ROSETO DEGLI ABRUZZI PREPARES FOR SUMMER

Abruzzo, Italy

On February 17, 2010 I stepped off the airplane in Roma with my one-year visa, my Italian husband and daughter and overweighted bags in tow. We have come to stay; to break away from the endless money chase which defined our life in Huntington Beach, CA.

After a two-and-a-half hour drive east from Rome, straight through the mountains, we arrive at Roseto degli Abruzzi on the Adriatic Sea Coast. Roseto is a beach town in the province of Teramo, in the region of Abruzzo. This town emerged many, many moons ago as a fishing village. The region of Abruzzo can be described as the road less traveled in Italy, so far as Americans are concerned. But this region gets its share of tourists from Italy, Germany and England. This entire region is made up predominately of sea-side towns of no more than 20,000 inhabitants and the largest city, Pescara, hovers right around 120,000.

Contrary to most people’s beliefs, Abruzzo gets cold in the winter and even has snow and skiing in the higher altitudes. But make no mistake this is an area that lives and dies by the summer months. The population more than doubles between the months of June and September and more than half of business’s revenues are generated in these three short months.

In the springtime this area is absolutely beautiful and not yet full of the tourists that flock to Italy’s east coast in the summer months. The rolling hills visible from the beach are checkered with wheat fields that are still deep green from the winter’s rain and are broken-up only by orderly rows of ancient olive trees. Above our tightly-packed beach town is the outline of a 300-year-old village of Montepagano, which still has about 800 inhabitants and tiny little roads carved out before cars necessitated more space.

As I walk along the white fine sand, I can feel the crunch of the thousands of small shells that are washed up from the Adriatic daily. The sea here is rich with razor clams, little clams called Telline, and the ugly weird looking crustaceans called Panocchia - or in local dialect called “Stracciavocc” which means rip mouth, because if you put them in your mouth facing the wrong way their tail spikes rip the sides of your mouth - but the taste is amazing so its worth the risk.

My view of the glass-like sea is only interrupted by periodic sea walls built from large black stones. On a clear day, I can see the outline of the not-so distant Croatian coast, which is only a two hour ferry ride from Pescara or Ancona.

In April all the the businesses that slumber in the winter are beginning to open their doors or prepare for the summer months. Ironically Italians, known for the creation and appreciation of so many beautiful things, are not the best at keeping things clean or aesthetically pleasing to the eye but they know that their life depends on the tourists being happy when they come to visit the beach. Now is the beginning of the spring time when the entire town seems to be in preparation mode. In groups of two or four, men are combing the sand to clear it of any debris that has accumulated there over the past 8 months. Entire families are scraping stools and depositing fresh shiny layers of paint on changing rooms and all of the playground toys are taking out of the heap in which they have been stored and being put together on the sand.

About every 300 feet you will find a different themed lido. There is the Caribbean-themed thatch roofed Aurora Lido, the ultra-chic and modern Ferretti Lido and the more traditional white-washed stucco Lido Smerelda to name a few of the dozens of privately-operated lidos that share the three miles of beachfront structures. Of course, each lido will have between 50-100 large umbrellas, called “Umbrelloni” and each will house 2-4 chairs for rent by the day, week, month, or entire summer for those who are lucky enough to live here or summer here. Every lido, like all good soccer fans, selects a color theme of distinct and bright colors to sport on its hundreds of umbrellas and chairs, most opt for stripes. A few months from now when the beach is covered, these colors are the only way to recognize which lido you are approaching.

These lidos are people’s home away from home during the summer months. This is where they will eat, rest, meet friends and the kids will play all day long on the elaborate playgrounds assembled on most of the lidos. People who select the same lido as you will be come your closest friends for the summer, but every good Rosetano will stroll down the beach stopping to visit their “extended family” at the other lidos. Since everybody has a designated umbrella we know exactly where to find them for a leisurely visit. Sometimes the venue changes and groups of people gather in ankle-deep water just chatting the day away while kids splash around them them in the bath-like water of the Adriatic.

Here, work is sporadic in the summer, at best. And, even if you are not a pensioner, stay-at-home parent, or an independent laborer, you still likely have the three hour daily lunch break and the entire month of August off so there is plenty of time for walking along the beach and socializing with your neighbors.

After a few months of assimilation here, one cannot help but recall the famous “Cheers” song, where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came” because that is really the hallmark of this region since there are no big towns and people here generally tend to stay put for a life-time. Many couples have been together since they were teenagers and its not uncommon to go to a restaurant at night and be served by a former school-mate. Its almost a guarantee that you will “bump into” 10-20 people you know each and every date. If they are good friends then it is your duty to ask them for coffee - no matter how many cups you may have had prior to that moment. Thank god there is always a bar no more than 15 feet away.

Since this region is not as trendy as Tuscany which Americans are always raving about, there are several rich discoveries that are still new to me. There is no Chianti here and I have yet to see spaghetti and meatballs on the menu, although its cousin spaghetti con pallottine presents itself for certain occasions (as is called for by tradition). I have never, never seen fettucini alfredo because it simply does not exist in Italy. What I have discovered here are foods like olive all’ascolana (meat-stuffed green olives that are breaded and fried!) and great wines like Montepulciano and Trebbiano, the latter of which only grows in Abruzzo. Just about a mile from where I live in south Roseto there is a vineyard owned by an old Contessa Mazzarossa and you can bring your own bottles and fill up from the spigot for less than the equivalent of $3.00 per liter. Of course, Montepulciano can cost over $100.00 per bottle since it is a rich red, medium bodied wine with enough gusto to compete with a Pinot Noir or Cabernet. And, Trebbiano is a dry white wine that has much more body than a pinot grigio, but is nothing like the more syrupy Chardonnay that is so near and dear to America’s heart.

I can see the remanence of the old ways here which still influence the way things get done here. People get hired because they are liked and not necessarily because they are the best man for the job necessarily. There are large villas that have been owned by the same rich family since the 1700s and there are a lot of unfinished public projects for one reason or another. But once you get past the disorganization and start focusing on the life-force of this city, you realize what a treasure this lifestyle is. Life is simple, cheap and calm. There is always time to stop and say hello to a friend and there are a million people who are willing to step in and do you a favor at a moment’s notice. Without the personal back-up, nothing gets done. To find an apartment here, you must know someone who knows someone with an open apartment. You must be vouched for. But, when you forget your wallet at a cafe, without hesitation its pay me next time, even if they aren’t a friend or even an acquaintance; just being a member of the community is enough. The people here are warm and always friendly. Things get done here but in their own pace and time. My favorite saying which I hear at least a half-dozen times per day is “Piano-Piano”, which means slowly slowly or in-time. That is the way things get done here; the way money is made and the way a new life is built. Now, I actually have time to take my quiet daily stroll on the calm adriatic beach before it is teeming with residents and visitors, alike. I am now a member of this special community.