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Searching for the Ghost Towns of Abruzzo
| Article
# : |
13281 |
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Section : |
LIFE
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| Issue
Date : |
10 / 1987 |
2,527 Words |
| Author
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Jon Laitin
Jon Laitin is a free-lance writer, photographer, and editor
living in Thorndike, Maine. |
Lush valleys and vineyards lie in the shadows of snowcapped mountains, where ancient villages are perched like ornaments and wild wolves send shepherds and their flocks for cover at day's end. Romans race down the high-speed auto strada to Abruzzo's ski resorts, particularly those near Gran Sasso, Italy's highest peak. Germans worship the summer sun on the beaches of Abruzzo's coastal city, Pescara.
The Abruzzo region encompasses a slice of Adriatic coastline in the lower calf of Italy's boot, between Martinsicuro and Vasto; it reaches inland to within fifty kilometers of Rome. The region boasts a 155-square-mile national park containing rare species of both birch tree and brown bear, well-maintained mountain roads suggesting l'aventura along their zigzag ascending perimeters, and incomparable local wines and foods. Yet few American tourists ever venture into the land originally inhabited by the proud Sabine mountain people, who heroically fought off the Romans until 290 B.C.
What brought us to Abruzzo was a long-standing invitation to visit the relatives of an Italian-American friend. Besides the promise of making new friends and enjoying sumptuous home cooking, we intended to explore the deserted mountain villages obliquely referred to in a scant few books and magazines.
A modern highway cut through the mountains - suspended at dazzling heights above valleys, winding through tunnels as long as three miles, and with an often ignored speed limit of 90 mph - leads the traveler from Rome across the country to Pescara in less than three hours. Our destination, the small town of Pianella nestled into a hilltop just twenty minutes inland from the coast, typically has its ancient quarters in the center. Here the countryside is speckled with modest villas and olive trees, where old Fiat Cinque Centos (500 cc) wheeze their ascents, and intimidating white jagged peaks in the background seem to have been painted flat against the sky.
Our hosts had planned to show us the touristy beaches and the town's disco until we established that we had other interests. We explained to our new friends that we wanted to see some open market places and were captivated by the idea of searching for the ghost towns of Abruzzo. Delighted by the idea of an adventure, our hosts began making inquiries about our proposed odyssey.
Not on the map
The first village
...
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