Peschici + Hotel Orchidea (and a Bit of Gargano) Part 1

PESCHICI 2005 + HOTEL ORCHIDEA (and a bit of Gargano)

It had been more than 20 years since I last set foot in the Gargano. This year's return tastes of "the way we were", of "the good old days", of "how young and bold we were back then". Indeed, in 1982 my children were small. In those days we stayed in a holiday residence at San Menaio (municipality of Vico Gargano), a few kilometres before Peschici. But even then the picturesque hilltop town was our favourite destination for every outing. And this year I went back to it with great nostalgia and poetry, more mature too, and able to appreciate these enchanted, magical places, and above all its people, frank and hospitable; to savour a way of life still very much bound to tradition, positively small-town, very Italian, simple, exquisitely southern, and to the customs of this land of olive trees, sea, pine woods and lots of sun, the sun of the ancient Dauni.

So I will tell you above all about Peschici, whose old love I have rediscovered, a deep-rooted complicity of emotions and feelings. I remember unusual scents, a musical language (for many - but fortunately not all - the hard Foggia dialect in its Gargano variants), distinctive accents and dialects. And to enter their hearts and the Peschiciano atmosphere better, but above all to understand it better, I bought a serious Italian-Foggiano dictionary (with phonetic pronunciation) and a handbook of characteristic dialect phrases. Because here in the Gargano the dialect rules, in every social class, with no distinction of wealth or education. A bit like in Venice.

In fact, the dialect is considered the language of the town's aristocracy! A great help with pronunciation (and not only that...) was given to me by the good and very likeable Emilio, rhodian by birth - that is, from Rodi Garganico -, almost a lawyer and logistics manager for this summer at the Hotel Orchidea, which I will discuss at length "below". Of course I made a point of visiting the surroundings of Peschici, as if this cheerful fishing town were their hub: Vieste (by now a large town); Rodi Garganico (with the traces of ancient and not-so-distant wealth, fine palazzi as evidence); the Tremiti (some call them "four rocks in the middle of the sea, over-exploited for tourism", forgetting their splendid seabeds and pine woods, but above all that priceless archaeological treasure which is the abbey-fortress on the island of San Nicola, which alone justifies a trip "to...

Tremiti", as they say here); the highly protected and wild Foresta Umbra (a slice of Trentino in the deep south of Italy). Special mention deserves San Giovanni Rotondo with the much-venerated new Saint, Padre Pio of Pietrelcina, and the jewel of Monte Sant'Angelo, above Mattinata, and the nautical capital Manfredonia. San Giovanni Rotondo did not particularly excite me (it was predictable), except for the very many testimonies of Padre Pio's work. A journey of faith, charity and love that has no equal in Italy, and perhaps in Europe. And after all, the sad merchandising (as it is called today) that had been announced to me, that is the commercial exploitation of the place, is still far from the shameful peaks of Lourdes and other holy places of Christianity such as the mystical, thoroughly international Assisi! Of course the pilgrims and the curious are many.

Those who have their photograph taken beside the saint's relics (very numerous) look very ridiculous... but that's how the world goes and... so does faith. Monte Sant'Angelo (20 km from San Giovanni R. and about 80 km from my beloved Peschici) is a rare and splendid example of a medieval hillside town (we are at about 800 metres), perched high, well maintained, well organised, with breathtaking views and adequate tourist facilities. But here too the famous Sanctuary of San Michele Arcangelo is the main reason for such uniqueness. A church inside an enormous grotto carved out of the rock, underground, with crypts and stairways descending majestically into the depths, rich in remains and first-rate artistic heritage, with a mystic-religious atmosphere that truly grips you deep in your soul. A spiritual, architectural and archaeological journey that justifies a day's excursion.

But let us come to Peschici and its (I would almost say also our, that is, of the pampered and coddled guest clients) Hotel Orchidea. (CONTINUES IN PART TWO, same subject)