In the Heights

We arose early in the morning today to savor the beautify of our surroundings. John sat by the pool as the day started, watching shadow turn to light, listening to the soft sounds of birds and farmers in Puglia.

But much as we might have wanted to stay at the lovely Fontana Vecchia, we had a long drive ahead of us. We are heading north, ultimately headed towards Venice and Milan, but on the way we are exploring Abruzzo and The Marches. Tonight we are going to stay in a small town in the mountains adjacent to Abruzzo National Park.

The drive was not an easy one. The GPS has not been completely helpful in Italy. Here is Puglia it tends to send us down tiny, unpaved country lanes, barely big enough for one car, impossible for two. We found our way to the autostrade, Italy’s high speed toll road system, easily enough. We drove for three generally boring hours on something that vaguely resembled Highway 5. The trouble began when we left the autostrade for the secondary roads that would like us to our destination.

Yes, the road could not have been more closed. And apparently it was not well-marked in Italian either because we were not the only cars that came this far and had to turn back. We had no particular idea where we were or what we should do. John had the thoroughly brilliant idea of turning back to the nearest town and finding the nearest tourist information office. They would, he was sure, have maps of the area and be able to tell us what routes to take. So we stopped in the small city of Isernia, and sure enough, we found a tourist office there. A very helpful young woman who had studied English in Glasgow - fortunately she did not speak with a bit of completely unintelligible Clydeside accent - helped us out a bit. She did not have a good map, but we went over to a nearby square and talked to her father. He gave some quite useful directions. We also learned that our friend, shown in the picture below, in addition to running the tourist office, had created a summer learning program for young children in Isernia. Fridays were their beach days. 

About an hour later, with no more dead roads, we made it to Barrea, a medieval town in the Apennine mountains of Abruzzo. Barrea is perched precipitously on the side of a mountain over a deep gorge. It now also overlooks a lake created after the war to control flooding and provide water for towns and farms. 

 

 

We are staying in nearby Villeta Barrea, at the Hotel Degli Olmi, right at the gateway to Abruzzo National Park. The hotel is nothing particularly special. It has obviously been there for decades, and the rooms, though clean, have that musty old hotel feel. John looked at a couple rooms before picking one that overlooked a small pool. We unpacked our stuff and walked down by the river as it enters the north end of the lake. We stopped by the park information center on our way, and a couple of friendly park workers - I am not sure if you call them rangers or not - suggested that tomorrow we might want to do a half day hike up Mount Amaro. We signed up.

 

In the evening, we went back to Barrea looking for some supper. It was much emptier than we thought it might be at the hour of the passeggiata. 

 

 

We passed the church - a relatively new building - where a dozen or so older ladies were hearing Mass. 

 

 

We admired the incredible panoramic view from the outlook or belvedere 

 

 

and watched the setting sun make it even more magical.

 

 

 

The only thing we could not find was an open restaurant. We ended up at the local supermarket where they made us some absolutely wretched sandwiches. 

 

 

Tomorrow we hike and then go on to Ascoli Picena.