Late afternoon. High 80s. Hot, humid and sunny. Perhaps not the best time to get out on my bike, but quarter-til-five on a hot day is better than quarter-til-one. In the late day sun, the rice growing along the east side of the bike path was brilliant green topped by a deep sky that hints of a coming thunderstorm. That green stops me every time.
Ahh, my wonderful sister (yes, she really is), always mindful of the details, asked me to update my map to show where the island of Ischia is. You can now find it on my map page: https://www.kunstdame.com/map/
Ischia is a little island two thirds of the way down the west coast of Italy, just off from Naples, or “Napoli“. It’s where I recently spent 5 days lounging in the hot sun and eating good food. I posted a LOT of photos and stories about Ischia! It may be your next vacation hot spot… (literally.)
La Chiesa della Madonna del Soccorso – The Church of the Madonna of Help is located at the edge of a prominent cliff in Forio, at the west edge of the island of Ischia. I had seen it in the daytime from the window of the bus crowded with tourists, but was in no position to stop and go there.
The other night, however, after our prosciutto, pizza and limoncello, Glenda’s friend Ciro, our host for the evening, took us for a wild drive to Forio. (Only one that knows the roads drives like that! Ischia is NOT a place I’d recommend renting a car while on vacation. Leave those roads to the locals!) I was thrilled when Ciro stopped at the church, all lit up for the evening. I had the luxury of wandering around and shooting for as long as I wished. (Unfortunately, they were all hand-held night shots, so they’re “soft”. Still some fun images.)
One of the government buildings in the town of Forio.
Ciro and Glenda at Chiesa del Soccorso.
Sant’Angelo is a little village on the south side of the island of Ischia. The island bus will drop you off at an upper parking lot and from there you must walk down the hill to the village, or take one of the golf cart taxis. The rabbit-warren-style “roads” are the width of one of these carts plus a person pressed up against the wall as the cart passes. At the shoreline, an isthmus extends out from the center of the village, to a peak of land that once housed a monastery and defense tower. Today, at the base of the hill, one finds restaurants, shops, hotels and apartments. I noticed a rickety wooden platform suspended from the side of the cliff, but have no idea where it leads.
A very enterprising man and his wife set up a juice stand precisely where the bus drops off its passengers. On a hot day, there’s nothing more inviting. You don’t tell the man what you want; he tells you what you should have: a mixed juice of fresh oranges and lemons grown on the island. He slices the fruit, presses it into a glass, adds a dollop of granita iced sugar syrup, adds a spoon so you can stir it up and charges 2 Euro. I drank two, at the beginning and the end of my visit to Sant’Angelo.
Some people enjoyed the beach by catching little pan fish.
This woman kept hiding from me when she saw my camera. She was on a balcony above, justing peering over the edge, then turned to tend the black socks.
Up high and to the east of town was the Casa Rosa, another of the island’s thermal pool spas.
On a knoll above town, only reached by foot or cart, is the Chiesa San Michele. Parishioners were inside at an evening mass.
Castello Aragonese – The Aragonese Castle of Ischia
The castle dominates the skyline and view on the east side of the island of Ischia. Omnipresent as the background, it sits on its own islet, connected to the main island by a 15th century stone bridge. Its history is too complex to try to repeat in this blog post, but here are three links to photo and information sites:
http://www.italyheaven.co.uk/campania/ischia/ischiaponte.html
http://www.castelloaragonese.it/
http://www.castellodischia.it/index_en.html
This tiled sign is in Spanish and makes me wonder about its history.
Inside the dome of the Church of Santa Maria delle Grazie.
A remaining portion of a Giottesque fresco from the 14th century, located in the nobles’ crypt beneath the Cathedral. There are olive trees and gardens amongst the castle buildings.
One of the two most bizarre features of the Castello Aragonese is the Nun’s Cemetery, located beneath the church. The bodies of deceased nuns were placed on chairs carved out of the stone that included basins with drain holes. The bodies would slowly decompose and the bodily fluids were gathered in special vases below the drains. “This macabre custom was based on the need to highlight the utter uselessness of the body since it is simply a container for the spirit; refusal of individual burial also underlined the same conviction. Each day the remaining nuns would go to pray and meditate on death and since they passed several hours of the day in such an unhealthy environment, they often contracted serious illnesses, which sometimes proved fatal… The dried skeletons were later heaped in the ossuary.”
“The Convent of Our Lady of Consolation was founded in 1575 and hosted about 40 nuns of the Clarisse Order. Most of the nuns were firstborn daughters from noble families, destined to a cloistered life from childhood in order to leave the family inheritance to the firstborn male. The convent was abolished in 1810.”*
*From the official Castle brochure.
The other disturbing feature of the castle was a small museum of torture devices, presenting both the implements and illustrations explaining their uses. I’m not a squeamish person, but that display made me wince and made me wonder how we humans can do such things to each other. (“Waterboarding” was one of the things presented in the museum of torture. Hmmm.)
There are vast tunnels and passageways throughout the mountain. It must have been quite a bustling fortress.
This view reminded me of the American Southwest and Georgia O’Keeffe’s paintings.
A view from the castle, high above the port of Ischia.
One would think that in a coastal town on an island in the Tyrrhenian Sea it’d be possible to find a good meal of seafood. I was on a mission to satisfy a craving for a plate of mixed, grilled, fresh fish. I found it, and it was perfection.
It was 2:00 p.m. and I was hungry. I strolled the walk along the string of dockside restaurants and read the menus. The dozen restaurants were empty of patrons, and yet of them all, only one had a waiter that came out to the walk to greet me: “O Purticciull”. I told him I was checking out all the menus before I made a decision, then walked on. I walked to the wharf end, and turned around and went back. (The personal touch wins points with me.)
I sat facing the marina, the small local boats, the luxury yachts and the cruise ships. I ordered my mixed, grilled fish and the waiter (I didn’t get his name) suggested a small salad, a “quartino” of white wine and some bottled water. Yes, exactly! I sat on that sunny day with my journal, at ease and breezy. When the waiter arrived with my meal I knew I had selected the right place. Heaven on a plate!
The swordfish, squid and scampi were fresh and grilled perfectly. Delicate, moist, tender. Every bite was savored. Absolutely what I had been looking for!
If you find yourself on the island of Ischia, reserve a meal for O Purticcull, and say thank you to the waiter for me.
http://www.porticciullo.it/index.htm
The command came by e-mail from my Italian instructor back home:
“Non dimenticarti di mangiare il famoso ‘coniglio all’ischitana’ accompagnato di un buon vino dell’isola. Ischia e’ famosa anche per il suo vino. Divertiti!”
Translation: “Don’t forget to eat the famous Ischian-style Rabbit, accompanied by a good wine from the island. Ischia is famous also for its wine. Enjoy!”
I did, and I did. The rabbit was fantastic! (I even ate it off of Glenda’s plate since it wasn’t her thing.) Coniglio all’Ischitana showed up as the main offering for dinner at the hotel. Delicious. Just a little spicy. Nice sauce around the meat. (I questioned its being served with french fries and over-cooked baby peas, but hey…) The Rabbit was preceded by prosciutto and melon, then pennoni pasta with rabbit sauce and a fantastic Risotto ai Frutti di Bosco (risotto – rice – cooked with berries and a creamy, cheesy base.) The meal was finished with dessert of a wickedly yummy Napoletano sfolgliatelle pastry. I had only planned to “taste” the dessert, but that plan fell through.
The berries lent a beautiful violet color to the risotto, not a color I usually see on my dinner plate, but very nice with the red-orange.
I was so pleased to see the rabbit listed on the menu! That was one evening I wasn’t going to eat “out”.
Add to this good meal all the other good things I ate while on the Island, such as prosciutto-wrapped fresh figs and melon, followed by the one-and-only, true Napoletano Margherita D.O.C. pizza.
And if only I had a kitchen available, I could bring some of this fresh seafood home and make my own dinner! Displays frequently featured lobster, sea urchins, mussels and countless fish both recognized and unrecognized.
One can also marvel at the pastries displayed temptingly along the main tourist travel route.
OR, drink your dessert and enjoy a little sip of the local Limoncello, much of it homemade. If you’re not one for lemon, there’s Meloncello, Kiwicello and a dozen other variations.
9 Agosto – Journal Entry
Sunday night. Back home in Milano. Silence & solitude. Ready to be here and it feels like it’s been ages! I guess that’s the sign of a good vacation. But I tired of the tourist crowds. I tired of the heat and sweat, although I made everything possible out of that trip. I shot some wonderful photos. Had some amazingly full conversations, in Italian. (“Full” for this stage in my ability.) Had some fantastic food. Shared warm smiles with a few people. Actually relaxed in ways I haven’t before (sunbathing at a resort!) And I enjoyed some wide-ranging chats in getting to know Glenda.
I’m glad I went. Glad for the time, energy and expense. Glad to have added to my experience of Italy.
Yesterday, my (our) last day, I wandered alone, had the best meal in two months, and explored the “un-beaten path”. That’s what I learned in Venice last year: get off the main drag. Get away from the rutted route of the tourist hordes! It’s when I simply step off onto a side street, neither advertised nor polished, that I find some sort of interesting gem and a more realistic picture of local life. That feels much more true and full of heart. It’s what I seek out with each new place. I had that yesterday and now feel especially satisfied.
I walked opposite the flow of tourism, away from high-end boutiques, shops selling flip-flops and souvenirs, and subsequent gelato vendors. I strolled the back road, enjoyed a waterside park and its bench alone with my journal. Got almost out to the lighthouse. Took a mere-shoulder-wide, cobbled path up, up, up the hill and found private villas, a tiny church and a calico cat that wouldn’t let me stop petting her. And after coming back down the hill and onto a little water’s-edge stret, I entered a fish market and watched the fishmonger cut 1/2″ slices off a swordfish tail-end that was a least a foot in diameter.
All of that is Ischia!
And, in my solo, side-street wandering, I shot a photo that’s one of my favorites so far! At the Coast Guard office of all places… Gorgeous, salmon-colored walls, a stairway, wrought iron and light from above. Beautiful! That’s the reason to wander away!
9 Agosto 2009 – Sunday. On the Northbound Train
“The Full Italian Experience”
Fellini would do a good job with this. Train ride home to Milano. (Yes, please!) Left Napoli just before 1:00. Arrived in Rome at about 2:00. Japanese passengers 1 seat away just got robbed, on board, of their wallets. (Gypsies got on the train and made a commotion about seat assignments, then took advantage of the disarray they had caused.) Afraid of further loss, the Japanese cable-locked their huge suitcase, IN the aisle-way, to their seat armrest. Spanish travelers just got on the train and couldn’t get past the big suitcase. The conductor came on board and told the theft-victims there was nothing the local authorities could do about the wallets. He asked the Japanese man to stow the suitcase at the end of the rail car. (Right! They just lost everything else. Now stow the bag out of sight and surveillance?) The baby next to me is screaming. Her Napolitana mother remembered her own Coca-cola and sandwich, but forgot the baby’s bottle.
Three hours to go.
(Written while on the train, but no internet connection available, so this is posted from the comfort of my wonderful apartment in Milano. Ahhh. Home!)
The island of Ischia (“EES-kee-uh”) is a 45-minute boat ride off the coast from Napoli. A couple hundred passengers were seated auditorium-style in the boat as it bounced across the water westward. Clearly, several passengers had left their sea-legs behind and were having a hard time of the not-really-so-rough waters.
We arrived at 3:15 with a hot, bright afternoon sun overhead. This was clearly a resort, beach town with bathing suits and pareo-wraps standard costume for the women, and shorts and polos for the men. I’ve never seen so much skin so darkly tanned in one place, and it contrasts so nicely with white linen!
Our balcony view:
Colorful, charming and photogenic, Ischia grooms itself for the tourist. Thermal baths and spa treatments can be followed by a good meal and a stroll through town, perusing gift shops that stay open ‘til midnight. We ate the meal provided at the hotel (which was quite acceptable), then wandered along the waterfront on the large cobblestone walk between fish houses and luxury yachts. We found our way to the main street, where we sampled Limoncello in one shop then the next.
Strolling along the waterfront, restaurants lively with patrons:
As midnight rolled around and we ran out of steam for the day, we backtracked to our starting point, then hopped onto a bus packed tight with tourists. It was just a short ride up the cliffside road to our hotel. We picked up our heavy, brass-fobbed room key at the front desk, then fell into our beds for a good sleep.
A few links: