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italiasoloitalia · 6 years ago

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Days 20, 21: Pescara del Tronto

Glimpses of the turquoise waters of the Adriatic as take the autostradale towards Pescara del Tronto. Green, lush patchwork countryside to our right. We decide to overnight in Ascoli Piceno though my cousin Anna is in Rome atm so we stay at Torre 100. Straight into Piazza del Popolo to see that beautiful space and have a coffee at Caffe Meletti. Yay! It is the quiet of siesta time but we explore the major buildings and churches around it and Piazza Arringo. Medieval history at every turn. Several buildings showing repair work yo earthquake damage.

After a refresh and feet up we return for aperitivo and the piazza is glowing in the afternoon sun, there is a group of well-dressed family members gathered in the centre, cones of confetti at the ready as they await the bridal couple from the civil ceremony in the comune. Pigeons swoop, children bike, families circle and the scene is a delight. Dinner nearby at Trattoria Nonna Nina begins with Oliva Ascolane, certamente, they’re very good though the olive has not been peeled (a la orange) but split and stuffed - the olive itself is ‘fleshier’: 8 olives for 5€! Not $4 each like in Melbourne that time! A beautiful stroll back through lively streets.

Pear-shaped! It had to happen I guess for things too good - Glenn wakes after a restless night, dizzy and unbalanced on his feet, slightly nauseous. One would forgive forgive us for 😱😨 ... stroke? after friends’ recent events. 🤔 middle ear/vertigo ? Because we were to be iheading to the somewhat isolated village with limited access to medical care, I thought doctor best option but not so...ambulance to hospital 🤢 where within the hour he’s on a drip, followed by a ‘tac’ (head scan), followed by a specialist otorino (ent) who diagnoses middle ear/ vertigo, medication and I’m guiding wobbly-boot to taxi at 2pm. Amazing service and attention from hotel staff, three lovely female ambo’s, nurses and orderlies....all for...zip, niente! 😲

The hotel have kept our room and as we enter, Caterina my cousin rings - we were to be calling her tomorrow and I had not wanted to trouble them with this until tomorrow. I asked what made you call, “ti sentivo vicino” (I felt you near) 😌

We decide to let G rest and tomorrow they will come to drive our car to village as G of course should not drive till that dizziness goes 🙄. I scurry out to fill the script and ... the first rain of our holiday descends - thunder cracking, torrential, hail kinda rain .. yep, pear-shaped

��Don’t complain” I mutter as I trudge along - the first hiccup...(non è grave, solo fastidioso: not grave just annoying said dottore) and hopefully within a few days he’ll be ok and to top it off, we’ll be with famiglia. Next hiccup, farmacia doesn’t have one of the medications, ritorna domani mattina - I anxiously respond “but that will delay his recovery”...no, no the compresse (capsules) will be the help, intanto. All this today in Italian mind you! Exhausted, I pull in out of the torrent into a welcoming bar to get a bite for G and a welcome macchiatone! Forza Leda!

A picnic dinner in and early night after getting in touch with my family in Pescara del Tronto and they insist they will come in tomorrow morning to drive our car back to paese. I’m at la farmacia on the dot of 9am after having called into the same bar for a cappuccino. Must say I felt like a local on the way back, a signora having done her morning chore and back home. Now is the time for me to put on my infermiera 👩‍⚕️hat and administer G’s prescribed puntara (injection). 😱🤷‍♀️. Gs not convinced I can manage so I go downstairs to prega help from the lovely signora first aid and she is happy to help I’ll simpatico 🙄 signore by showing me how. I plunge that needle with a good jab 🤨 and we head downstairs to see Vinicio on doorstep 😍🤗. We’re off and V and I jabber on the way while poor G keeps his eyes straight ahead. We slow as we pass the paesi along the via Salaria, all affected by the earthquake. PdelT from the road below is as awful as we’d seen and heard via the internet and we move on to the area on the flat near il Fiume Tronto where the ‘provisorio’ casetti (‘provisional little houses’) have been built, together with little shops, bar and community areas, to those who chose to stay in the area instead of relocating, until decisions re future permanent situations are made.

My mother’s family are there with open arms, tears and an heartwarming welcome. Their suffering over the past two years is palpable but they are making the best of their straightened circumstances by beautifying their homes, frequent gatherings, celebrations and planning for the future. The table is set and we await the arrival of family by sharing news, photos and calling Mum. More tears, passing the phone around to all though not mentioning anything to her about G - she’s been praying constantly for our safe journey and we wouldn’t want to shake that faith! g is not himself but putting a brave face on it and when lunch is served he’s given the head of the table and much fun, hand-waving translations and feasting begins. It’s 4pm before coffee is served after prosciutto and melon, lasagne, arrosto di manzo con verdure, piselli con prosciutto, insalata, pomodori e citriole, frutta and zuppa inglese 🤭. G thankfully is not nauseous and able to satisfy the “mangia, mangia” on repeat though is head is still spinning and is wobbly on his feet. Poor thing. I leave him to rest still why I’m taken up to see the village up close. It’s devastating and we are able to walk the upper road where my father’s childhood home stood. It’s mostly rubble save for the cantina which is amazingly in place. A little park near my aunt’s home is now the site of a memorial and there are t-shirts with images of the victims strung along the fence. Very moving as my cousin Pierino goes along telling me who they were and little anecdotes about how and why. Most were not from the village but visiting for summer. At my Zia Fenisia’s home I recognised the edges of the marble stairwell that I so well remember and remnants of the little green tiles that dotted the terrazzo at the front of the house. 😰. It is pleasing to see the beloved Fontana (drinking fountain and one time clothes-washing site), whose renowned water stems from the fantastic Monte Vettore which looms above and behind, has survived but unlikely to remain.

Up to the cimitero to visit the crypts of all the family members on both sides of our family that have passed away over the years and it makes for an emotional day of both joy and sadness. Our family names of Rendina and Filotei are abundant and gives my sense of belonging even more piquancy.

We return and preparations are in progress for dinner 🤭😳 and G is doing ok having had some funny and interesting exchanges in Italglish. So much ribbing, dry and witty remarks tells the story of people who know each other so well, spend a lot of time together yet are caring and respectful. A ‘light’ cena of frittata con buffala, leftovers from lunch, more prosciutto and cheeses, frutta and a ‘marscapone’ (tiramisu but with a very light and loose creamy mascarpone). Uffa! A great day but I need to get Mr Wobby-boot to bed so my kind cousins drive us to nearby Agriturismo Grisciano and will collect us again in morning.

We sleep like logs and wake several times towards morning when everything is dark...dormi says G, it’s still night, dormi says I the next time...finally G gets up to open the shutters to a brilliant sun and it’s 9.30am 🙄😬😆. A cappuccino before we are collected and back to family where the women have been to church and I go to meet them and check out the new church of Santa Croce di PdelT where the original bell has been returned and erected. Inside, only the ancient crucifix and a wooden statue of Our Lady have been saved from the old church which sadly had housed ancient relics. Two new bells are planned in addition to the original and it is lovely to see and know that this important part of their lives is resurrected (😏) and continues to sustain them.

The women are off to the bar for an aperitivo and I am taken in arm ... G tags along but then scampers after the men, making the women laugh with his horrified face and ‘chattering’ gesticulations. Cries of “quando e simpatico!” have him 💁🏼‍♂️🤦‍♀️

Crodino’s (a non-alcoholic Campari-ish fizzy) all ‘round, a platter of olive-oiled bread, prosciutto and lonza and I am joining in the banter like a local. Such fun. That would have done me for lunch but we apparently lunch is at the new ristorante on site! On our way, meetings with many who again introduced themselves as amiche and parenti of my mother, sending her regards and telling anecdotes of their relationship. Sweet.

Lunch is funny - talk about fussy about their food! The trouble is of course that they eat so well at home, that going out never, or rarely, meets their expectations. The antipasti of meats and local cheeses was served (trendily) on wooden platters but as whole salamis and cheeses with knives to slice for yourself. My cousin quipped “when it comes time to pay the bill, I’ll take it outside and leave it there for them to get for themselves”! 🤣. The fantastic spaghetti all’amatriciana had pecorino cheese in the sauce(🤦‍♀️🙇‍♂️); the tagliatelle ai funghi had too many other kinds (and too much of them) and not enough porcini (🤦‍♀️🙇‍♂️); Leda wanted agnello, there wasn’t enough, said Pierino, the potatoes are burnt said Vinicio...let me say, it was all delicious (we’d be very happy for it to be our local!) and it added to our fun!

It’s decided ‘una scarpata’ (a jaunt) to Castelluccio to show us the beginning of the famed ‘la fioratura’ (flowering) of the lentil plains of Monte Vettore, about 15 kms away. I had been with my family when we came when I was 15 and Dad had so wanted us to see it and relive the times he used to climb up from PdelT to tend to fields with his zaino (backpack) of bread and tinned beef (Simmenthal). It is a spectacular drive up and so beautiful in the afternoon light. Castelluccio too was virtually destroyed in the earthquake and the proprietors of the many shops and restaurants have set up food trucks as an interim measure until a restaurant plaza is finished. It is busy with visitors and we are invited for a coffee at the one remaining Agriturismo la Valle Delle Aquile owned by friends of Linda (Vinicio’s daughter) and her boyfriend GianLuca. A fabulous view which is supposed to be even better at sunrise. Next time? The flowers are just beginning to open and the poppies this year are late but it is something I’d love to see at its peak (early to mid July usually). Still, stunning.

The table is laid...again...🤦‍♀️ but the freshest local buffala mozzarella and sweet tomatoes, stracchino and other local cheeses, salads, carciofi, salami, prosciutto etc is hard to resist amidst the cries of “magari un pocchino” (even just a little). Dolci, more, then we’re taken over to the con.tain.errr where they have community gatherings with a kitchen, tables, tv and even karaoke (😫) and all manner of boxes are taken out for us to choose some PdelT mementoes for the family. Lovely.

We are driven back to Grisciano for the night and,all being well, G will drive us back in the morning to farewell before we move on to Orvieto. Yes, many tears, warm embraces, loving wishes to all in the family later and we leave. Such a wonderful few days, even though emotionally draining, my heart is full.

It was fortuitous (or from mum’s prayers🤔) that G’s vertigo thing happened when it did as we were able to work around it in a safe harbour. It’s improving (slightly) daily and it’s more likely, Dr G thinks, stemming from neck exercises and movements he did rather than any middle ear issue.

Orvieto, here we, slowly, come.

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