Ravello
The narrow road from crowded Amalfi twists and turns while it ascends to Ravello, my idea of heaven on earth. Reaching the town requires effort as it does to reach paradise, in this case not by good works but by skillful driving. Looking down into the deep Valley of the Dragon below me as Glenn navigated the steep and sharp turns I could see tiny flat spaces filled with lemon trees, a small house with smoke rising from the chimney and one or two seemingly inaccessible B&Bs nestled on the vertiginous slopes. It was bitterly cold and windy on our last visit but the sun was shining in the clear blue air when we reached our goal, a town suspended between the sea and sky.

We parked near the new concert hall designed by Oscar Niemeyer. Its jarring design looked to me like a gigantic eye out of character to the surroundings.. We turned away from its hard gaze to enter the mellow and harmonious town center, the Piazza Vescavado. The sunlight fell on the piazza, the 11th Century Duomo, the Moorish-style Villa Rufulo and two bars with tables defiantly set outside despite the temperature. We joined determined sippers nursing their cappuccini while keeping hunched up against the cold.

The economy of Ravello is based on painted ceramics, limoncello, a famous summer festival where guests can contemplate the infinite blue coastline, sea and sky while enjoying the music, and beautiful luxury hotels to accommodate sybarites. Perfection.



Other religious artifacts attracted our ever-curious eyes: vials of St. Pantaleone's holy blood which is said to liquefy on July 27th, part of St. Thomas' finger bone and Santa Barbara's skull held in a gorgeous reliquary done up in gold and silver. These leftover pieces are a grisly pleasure to behold although the treasures in Ravello cannot hold a candle to those in Baroque Rome where there must be enough to make several new saints if they were all put together.

It is hardly possible to leave without buying a brightly painted plate or bowl. As usual I succumbed to a bowl with brightly painted lemons and a bottle of limoncello. Visions of a long summer lunch played in my mind, an aperitivo of the liqueur served ice-cold, followed by a Caprese with mozzarella di bufala, and then pasta primavera showing off in the new bowl.

Ah – the delights of Italy.
Published on January 23, 2012 15:27
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