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> SlowTrav > Trip Reports Report 1601: Italy 2008: Abruzzo, Umbria, Then WorriesBy Andrew from Missouri, Summer 2008 Page 3 of 6: Abruzzo and Nearby, Part 1: Norcia, Civitella del Tronto, Ascoli Piceno
View from Civitella del Tronto with storm clouds On Monday, I took off for my trip to Abruzzo. In 1996, I had an early meeting with someone I knew from Internet travel discussions, the now-lost-track-of Laurie, who lived in Rome then. She’d said it was a shame that, with all my experience in Italy at that point, I hadn’t really been to Abruzzo. With it now being 12 years later and still not having gone, I figured it was time; with limited time, I’d focus on a small part of the region. There were various possible routes to take to my base in Controguerra; I chose to make a stop in Norcia. Taking the superstrada by Foligno, I exited for Norcia as it approached Spoleto. On that mountainous road, sometimes with alternate one-ways for construction, I got to worry when the signs pointing ahead only referred to Visso, but when I could stop and look at the road atlas, I confirmed that this was the right way. I reached Norcia (the drive taking about 1 hr. 45) and the city gate of pink stone saying “Vetusta Nursia”; there was adequate parking outside. I walked down the lively main street and visited the basilica of S. Benedetto and its crypt, marking the birthplace of the twin saints Benedict and Scholastica. I looked around briefly, having some thought of returning the next week with my mother. It was getting to be lunch time, and I’d been unsure about having a sit-down lunch. One place boasted having both slow and fast food; I ate where it looked like I could eat decently and not take too long, I think called Taverna de Nursia, near the main gate. I had crostini with a trace of truffle and the local specialty of pasta norcina (cream and sausage) served in a small pot. So I proceeded on the drive. This was the Forca Canapine route, named after a mountain spot, but I took a tunnel rather than the highest road. After that I was in the Marche and there was some rain with the views of mountain scenes and high towns. At one point there was a carabiniere stopping cars, saying to go slow because of oil on the road. This was just before a curve, which I took slowly and saw a jackknifed truck. On the next curve, I started to skid but managed to keep control, glad for the handling of the Mercedes. I continued with the route I’d charted, going past Ascoli to the free autostrada and the exit for Controguerra. I drove up to the town and saw the turnoff for B&B Giardino, where I was booked. It was around 3pm; in the e-mail arrangements, Alex, the owner, said it shouldn’t be a problem to arrive before the 4pm check-in time showing on their Web site. There was a locked gate and no answer to the buzzer. I phoned the number showing at the gate and got Alex, who asked if I could come back in an hour; maybe I could have called in advance when I knew more precisely when I was arriving. I went to the main trafficked street and sat at a café table under a canopy as more rain came along, listening to people and trying to pick up a new dialect. Given the small-town setup, they didn’t take a drink order, but I had something at the bar before I left. I went back to the Giardino, the gate was open, and Alex’s mother checked me in, showing me a nice room. The bathroom was across the hall, but I was the only guest in that set of rooms. I rested for a bit, then met Alex. It was a nice place, but I needed to get accustomed to the limited service of a B&B. The price of €25 a night was certainly hard to beat. The owners didn’t stay there; they left packaged rolls for breakfast and instructed me to warm the coffee pot on the stove. I had the key to the padlock on the gate, where I needed to chain the sides together and put the lock in when I went out. There were also several cats on the grounds, appealing to me but with the worrisome story that one had just given birth and was ignoring her one reported kitten, who made a tremendous noise. There were nice grounds with chairs and a view. Thanks to Stefanaccio for recommending Controguerra and the Giardino as a base for seeing that part of Abruzzo and Ascoli. Late that first afternoon, I took off for Civitella del Tronto. Although I recently got a GPS for North America and haven’t made a whole lot of use of it, I figured that I didn’t have much need for one for this trip; in Italy, I’d just note the towns on the way and watch for signs for them. The prominent sign out of Controguerra is for Alba Adriatica; I figured that would lead me to the main road along the valley, where I would turn inland and look for Civitella exits. In fact that first road led me to the crowded coastal road, the opposite direction from what I wanted. I eventually got to the autostrada, made some bad turns, and made my way to Civitella going uphill on a deserted road as the sun was getting low. I parked in the main lot and found the access, with an escalator, to the Fortress. I got to the ticket window at 7:15, where they said I could reasonably visit before they closed at 8. The main thing that caught my interest while there was light was the view, at this time with lightning in the distance, and the description of the fortress as a battleground as different states eventually became united Italy. It was interesting for its great size and setting at 650 meters altitude while pretty close to the coast. There was interest in the structure but time was running out; the guidebook said it was open until midnight in August (the Web site now says 9), and it was Sept. 1, so I thought it would be well-lit, but there was very little lighting. I had to leave, and they marked my ticket for a free return. So, time for dinner. I passed over a fancy place for the Ristorante Fortezza. I had pasta alla chitarra, a dish I’d heard about often but never had; the interesting thing is that it is in fact a thin pasta with meatballs, which is generally viewed as not existing in Italy. Chitarra, generally meaning guitar, is the name of the pasta-cutting tool, and the meatballs are small. I was inside, and rain returned, bringing customers in from the outside tables. After dinner, I was a little disoriented but found the parking lot and made my way back to Controguerra a little more directly, but perhaps not the ideal way. Although I generally follow the rule not to plan a driving route by road numbers except for autostrada numbers, I found that there were signs pointing to the valley road SP1 del Tronto, which was a useful point of reference, leaving aside the presence of (ahem) certain ladies along there. The river Tronto near there marked the line between Abruzzo and Marche, and Tuesday was the day to visit the nearby city of Ascoli Piceno. Without too much trouble, I found my way to the recommended parking lot of the ex-seminario. That was pretty close to one of the main piazze, Piazza Arringo. I had some chance to look around there, with the Duomo and the city hall, with the art gallery where I would return later, and then nearby to Piazza del Popolo, with the Palazzo dei Capitani del Popolo and S. Francesco. Ascoli was a place that had long interested me and I was finally getting there; I had thought of it as a hill city, but I learned of it being a valley city as I researched this trip. There were interesting streets leading to the Tronto again, and I noted the rua name on some small streets, which I didn’t see elsewhere in Italy. The city made an interesting contrast with Urbino at the other end of Le Marche, a general sense of openness as opposed to medieval severity. I had lunch at the Corso restaurant, with fish only; they offered a spoken menu where I selected an antipasto of several dishes served in succession, and then a pasta. After lunch I went back to Piazza Arringo and the picture gallery open through the afternoon, then to Piazza del Popolo for the famed anisetta drink at the Meletti café, and a stop at the Internet Point I’d seen on P. Arringo. I got back to Controguerra and had thoughts of a pizza there. I looked for one known place but wasn’t finding it. This was my main occasion to go around the small historic center of town; children playing with toy guns on the central street made a contrast with the “against-war” name of the town. I wasn’t finding much in the way of eating choices, and I decided to take a look at the nearby town of Corropoli. This was a hill town to circle before I found parking with a walking street going up into town. It was dark; even with it being summer, there is a different feeling when it’s dark before dinnertime. In the central piazza I found a pizzeria. |
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