Moving to or even visiting Italian villages is a unique and sometimes perplexing experience. Expect people to stare (and I mean really stare) as you walk down the street, without letting it give you a complex. No, you are not funny looking or strange. They just don’t see many outsiders, and curiosity is one thing people don’t lack!
There is but one road leading to the isolated town, our summer village. A place little touched by time, by technology’s progress, or by the frenetic pace of getting ahead. Thirteen years had passed since our last visit. And though fewer and older, the inhabitants somehow seem to remain much the same. Many of old and wrinkled pass on, while others take their place. Different, yet the same. With the same lines of suffering and hardship. The same bleak look of hopelessness.
Our village nestles between the rolling hills of Abruzzo’s Apennine mountains and the Adriatic coast. Covered with vineyards and olive groves, with snow-capped mountains in the background! Abruzzo truly is beautiful, and we feel blessed to live in such an area! Largely an agriculture region, it’s famous for its Montepulciano wine. And also for its long beautiful beaches, gorgeous mountains, and great cuisine.
We love this nation, although of course like any place, Italy has its share of negatives and downfalls. But somehow, when we look back over the years, all we see are the people we’ve grown to love. The beauty of the land and culture. And the thread of God’s unwavering faithfulness woven through from beginning to end..
After a month long absence Hubby and I are at long last home! (HOME. Isn’t that a beautiful word?) To say that we missed it would be a gross understatement. We spent all of September in the States, traveling a total of 13,202 miles!
We’ve had thieves strike. Twice. The first time real thieves, but the second were sort of fake thieves. As many of you know, we have a summer home. And in our absence thieves got in, taking our bedroom mirror and a small step ladder.