Passions with a Passport: 2009

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

This book is very comparable...

Book review: The Island by Victoria Hislop
Wed, 09/26/2007 - 21:03 — Bridget

I wanted to share what I thought to be a sort of anthropological view of people from small towns. This book, The Island, glorifies tradition and simplicity. I think it was extremely relatable to a quite way of life, a very quintacential town with "sheltered from the elements" kinda people... many like here in the Cinque Terre.

Read this and sail on a traquil, blue ,mediterranian, flaoting dream.

Happy sailing.~~~~~~~~

The Island--- Summary-
A story about the loves, lives and losses of four generations of Greeks; from the fishing village Plaka to London; and the devastating effect of the island off the coast of Plaka: Spinalonga.

The story
Alexis Fielding, a Londoner, is holidaying on Crete and is in a turmoil of indecisiveness. She has knows there are deep dark family secrets on the side of her mother, Sophia, who came from Crete but has always refused to mention anything about her past. She also doesn’t think she loves her long-term boyfriend, Ed, but she doesn’t really understand love and passion. So she is astounded when her mother agrees that she should visit Sophia’s home town, and some of her friends, to finally discover the secrets in her mother’s past.

Alexis leaves Ed sulking in Hania while she makes the long journey to the tiny fishing village of Plaka; her mother’s home town. She is surprised to find that just out to sea from Plaka sits Spinalonga—once the enforced colony for all of Crete’s lepers. Alexis seeks out Fontini, the woman to whom her mother has entrusted with telling their family history. Alexis not only discovers her deep connection to Plaka, but also her equally deep connection to Spinalonga. As Fontini’s tale unfolds, Alexis is drawn into the story of her family, and the passionate loves, hates, and lives of the villagers. And of course, their silent neighbours across the water.

A Traveler's History of the Cinque Terre - by: Rick Steves

It's a sunny afternoon a thousand years ago in the Cinque Terre (CHINK-weh TAY-reh), long before it became the Italian Riviera. This string of humble villages, surrounded by terraced vineyards, is a two-day sail from Genoa.

The leathery old farmer, taking a break from tending his grape vines, picks a cactus fruit to quench his thirst. Suddenly howls come from the crude stony tower crowning a bluff that marks his village of Vernazza. Turkish pirates are attacking.

Avoiding powerhouse cities like nearby Genoa and Pisa, pirates delight in the villages. These Cinque Terre towns, famous since Roman times for their white wine, are like snack time for rampaging pirates. Villagers run for cover down corridors buried deep in the clutter of homes that clog Vernazza's ravine.

A thousand years later, another leathery grape-picker is startled by the roar of a smoke-billowing train. Emerging from the newly built tunnel, it flies a red, white and green flag. It's 1870 and the feudal and fragmented land of Italy is finally united. This first Italian train line, an engineering triumph of fledgling Italy, laced together Turin, Genoa, Rome...and, by chance, tiny Vernazza.

Decades later, in the 1930s, an Italian dictator teams up with a German tyrant. The war they started is going badly. In 1943 the German Führer calls on Vernazza's teenage boys to report for duty. The boys, who are assured they'll only work in German farms and factories, know they'll end up as fodder on the front. Rather than dying for Hitler, they become resistance fighters. Running through the night, they climb the ancient terraces like giant stairsteps into the hills high above the village cemetery.

The 1970s bring on a different battle scene. Hippies exercise their right to lay naked on the Cinque Terre's remote Guvano beach. Outraged, an angry armada of villagers — fully clothed and accompanied by a raft of reporters — converge on the ratpack of sunburned big-city hedonists. Conservative little Vernazza makes headlines across Italy.

Next, the age of tourism arrives. In 1978 a college-aged American backpacker, stumbling onto the region, finds the traditions vivid, the wine cheap, and the welcome warm. Inspired by the Cinque Terre and similar places throughout the Continent, he declares the region a "back door" and writes what will become a top-selling guidebook on Europe.

By the 1990s, word of this paradise is out. More and more travelers visit — staying in local apartments rather than in hotels. One day, at the crack of dawn, another invasion comes...this time by land. A platoon of Italian tax inspectors blitz the sleepy town, rousting out the tourists and cornering locals renting unlicensed rooms. B&B income in Vernazza is suddenly no longer tax-free.

Today gnarled old men still tend their grapevines. Now Vernazza's castle — named "Belforte" centuries ago for the screams of its watchmen — protects only glorious views. And the screams ringing out are of delight from children playing on the beach below.

But the local economy has changed. The poor village is now a rich village, living well in its rustic and government-protected shell. Tourism drives the economy as the less-calloused locals feed and house travelers. While the private rooms rented are basic, the cuisine — super-charged by a passion for pasta, pesto, and seafood — is some of Italy's best.