Category: Province of Teramo
A pagan-sounding place and a bed-warming priest Up on the hill overlooking Roseto we spy a dome-like structure and decide to investigate. The signs along the road say Montepagano. The countryside, as we climb, opens out in a verdant expanse towards the Majella and Gran Sasso, each with a lingering mantle of snow. We find a silent village. It is too early for the tourist season, when holidaymakers will drive up from the coast, animating the streets and squares and filling the few cafés and restaurants. For now, the bars are empty. Help yourself, says the friendly owner of one. So we do. We carry our drinks out to...
There is one thing that towns on the Adriatic coast have in common. They are sliced in two by ‘la via Nazionale’, that is, the Strada Statale 16. It stretches from Oltranto in Puglia to Padova in the north, making it the longest of its kind in Italy, though nowadays only motorway-phobic travellers would travel its whole length. That’s because it’s a stop-and-start kind of road, punctuated by traffic lights, roundabouts, pedestrian crossings and bottlenecks, all making progress teeth-grindingly slow. Outside the towns the road is mostly bordered by ugly factories, warehouses and billboards, and occasionally by pine trees. There used to be more trees but though pretty they’re...
I read somewhere that a cicada’s mating call can reach more decibels than a passing motorbike. I am reminded of this while stretched out on the sandy floor of the pine forest, gazing up at the lofty, leafy canopy of umbrella pines. The cicadas are in full orchestra mode and the decibels have clearly exceeded a convoy of Harley Davidsons. And yet here’s the weird thing: their whirring is lulling me to sleep. Just after the small promontory at Torre del Cerrano the beach curves gently into a new bay and another kilometre or so of public beach. The sea is the same – endless, azure and flat as...
A beach-lover’s paradise Perhaps it was my upbringing in egalitarian Scotland, or the happy hours I spent roaming Australian beaches as a young adult, but I believe that beaches should be for everyone. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate the convenience of private lidos. Same Beach, Same Sea If you frequent the same beach day in, day out for the whole summer, as many Italians do, you don’t want to have to drag your paraphernalia behind you every morning. It’s natural to want your spot reserved, with your umbrella already opened, your sunbed in place, your beach neighbours familiar and friendly. Many Italians are happy to pay a...
Never imagine that hill towns in Abruzzo are all the same. That once you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all. Nothing is further from the truth. There are borghi that meander crookedly along the crest of a hill, others that sit boldly astride it like a layered wedding cake. And others still that seem to defy gravity, clinging to the mountainside and looking, from a distance and especially after a snowfall, like a carefully assembled nativity scene. Aside from topographical differences, each place has its own story to tell, its own treasure-trove of artistic and cultural gems. And none more so than Atri in the province of Teramo. Atri...
Something is up. As we approach Silvi Paese late on a summer’s evening we can’t find a place to park. We drive upwards and down and roundabout and eventually squeeze into a slot half-way up the hill. Could it be, someone suggests, the Festa di Paese? Light streams from the open doors of the Church of San Salvatore but this is not unusual. On summer nights anyone can wander in from the street at any time to pray or just quietly sit. As we near the Belvedere, it becomes clear there is an invasion afoot. What is curious is that the invaders of this normally rather staid village are...
There are some towns in Italy that I think of as having two souls. Like Silvi, for instance. Down at the shore is the high-spirited, slightly brash extrovert; overlooking it from the hill above its more reserved other half. This is a tale of two Silvi. Silvi Marina It is surprising how many Italians I have met from other regions who are familiar with Silvi Marina from their childhood. This is probably because its many attributes read like an advertisement for family holidays: reasonably priced accommodation, a summer programme of concerts and events, a plethora of restaurants and gelaterie, and a safe, sandy beach (one of the ‘seven sisters...
Saved for a rainy day We are driving on a country road, peering through rain-splattered windows, when someone remarks, predictably, that it would all look so much better if the sun were shining. It could be Scotland We are in the province of Teramo, heading for Civitella del Tronto, and the morning that started out dull and unpromising has become wild and wet. But even on this rain-swept day the landscape has its own beauty: the patchwork fields fringed by woodland, the mist ribboning the mountains in the distance. There’s not a soul about – only a few sheep that pause in their munching and raise their sodden heads...
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error in translation leaving this article non quite correct. Happiness is NOT desiring what you have, is the correct translation.…
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