Today finds us in the province of Abruzzo (AKA "Wild Abruzzo"), where my roots, and my blue eyes, originated. Many, many years ago. To get here from Umbria, we traveled mostly good roads, accompanied by lots of would-be Formula One race car drivers. Let me take a momento here to say a few words about driving in Italy. Don't do it unless you absolutely have to if you are over age fifty. Sound advice. The Italians are good drivers. They like to drive fast and they are impatient. This doesn't have to do with a sense of urgency to do anything, it's more about machismo. Even the women have machismo when it comes to the road. And, they are fearless. Can't really say that there are such places as "no passing zones". Should you be machismo enough to try this death-defying activity, be sure that you study up on Italian road signs and have a good and trusted person along to ride shot-gun. It helps a lot. So does the bottle of "Calm" that I purchase from my chiropractor.
Along the route from Umbria, through Marche and into Abruzzo, we must have driven through, easily, twenty long tunnels as we cut under the Grand Sasso mountains. We never cease to marvel at these engineering feats. The Italians think nothing of cutting huge holes into massive mountain rock. Why drive around them when you can simply drive through them anyway? We (at least I did - Joe was trying to please the Italian Formula Ones by keeping us some semblance of speed and not killing us) saw acres and acres of green grass before arriving at Rocca San Giovanni, our destination for the evening.
Rocca San Giovanni is close to the seashore. Think Cape Cod in the off-season. A few miles of bobby-trapped, narrow and circular switchbacky roads and just before you need CPR, the Adriatic Sea unfolds in her majesty. Yes, the water is really turquoise. We've only seen that once before, when we drove down the Amalfi Coast a few years ago. The seacoast is breathtaking. Kinda hard to describe but trust me, a really nice way to spend Mother's Day.
Trabacchi are restaurants typically found jutting out over the water in Abruzzo. Built high on stilts and not much else, they are used as gigantic fishing huts, poles and lines in the rear, making life easier for those who make their living from the sea. I had wanted an authentic trabaccho meal but alas, we were too late for lunch and too early for the traditional dinner at eight. Sorry, Bucket List, you lost. In lieu of that experience, we chose to have a seaside aperitvo followed by an earlier dinner of fresh fish, grilled to perfection in their altogether. Yep, whole fish, staring right up from the plate at 'cha. Mind the bones. Loved every bite.
So, today, we're on a long stretch of highway, hugging the coast as we head towards Martina Franca. The road sign just told us that we have left Molise and are now officially in Puglia. We're on our way to meet Domenica, our future hostess but before that, we have at least two hours and visits to several rest stops which are a world onto themselves. Far be it for any self-respecting Italian driver to be far from a place where you can not only use a toilet, get fuel, or buy food and wine! And yes, face masks are still required, as well as reminders of social distancing and hand sanitizing. There a visible signs everywhere that allow us to have a bit of insight as to the economic and social devastation in this country. But, there also is a great sense of pride and hope and perhaps a whole other story.
For now, the sun is shining and it's time to pull in to another rest stop. I'll never stop loving the rest stops - a little secret here......they also sell chocolate, so much and so inexpensive!
https://www.huffpost.com/entry/video-autostrada-rest-sto_b_12319868
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