At sunrise, the Majella mountains take on a pinkish glow. Rising above the Adriatic Sea, the dazzling light begins its mountain climb for a captivating view: beautiful, peaceful, and serene. Pier Carla does her morning magic and the best cappuccino starts the day. With the Italian news in the background, a conversation leads to interest in Hilary Clinton. My cousins are very global in their thinking.
A morning walking tour gets underway. Our first stop is to the home where Domenico's father and grandfather lived. On the first floor of this family-owned property, a lovely flower shop spills its colors onto the sidewalk. Inside flowers, plants and a bit of jewelry offer a glimpse of the Italian's love of beauty in many shapes and forms.
Our walk is informative, social, and pleasant. We meet folks along the way; some related and others long-time friends of Domenico. How honored I am to be shown the birthplace of my grandparents, to visit the church where they worshipped, to enter the lovely homes of several relatives, and to claim this history as my own.
To get to Terra Vecchia, we walked through La Porta del Sol. This was the fortified entrance to the ancient city (curfews strictly enforced back in the day). Well-kept stone houses peep out from the alleys along the narrow and only road that runs the whole length of the village, leading eventuallyto a a breathtaking view facing the mountains. Vecchio ma bello!
We ride over to nearby Civitella, a town with a panoramic view of Fara. Again, Domenico and his Fiat handle the mountain climb and descent with no problema.
Lunch at a trattoria outside Fara. No menus - they just tell you what they have on the way in. The salad tastes just like Mom's. No need for snacks when you get to eat these delicious meals.
Sadly, it was time to say goodbye. In less than two days, I made a deep connection to the homeland of my grandparents, a lasting friendship with my wonderful cousins and a feeling of being just a few steps away from the heavenly skies over the mountains.
At the bus stop, Domenico made sure someone would show me where we had to change bus to continue on to Rome. Such a thoughtful guy. Arrivederci, Fara.
A morning walking tour gets underway. Our first stop is to the home where Domenico's father and grandfather lived. On the first floor of this family-owned property, a lovely flower shop spills its colors onto the sidewalk. Inside flowers, plants and a bit of jewelry offer a glimpse of the Italian's love of beauty in many shapes and forms.
Our walk is informative, social, and pleasant. We meet folks along the way; some related and others long-time friends of Domenico. How honored I am to be shown the birthplace of my grandparents, to visit the church where they worshipped, to enter the lovely homes of several relatives, and to claim this history as my own.
To get to Terra Vecchia, we walked through La Porta del Sol. This was the fortified entrance to the ancient city (curfews strictly enforced back in the day). Well-kept stone houses peep out from the alleys along the narrow and only road that runs the whole length of the village, leading eventuallyto a a breathtaking view facing the mountains. Vecchio ma bello!
We ride over to nearby Civitella, a town with a panoramic view of Fara. Again, Domenico and his Fiat handle the mountain climb and descent with no problema.
Lunch at a trattoria outside Fara. No menus - they just tell you what they have on the way in. The salad tastes just like Mom's. No need for snacks when you get to eat these delicious meals.
Sadly, it was time to say goodbye. In less than two days, I made a deep connection to the homeland of my grandparents, a lasting friendship with my wonderful cousins and a feeling of being just a few steps away from the heavenly skies over the mountains.
At the bus stop, Domenico made sure someone would show me where we had to change bus to continue on to Rome. Such a thoughtful guy. Arrivederci, Fara.
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