A Little Bit of Paradise

“La casa di campagna dei miei nonni materni, in questi giorni la sto pulendo e mettendo a posto.“

“My maternal grandparents’ house, during these lockdown days, I am cleaning it and putting it back in order.”

Giocondo, beloved by so many Insider’s Italy travelers, is hard at work. He begins each day by reporting to me what the weather conditions are, and where the wind blows from. Often he tells me what he will be preparing for lunch, but notes that this may require a successful foraging. He always has a back-up plan if, say, wild arugula or wild asparagus cannot be located.

Then he sets off on foot for the house, which is a 30 minute walk above his own home, in Furore on the Amalfi coast.

There are steps, and then there is a path. And then he arrives at the house.

“My maternal grandfather was Tommaso Gentile di Praiano, a fisherman. He married my nonna, Giuseppa Imperati, an only child, a peasant, and the owner of this house and the adjacent vineyard.

After the marriage, the couple lived in Giuseppa’s house, and Tomasso took over the cultivation of the vineyard.

Their first child was born, Giuseppe Gentile. The first World War began, and my grandfather, to avoid being called up, moved to New York where his brother Giocondo Gentile was living. He was obliged to remain there for seven years, while Giuseppa looked after their son and her two elderly parents.

On his return, Tomasso made up for lost time. He and Giuseppa became parents to eight more children, three more boys and five girls. Meanwhile he worked on the vineyard which became more and more extensive and prolific. His cellar was a masterpiece of vernacular construction, with a north outlook, a perfect microclimate and ideal natural ventilation.

The second World War came, and Giuseppe was called up for service.

He fought for eight years, and never understood why, or for what, but he survived and returned, and swore that he would never again leave his childhood home and vineyard.

Throughout the worst days of War, even, there was never hunger here. The property was self supporting, with the vineyard, olive trees, a fruit orchard, a cow, chickens and rabbits.

But in 1944, a nocturnal aerial bombing on September 8 terrified the sleeping family but no one was killed. The bombs were meant to land in the sea but missed their aim. They entirely destroyed the vineyards and all of the season’s wines.

I came into the world in 1956. Often my mother and I would walk up the hill to visit my grandparents and my uncle Giuseppe, my mother’s oldest brother. He married but never had children. His wife was Raffaella Milo, illiterate and extremely intelligent. One evening, I was with her gazing at the stars and she said, as an airplane went past : ‘Look Giocondo, mamma mia, they are destroying our atmosphere, there will be disastrous consequences in the future.’ Of course she was prophetic and understood that man’s balance with nature was already unsettled. She was a woman of the land, a tremendous animal lover. She was immaculately clean but never took a shower. She bathed in an old tub.

All of my mother’s other siblings had children, on average five of them, and made their homes here in Furore or in Tuscany, or outside of Rome in Anzio and Nettuno.

This house was inherited by Giuseppe, who was childless, who gifted his share to his cousin, Massimiliano Gentile; to Aunt Gilda, to Aunt Giovanna, and then to my mother, Maria Felicia, who in turn passed her share to my brother, Giuseppe Cavaliere.

I would like to buy the shares of Massimilano, Aunt Gilda and Aunt Giovanna. My brother does not want to give up his share. Never mind. I still have dreams for what I would love to do with this property.

Speculators and arsonists have torched it, and the vegetation has been put to the test, but with love and care it can all be nursed back to vigorous good health. The property location is something out of this world, and from it you feel at one with the sky, the earth and the sea. There are no sounds at all except the rooster and the song of the birds.

The vineyard is of course no more, but I want to bring it back. If we do not look after the terraced ledges which our ancestors made and then tended with such care and such craft, they are very quickly reclaimed by the live oak, the holm oak, brambles and the ash tree.

I have no photographs of how the vineyard must have been but can imagine it very easily. It must have been a little bit of paradise. Several varieties of white bacca and red bacca, and then table grapes. The table grapes would be uva pane, which are very firm and delicious to eat, well suited to being conserved under spirits, delicious on a cold winter’s day. And then the orchard. So much fruit ! Many varieties of figs, including some especially suited for drying. Peaches, plums, hazelnuts, walnuts and uva appassita, grapes suited for drying.”

Giocondo has finished his story and is off for lunch, down the hillside, down the hundreds of steps.

This morning he found wild asparagus, and has at home half a fragrant cipolla pasquarella. And his own wine. Very soon he will prepare lunch, spaghetti con i asparagi.

Some 60.48 million Italians are in lockdown. Giocondo is one of the lucky ones, as he lives in a remarkable landscape that is deeply meaningful to him. He feels intensely that the land that he loves must be protected and nourished.

Italy recorded today the lowest coronavirus death rate in a week. A total of 13,915 Italians have now officially died from the virus. There has been only one diagnosed case of coronavirus on the Amalfi coast, and no deaths.