ASCOOPOFHEAVEN
Deep in Italy’s south, Calabria is the ‘ice cream capital of the world’ — and utterly irresistible, says MARTIN SYMINGTON
GooD thing we had hired a Fiat 500, otherwise we would never have made it into Pizzo, let alone parked. The little fortress town high on a cliff dropping to the sparkling Tyrrhenian Sea is a tumble of arches, stone houses, packed piazzas and passageways hung with pungent salamis. It also claims to have invented tartufo and so declares itself ‘ice-cream capital of the world’. What could be more Italian than that?
So where were all the Italophile Brits? In Tuscany and Umbria, of course; Sicily too, and the increasingly voguish Puglia on the heel. But here in vibrant Calabria, with its turquoise coves and forested hills, my wife and I barely met a single compatriot in a week.
Calabria is the toe of the boot, furthest extremity of Italy’s deep south — the Mezzogiorno or ‘midday’ as Italians call it, in reference to the intense noontime sun.
Most of our fellow passengers on the flight from Stansted to Lamezia were returning Italian families from this region who live in the UK. We, on the other hand, were first-timers planning to split our stay between a coastal hotel and an olive farm deep in the hinterland.
Pizzo was a stop on our way to Capo Vaticano, where we had booked into a basic three-star hotel on the clifftop. This region has no deluxe accommodation, but it does five-star beaches and views.
Below us was a sandy cove of clear, turquoise-blue water dotted with rocky outcrops. Even better, the sand was not colonised by serried ranks of serviced sun loungers, as most Italian beaches are (as if all the chaos of Italy can be compensated for by strict discipline on the beach). Rather, Calabria’s beaches are free-for-alls where we would stroll, spread our towels and bathe at will.
FRoM Ricardi restaurant next to the lighthouse on the tip of Vaticano headland we could make out the hazy cone of volcanic Aeolian island Stromboli on the horizon. In the twilight, we watched lights begin to twinkle across the Strait of Messina on Sicily’s northern tip. Then we walked along the beach, bare feet splashing in the surf, under a moonless sky. Forget five stars, this was a billion-star night.
The tract between here and the boot tip is known to Italians as the ‘Costa degli Dei’ — the Coast of the Gods. To my mind, the scenery rivals the Amalfi Coast or the Cinque Terre, so the absence of millionaire yachts and swanky villas is puzzling. So, too, is Calabria’s soubriquet as ‘the poor man’s Sicily’.
The answer lies in history, which hangs heavy over this region. Physical isolation, war, outbreaks of malaria and a succession of ea r t hquakes ( i ncl udi ng a devastating shake in 1905) all led to emigration and poverty. Nor can Cal ab r i a escape the consequences of quite recent f eudalism, and the ruthless ‘ndrangheda’ local mafia.
Pointing the Fiat’s exhaust pipe at the coast, we headed next for the dark green interior. The hilltop villages are not architectural treasures as i n Tuscany, but again the scenery and views are dazzling.
We corkscrewed up through glossy citrus groves and forests of pine and chestnut, to a windy plateau where goats foraged on lavender and wild thyme. This was La Sila National Park from where we could see, at the same time, both the Tyrrhenian and Ionian seas to west and east.
Best of all, we stayed at Le Carolee, the workingg olive-growing estate near Pianopoli whose owners, the Gaetano family, supplement their income by taking in tourists. The 18th-century house with its courtyard and round tower sits at the edge of a steep escarpment.
There is a cool swimming pool whose glassy expanse mirrors the mountains and silvery trees.
CICADAS sizzled during the afternoons we spent dozing in the shade, before evening walks along slack loops of dusty tracks through the olive groves. Then there was dinner, a joint effort between matronly MariaAntonietta and her stocky husband, Federico.
Almost everything was homeproduced, from the extra vergine oi l we dri zz l e d over hot pepperoncini peppers and ndula smoked sausage for antipasto, to the creamy artichoke risotto and braised lamb with sweet red onions anda aubergines which followed. Does t hi s c uci na povera (peasant cuisine) of Calabria match the best from Umbria or Lazio? It l eaves them in i ts wake, we decided on our final evening, as Federico poured us tots of his bright yellow liquore di bergamino digestif (homemade, of course).
This region may not always have been a chosen land, but this was a moment to toast the splendour of Calabria’s landscapes, the exuberance of the food and the open-heartedness of its people.
TRAVEL FACTS
LONG Travel (01694 722193, long
travel.co.uk offers a week split between Le Carolee and the three-star Costa Azzurra from £590 per person including half board, flights to Lamezia and car hire. An overnight stay and a week’s parking at the Stansted Radisson Blu (01279 683 500,
radissonblu.co.uk) from £170.