in sight. Our friends Dave & Angela using Google maps were blessedly unaffected by that one 45 min ooops. When we finally did arrive to what should have been a 3 hour trip a mere 9 hours later, it was so late and we were so grumpy and so out of sorts, we didn’t even eat dinner that night. We opted for apples, chocolate, and nuts on the bed in the hotel room.

But rocky start aside – let’s get back to where I started at the BBQ, finally relaxing in the mountains of Abruzzo (important stuff here!) So, about this arrosticini… Arrosticini are small skewers of mutton or sheep meat, traditionally cooked over long, narrow charcoal grills. At Ristoro Mucciante, though, the experience is as much about how you eat them as what you eat. You go into what is essentially a macelleria, choose your raw meat—arrosticini, sausages, lamb, pork, whatever looks good—and then take it outside and cook it yourself over rows of communal grills that are already fired up and waiting. There was a lot of other options too – lots of grilled vegetables which Daren bought, dessert, and even in this far off middle of nowhere part of Italy – non alcoholic beer to my happy surprise!

It looks like the old West in this DIY BBQ restaurant. The Mucciante family has been doing some version of this style of buy your own meat and cook it outside for a long time. Their family had been returning to Campo Imperatore, the high plane National Park in Abruzzo, with their sheep for generations, and in 1965 they set up a small hut here to sell meat during the summer. Then Hollywood, or at least Italian cinema showed up. A fake American gas station and café called the “Way Station Café” was built nearby as a movie set for the 1977 Franco Nero thriller Autostop Rosso Sangue (Hitch-Hike). After filming ended, Giulio Mucciante took over the structure and turned it into a permanent place to sell the family’s meat and salumi. His sons Rodolfo, Roberto and Gianni grew up there and continue the family business today. Parts of Campo Imperatore were also used in the filming of They Call Me Trinity, the famous Bud Spencer and Terence Hill western, adding another little piece of movie history to the landscape.

The region really feels unlike other parts of Italy that we have seen—or that folks might typically associate with the country. In the area where we stayed, livestock were everywhere. Cars pulled over like it was completely normal to wait for cows to cross the road. The plan in this area was to hike and try local foods. While that was pretty cool, sometimes the most interesting parts of a trip are the least expected, even with the best-laid plans.

On our first day in Abruzzo, we plotted a trip to visit Rocca Calascio (a castle) – a stunning, windswept medieval fortress situated at about 1,460 meters in Gran Sasso National Park. Then we would hike the three miles or so back down to see the town of Santo Stefano di Sessanio and have some lunch. The town was described as a beautifully preserved fortified medieval village famous for the Albergo Diffuso concept, where visitor accommodations are spread throughout restored historic buildings.

But once we got remotely close to the castle, we learned that we needed a shuttle, that the shuttle had a bit of a wait, and that what Italians call an accessible path to the castle is rather steep. Then, while the weather was on the cooler side, for whatever reason- perhaps the lack of shade and/or the altitude—Koji wasn’t exactly his springy self but panting and lagging-behind on the way down to the town of Santo Stefano. We opted to cut the hike short and made an “emergency” plan to get the car and get Koji off the planned trail.

Our friends, who also quit the hike down with us, went to find a place to eat for all five of us. Koji was unhappy about the pack splitting, and, (un)naturally, a parade of donkeys had to come by while he was waiting alone with me, adding some nice stress to his canine adventure. Daren picked Koji and I up in the car and we parked. The walk to the restaurant, where our friends had pinned their location, was in the hot sun and up a hill and did little to improve anyone’s mood or Koji’s rest.

When we got to the restaurant and sat down, we just wanted to hydrate, sit, and make sure the dog was okay. Honestly, the LAST thing we wanted to do was make conversation with strangers. So when some English-speaking women started talking to us and our friend Dave invited them over, some not-so-nice words might have been dancing through our heads.

Like I said, sometimes it’s the least expected circumstances that lead to the best experiences. This is where I think we actually connected with the area and what it was all about. The two English-speaking women were cousins, originally from Australia, and probably in their late 50s or early 60s. Their family was from the area but had moved to Australia. One of the women’s parents moved back to this part of Abruzzo when she was 12.

What no internet information or anyone else had yet told us was that the area had been devastated by an earthquake 17 years earlier, killing hundreds of people and causing extensive damage throughout the surrounding towns and villages. Santo Stefano di Sessanio was among them. Its medieval tower almost completely collapsed, homes were damaged, and rebuilding would become a process measured not in months or even a few years, but in decades.

According to the women we met, only about 20% of the town had been fully restored. The cousin who had moved back to Italy told us that her life would have been much easier had she stayed in Australia and that she wished her parents had never moved back to Italy. Her mom, who was 70 at the time of the earthquake, was one of the many residents whose homes were severely damaged. The government set up temporary housing outside the town while homes and the surrounding area were restored. This temporary area was quite comfortable and newer than many of the residents’ original homes, so of course many of them liked staying there. They were also near open shops and amenities.

Now it’s 17 years later, and this woman’s mother is 87. Her home has been restored, but she physically cannot move back into it. She can no longer easily get around the house or get to the stores and other amenities she needs. The temporary housing that made sense after the earthquake still makes sense for her now—but because her original home has officially been restored, she can no longer live in the temporary housing for free. If she stays there, she has to pay for it. So you’d think, okay, she can at least sell her home. But not really. There is not only very little market for the area, but very little market for a home in an earthquake zone without a fully functioning town around it.

There are so many pockets of the country where there are stories like this. The administration had good intentions, but the long-term consequences have not always been fully thought through, and citizens are left with very few choices; choices that can leave them close to poverty. The two women left, but the story stuck with us.

After lunch, we walked around the town, and I think we saw it through a new lens. There were mostly closed buildings, with a few cute shops selling handmade goods. Now those goods took on new meaning. We purchased one or two small things to support the local economy and to remind us that things are not always as they first appear.

The next day was another beautiful hike, although not quite as long. This time it was the feeling of vertigo for one of us. And maybe a side of hunger! We had the earlier-mentioned BBQ joint on the itinerary, and it didn’t hurt to get a head start on that—which brings us back to where I started this blog.

That evening, we sat in the breakfast nook of the old convent-turned-hotel where we were staying. We were all a little full from the big pranzo (lunch) we’d had and just had snacks in the setting light while talking and playing a card-type game that mostly just led to lots of conversation.

We were staying at the Convento di San Colombo, a former Franciscan convent in the mountains outside Barisciano. The convent dates back centuries—the present complex is generally described as a 16th-century Franciscan convent—and sits at more than 1,000 meters above sea level, surrounded by an old oak forest. The property has been restored as a small historic inn, with just eight rooms, some carved out of the friars’ old cells, as well as the former granary and dovecote. The property is also home to the Apennine Floristic Research Center, a botanical garden and an enormous herbarium. So basically, we were sleeping in old friars’ rooms in a convent on the side of a mountain surrounded by plants. Pretty cool!

NOT our photo below, but pulled off the Internet:

Then these are our photos of the convent.

The last morning Daren and I woke up early, as we often do, to do yoga and exercise. We took a jog down the road where we saw some trails up a mountain on the drive back to the convent a few times. The early morning light lit the sky and, while it wasn’t the nicest area to run or hike in, it certainly was stunning and the lighting made it quite magical.

We hit the road toward Puglia right after breakfast, but we made a point to have a lunch reservation in Molise. Our friends were driving their own car and it not only made a nice halfway point, but gave us the opportunity to at least set foot in Molise—and for Koji to set paw there—if for nothing else than to check off that we spent at least a smidge of time in this very small, relatively unknown region.

There seems to be skiing and some winter activities farther inland, so we may have to plan a winter adventure there. But for the time being, we hugged the coast and had a nice lunch in Termoli, a colorful Adriatic seaside town and one of Molise’s best-known destinations. Not quite enough to say we’ve seen Molise. But enough to say we’ve been there. Next up – Puglia!!

Molise:

Ciao! 🇮🇹

Reflections on Cinque Terre and an Unexpected Find

by Daren Anderson

There is a place in Italy where mountains plunge straight into the sea and colorful villages cling to cliffs and tiny coves along the shoreline. Houses painted in shades of yellow, orange, and ochre cling to cliffs over the water. Above them, terraced vineyards and olive groves produce crisp local white wines and flavorful olive oil. There are five towns in all—Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterosso al Mare. Together they comprise Cinque Terre (Five Lands), one of the most stunning and scenic places in Italy. If you’ve ever seen a screensaver or postcard featuring a picturesque Italian seaside village, chances are it was depicting one of these five special towns.

Hoping to see Cinque Terre before summer tourist season was in full swing, we headed to Liguria, the coastal region we have come to love. Here you’ll find the fabled Italian Riviera, the great port city of Genoa (the birthplace of Christopher Columbus) and, of course, Cinque Terre.

The towns of Cinque Terre were, in days past, reachable only by water, leaving them isolated and heavily dependent on the sea for food and transportation. Today, a train line runs straight through the mountains and emerges at a station in each of the five towns, making a visit remarkably convenient. Travelers can easily move from town to town by train or arrive from one of the many nearby cities and villages outside the region.

In addition, a well-maintained network of hiking trails connects the towns and provides an opportunity to walk along the cliffs, through terraced vineyards and olive groves, and enjoy spectacular views of the Mediterranean. These trails are not for the faint of heart or the out of shape. The climbs can be strenuous, although the paths are in excellent condition and exceptionally well-marked.

While we failed spectacularly in our effort to avoid tourists, we were nonetheless completely enchanted by the beauty of the towns and the magic of this special part of Italy. In a year filled with superlatives, Cinque Terre stands out as one of the very best places we have visited, and perhaps our favorite so far.

To experience Cinque Terre, we chose to stay a few miles north of the region in the seaside town of Chiavari. The five towns themselves offer limited and often expensive hotel options. In retrospect, I think we would enjoy staying in one of the villages for a few nights, allowing us to experience the early mornings and evenings before and after the day-tripper crowds descend.

On our first day, we took the train from Chiavari to the southernmost town, Riomaggiore. Koji joined us, and we planned to walk from there to Manarola, having learned that this route was the shortest and easiest. Koji is feeling his years and is probably no longer up for a difficult hike involving steep climbs in the hot sun.

Fortunately for all of us, the path connecting these two towns, known as the Via dell’Amore (Way of Love), was not really a hike at all but rather a beautifully paved walkway high above the sea, offering incredible views without any significant climbing. The sea was rough, and waves exploded against the rocks below us, sending plumes of spray into the air. The constant roar of the surf added to the unforgettable vista and provided some of the best photographs of the trip.

We enjoyed a light lunch in Manarola and spent some time wandering through the town. These villages are difficult to describe. You have to see them. Even photographs struggle to capture their charm and scale. After some gelato and a bit more exploring, we returned to Chiavari to enjoy the hotel pool and a great dinner at the hotel restaurant.

We had planned this trip around the travel schedule of our good friends Cheryl and Mike, who were spending a week exploring Provence. We arranged to meet them, along with their traveling companions Greg and Suzanne, in Ventimiglia, a Riviera town located right on the French border.

We drove north that morning, passing through Genoa before arriving in Ventimiglia for a leisurely seaside lunch and an enjoyable afternoon with friends from home. The road along the Ligurian coast is a remarkable feat of engineering. At times it felt as though we spent more time in tunnels than out of them. Italy has built an extraordinary network of highways through some very challenging terrain. The drive provided a good demonstrated how dramatically geography has shaped Italy’s history. Mountains separated regions for centuries, helping create the strong regional identities, dialects, and traditions that still define the country today. The vast network of tunnels, highways, and rail lines have been revolutionary in connecting, for the first time in history, these disparate regions and fostering a deeper unity that existed before.

Back in Chiavari, we decided to return to Cinque Terre to see a few more of the towns and tackle a more ambitious hike. This time Koji remained at the hotel, and he did not seem particularly disappointed when he learned how strenuous the route would be. He held down the fort and guarded the room from his travel bed while we headed out to the train station.

We began in Monterosso al Mare, the northernmost of the five towns and the only one with a true beach. Our first glimpse featured the classic Italian seaside scene: perfectly arranged rows of colorful umbrellas and hundreds of people enjoying the warm weather from lounge chairs or the water itself.

While it is technically not yet summer, Italy is already warm. Days have been sunny, with temperatures in the 70s and 80s—perfect beach weather.

Monterosso quickly became our favorite of the towns we visited. It featured a beautiful church, narrow winding streets, colorful flowers, and a relaxed atmosphere that encouraged lingering. We spent quite a while exploring before beginning our hike.

The trail out of Monterosso wastes no and immediately starts climbing straight into the hills above town. We ascended for at least an hour, passing through terraced vineyards while taking in views of the Mediterranean far below. There were plenty of fellow hikers on the trail, ample shady spots for rest breaks, and clear signs directing us toward Vernazza, the next town along the coast.

The highlight of the hike comes when Vernazza suddenly appears below you. Hundreds of feet beneath the trail, the village is tucked into a narrow opening between the mountains and the sea, its colorful buildings clustered around a small harbor. A medieval tower overlooks the town, and later in the day we climbed it to enjoy yet another remarkable perspective on the coastline.

We had a mediocre pizza for lunch—proof that there is bad food everywhere, even in Italy. Food was not the highlight of our visit. In heavily touristed destinations like these, finding an exceptional meal can sometimes be difficult. Restaurants catering primarily to tourists do not always meet our increasingly finicky standards.

Even so, despite the crowds and the dozens of languages we heard around us, including plenty of American English, we thoroughly enjoyed both the towns and the region. We will undoubtedly return, perhaps a little farther outside the high season next time.

I cannot end this blog without talking about Chiavari, which somewhat unexpectedly has earned a place on our short list of favorite towns in Italy.

We selected Chiavari simply because of its proximity to Cinque Terre and because we found an attractive hotel at a reasonable price. What we discovered was a gorgeous and authentic town featuring a seaside promenade, fountains, parks, a beautiful piazza, rocky beaches, a marina, and miles of elegant porticos.

We knew almost nothing about the town before arriving and spent many hours wandering its streets and stumbling upon beautiful surprises. The town was clean, well maintained, and refreshingly authentic. There were relatively few foreign tourists. Instead, the streets and promenades were filled with Italian families, babies, teenagers, parents, grandparents, and people with disabilities, all sharing public spaces together. We saw circles of teenagers chatting on the beach. Groups of elderly gathered on park benches together, families with strollers, and dogs everywhere. There were small dogs, large dogs, elderly dogs, puppies, all walking, running, sniffing, tugging, and occasionally barking. Hands down this was the most dog-friendly town we’ve seen in a country that is renowned for its dog-friendliness.

The combination of such a rich mix of people, a lovely and well-kept city, and a relaxed seaside atmosphere created a great sense of energy and vibrancy. Chiavari felt alive in the best possible way.

As always seems to happen with places we love, our days in Liguria passed far too quickly. We returned home with sore feet, hundreds of photographs, and a growing conviction that Liguria may be our favorite region of Italy. We came for Cinque Terre, but in some ways it was Chiavari, the unexpected discovery, that lingered most in our minds.

Either way, we’ll be back!

Talk to us – add a comment, email/text… we’d love to hear from you too!

Feel free to check out the Instagram posts from this trip: