I Tre Gufi . . . The Three Owls

Having just completed my drive through La Strada Rotto, I decided it was time for some liquid refreshment. Arriving in Pisciotta was interesting; I barely blinked and I was already out of town and doing a three or so point turn on the narrow road to retrace my recent path and locate parking. I found a piccolo parcheggio (small parking lot) immediately on my right and pull in. While it had three levels, there were only about six or so spaces per level and maneuvering around the turns proved to be “not very possible”.  But I managed to make it work and the car was now parked.

Resolving one problem immediately revealed the next as I could not determine how to pay for the parking, as there were no machines or attendants. Fortunately, a gentleman returning to his car came along that very moment. Once again in part Italian, part English and part charades, I managed to communicate with him and learned that I would need to walk into the main piazza and pay for the parking at the bar and get a biglietto (ticket) to place in my car. Until I returned, how would they know that I was planning to pay, I wondered? So, not wanting to get a ticket along with another opportunity to visit Posteitaliane to pay it,  I hightailed it over there to buy the ticket, returning with the strangest looking parking receipt I had ever seen. It was issued on the honor system. I paid for the amount to time I thought I would need, but I would need to indicate the time my parking began by filling in little circles with a pen on each of the one hour tickets, just like taking the SAT exam.

Pleased with that I had navigated yet another interesting Italian experience, I headed off to do my thing . . . explore the town and discover the best it had to offer. As I exited the piccolo parcheggio and strolled to the main piazza, I could see why we almost missed it completely. The town was on two hills with the main road (and only road that could be traveled by car) cutting through the middle. To the left was the main piazza and to the right was a staircase – yes, only a staircase that led to the other side of town, with tables from a restaurant lining the beautiful stairs. It was so inviting, but I held out, opting for the Centro Storico instead.

img_7830

I spotted the sign for Centro Storico (the historic section) when I went to the bar to pay for the parking, so I knew it was to the left beyond the piazza.

The main piazza was mostly in the shade at this time of the day and all of the locals were gathered in various groups talking, sharing stories and smiling. I never fail to enjoy these Norman Rockwell-esque scenes I frequently encounter in the small towns of the Mezzogiorno.

img_1136

As I neared the back of the piazza, the gradual upward slop abruptly ended upon entering the Centro Storico. Just before the climb up, I came upon this beautiful Osteria, but sadly it was not yet time for lunch.

img_7753

The views off to the left of it were stunning, and I had not even climbed a staircase yet (note, I did not say hill)! I could see the peninsula of Palinuro jutting out into the sea.

img_1138

Then, I began my initial ascent into the beautiful historic area. I walked all around and did my usual “official town photographer” stint, enjoying every second.

The initial climb up was a bit steep and I encountered small, tank-like vehicles with actual tank treads that were used to make deliveries to restaurants and shops up the staircases. Very. Interesting.

At the one edge of the Centro Storico, I were rewarded with a gorgeous view for my efforts. Little did I realize, the best was yet to come.

img_7784

As I climbed the last remaining stairs, I discovered the pinnacle and crown jewel of the entire Centro Storico – I Tre Gufi!! Our jaws dropped as we took in the amazing view and I felt so lucky that I had explored before choosing my lunch destination. Before my eyes lay a stunning “bird’s eye” view of the beach town portion of Pisciotta. As many ancient towns often do, Pisciotta had both a coastal town and a hill town to escape to whenever the Saracens, or any other unwelcome breed decided to ravage their seaside towns and women.

img_7757

Once again, I found my magic place in yet another beautiful town as I ascended onto the outdoor terrace of I Tre Gufi feeling privileged as though I were entering the Gates of Heaven.

I lingered over a very long lunch of fish, roasted potatoes and a wonderful arugula salad with parmesan and walnuts and finished pranzo with an incredible light and moist lemon cake, wishing I would never, ever have to leave! By now, I realized that I was taking longer than I probably covered for parking. “Non ti preoccupare, nessun problema” (don’t worry, no problem), the owner told me. “La polizia sta anche mangiando il pranzo ora, in modo da non disturbare la vostra macchina.” (The police are also eating lunch now, so they won’t bother your car)

Oh, and did I forget to mention there was plenty of wine flowing? I would need that for facing the broken road on the way home! Va bene . . . I could certainly say d’accordo to that!!

Ciao!

Giovanna (Gio)

La Strada per Pisciotta (The Road to Pisciotta)

In my quest to visit all of the towns along the Cilento Coast, on this particular day I chose Pisciotta, a hill town a bit south of me. By the map, Pisciotta appears to be just down the coast from Ascea, a beach town near us. Conveniently, I identified a fairly direct route, which is rare considering all of the mountains. I had discussed the possibility of driving to Pisciotta via this route with my Italian friends, and a concerned look crossed their faces as they cautioned me that “la strada è pauroso” (the road is scary).

As I sat at Isola Verde having breakfast, I pondered my options. Shall I take a chance on the more direct, but scary route, or drive inland and pick up the SP 430 to drive way out of my way around huge mountains and then out to the coast south of my destination, only to drive north quite a distance. I bravely opted for the “scary route” because it would take me on “new turf” which I always prefer.

The beginning of my route was familiar as I drove to Ascea, but as I got to the edge of town, I took a turn away from the sea. In Ascea, the road directly along the sea, ends at Baia Tirrena, a cliff that juts out to the edge of water. The road was small (narrow) as I climbed up above the town, but it remained on a relatively straight path with some wiggles along the coast.

Suddenly, the road took a sharp turn to the left as I headed away from the coast to follow the side of a hill inward as a valley jutted in from the sea. As I turned, I first looked across to the other side and instantly decided not to believe what I thought I saw, because as I quickly glanced into the upcoming hairpin curve, I could see this already “small” road narrowed significantly AND a couple of vehicles were on their way toward me from the other side. Based on the size of one vehicle and the road below, I was not sure we could safely pass each other. With a steep hill on the left and an equally steep drop-off on my right, there was nowhere to go. This could involve backing up for quite a distance until a place in the road is reached that is passable. And I am basically NO GOOD backing up hills with a stick shift. So, this is what our friends meant . . .

I allowed myself to absorb what I saw for a split second. There was a visible gash in the road for quite a distance. It appeared that half the road was gone! Most likely, some of this already extremely narrow roadway had fallen down into the valley below and the road was in the process of being repaired. All of this right before the point where the large hairpin jut into the valley is over and we would be back out to the edge of the cliff approaching the sea again. I just couldn’t even begin to imagine how two vehicles would pass . . .

My mind came back to the present as I was bottoming out in the inside of the valley in the middle of the hairpin curve and I could now see the rather large (by Italian standards) black SUV barreling towards me towing a small boat!! We each slowed down and pulled to our respective edges of the road a bit. By this time, I was on a straight section of the road and we both made it without further maneuvering. I breathed a sigh of relief. Now, all I had to worry about was “la strada rotto” (the broken road). A good Italian driver does not allow his or her mind to be bombarded with multiple stresses at once.

Immediately, I find myself facing two cement pillars in the center of the road. Now, had I a moment to think logically, I would have realized that the black SUV that just passed by me fit through this, but the pillars were just close enough together to cause concern and bring me to a near-halt. Slowly, I entered the construction zone, without a clue about what I was about to encounter. This mini-adventure lasted about one kilometer, although it felt much longer at the time as I was well aware how much more “interesting” it would become should another vehicle come along while I was in the zone. Also, it’s important to note that as I entered this area, I had no idea how long this would continue, which just added to the “excitement”.

Along my construction adventure, I encountered a few workers who had to move some equipment so I could continue, and a long area of the road that was passable by only one car as they worked to carve the road further into the hillside to compensate for the no longer existent original right lane that had fallen down the mountain. I, fortunately did not encounter another car. I was quite relieved to make it out of “the zona” and by the time I arrived at Pisciotta, I had already decided to return home the same way!

Stay tuned for my beautiful day in Pisciotta!

Ciao,

Giovanna