Arriving

My good friend Pamela was my traveling companion for this trip.  She visited Italy previously and went to some of the major cities, but not to the mountains or Adriatic coast.  As was her usual traveling fare, she began to rest after boarding the train... she claims resting makes the traveling time pass quicker for her.  I, on the other hand, was in no hurry.  Half way through the trip I became so excited I woke her up and asked her why she wasn't taking photos!  Still not rested, she dismissed me with a wave and said that it was beautiful but she came for the people.  I know she thought I was nuts as I looked at the panoramic view of more than one small antiquated village built into the rocks, on the sides of mountains, snapping my photos.  I mean, just how may pictures can you take of landscape, rolling and rocky mountains with houses that are centuries old, expansive valleys below and greenery?  Clearly, I was a woman focused on her mission and exclaimed, "But, this is why I came..."

Bridge on the autostrada - taken from the train

Valley and town along the way in Abruzzo

It was obvious to those in our comfortable car that we were tourists, and we were stared at often!  There was only a handful of people, therefore, I was able to move about the car freely from one side to the other, inhaling the view.  I fondly remember one young man who heard my gasp after rounding a bend to a clearing - the site was awesome... a gigantic bridge on the autostrada that faded away as it stretched into  the distance.  With camera in hand I tried to get the image before the scattered brush along the tracks blocked my view.  He recognized my plight and very softly said, "Please, you can try from here" in English, as he offered his seat space to me.  At that moment I felt envious of his residence and of course, thanked him for his kindness. Italians are very warm and gracious and sometimes outwardly flirtatious!  I'm reminded of the man who stood outside our car's door, faced pressed to the plexiglass.  He stood there for quite some time attempting to look me squarely in the eye with each glance in his direction.  As I did so he winked several times and warmly smiled...

One of many valleys in Abruzzo  from the train

Ravine from Via Ventura in Roccamorice with      Lettomanopello looming in the background

I arrived in the city of Pescara with great anticipation for what was to come next.  Before leaving for Italy I was in close contact with Valentina Donatelli from Regione.Abruzzo.it.  She was a lovely woman who located Antonio DeAcetis, a professional driver who agreed to be our guide during our visit.  Antonio is from a town near Roccamorice, and although he doesn't speak English, his friend and co-worker Horst Fassbender does. We got off the train and looked around - we had absolutely no idea whom to look for, as we stood on the platform in a foreign country unsure of our next move.  We decided to venture downstairs to the terminal in hopes we would be found.  As we approached the stairs I spotted two men from the corner of my eye, holding a sign with my name printed on it.  "That's ME!"  I shrieked,, and  they both looked in my direction and smiled, realizing they were successful at finding us.  I immediately began talking to the man holding the sign, unaware he might not be the one who speaks English.  He wasted no time advising me he didn't through the motion of his hands on a steering wheel.  He was Antonio, our driver.  Horst, our interpreter, introduced himself and Antonio to us, and after the introductions and a few moments of brief awkwardness, we headed out of the station towards Antonio's car. It didn't take us long to get comfortable and acquainted with each other.  I can say with certainty - they felt as comfortable with us as we did with them.  I told them why it was important for me to take the train to Pescara amd go to Roccamorice.  These gentle men were genuinely warm, comsiderate and charming.  They were at our disposal and inquired about our itinerary.  In the flash of a moment I realized any agenda I might have had was either left at Roma Termini, or it flew right out one of the train's open windows.  I explained that we were there for the experience and since they live there to please show us what they love and think of as important.  From that point forward they did just that... Antonio, who is quiet and soft-spoken is from Caramanico Terme - a beautiful town with natural thermal healing spas.  Years ago he drove the school bus to Pescara and back.  Horst, who went to school in Pescara joked about how difficult it was for him to board the bus during the frigid winter mornings.  He resides in San Valentino, is of German descent and has lived in Italy since he was a toddler.  His stepfather is Italian and that is how he came to live there.  Horst is warm, considerate and professional, not to mention linguistically gifted in 3 languages.  Although he claimed English is not his strong suite, I was impressed and could tell he was flattered when I told him so.  Both men are employed at the Hotel LaReserve in Caramanico.  Antonio drives tourists and Horst is an interpreter.  Their employer closes for a month or two this time of year so they were temporarily out of work.  I quickly grew fond of them both, and I feel we were blessed to have them available to us during our visit to Abruzzo.  The fates were clearly on our side... Onward to Roccamorice - The trek up to LaRocca was filled with conversation and laughter. I thoroughly enjoyed our new friends, and had no difficulty communicating with Horst.  In awe of the many little villages snuggled into the mountainsides, I requested several times to stop  and take photos.  Reaching Roccamorice was just as I had imagined - narrow winding roads that seemed more like paths at times.  They were thrilled because of the weather, and told us we were very fortunate.  Normally this time of year is quite cold and rainy, but it was a beautiful brisk and not too chilly day, with a high in the low to mid 50's.  The sun was shining and made everything look so alive.  Above, the snowy peaks of the Majella and Gran Sasso glistened, and I knew I'd just driven into heaven.  As I breathed in Italy I confided to Horst, "This is the reason I came..."

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