Cilento Walkabout

It was a warm and cloudy morning as we set off for walkabout on the Cilento coast.  Here one abandons all hope of signs, tourist routes or seeing many other people.  Any people for that matter.  We climbed the hill out of San Marco, looking down on the lovely little harbor and its fishing boats bobbing at anchor.  A narrow gravel road led south down the coast.  The road wound beneath the hamlets of Licosa Terzza, Licosa Prima and Licosa Seconda.  Believe me, to rate a name like Licosa Seconda a town has to be tiny.  Three houses and goat, more or less.  Along the way we found our perfect stone house, the ideal hideaway on this very hidden section of the Italian coast.  If I ever need a retreat to write a gargantuan novel, this would be it.  During the whole of the morning we met not a soul.

The way ran down to Ponte Licosa with its seemingly abandoned marina and a tiny lighthouse.  The day was warming, the sea was gentle, and I munched wild nasturtiums that tumbled en masse across the stone walls along the lane.  Yummy peppery goodness.  We could have harvested a salad as we walked.  Olive groves reached up the hill and fig trees overhung the path from behind crumbling stone walls.   To call this a peaceful walk would be the wildest of understatements.

Of course there are ruins.  The countryside is covered with them, ancient and not so.

We veered off the roadway to a proper path running along the sea.  Strolling on the dense carpet of pine trees along the rocky coast was a delight.  After a long walk south, we emerged from the woods to find the empty seaside resort of Ogliastro Marina.  Perhaps there are visitors here later in the season, but we were the only diners at a seaside trattoria.  The owner seemed very surprised to see us.  It was decided that the lunch possibilities included salad and calamari or salad and calamari.   We opted for his recommendation.

We circled inland, intent on finding a route over the steep hills of the Cilento coast that might lead back to San Marco.  The wildflowers were riot on the open slopes.  The sun appeared and the day grew warm.  There were twists and turns, backtracking and dead ends.  Finally we decided on a gravel road that led steeply up through the olive groves.  It proved to be a good choice.

During the course of the day, we had seen the earth uprooted around the base of some of the olive trees.  I guessed that it must be the work of wild pigs.  As we climbed up the sun-baked trail, my suspicions were confirmed.  There was a crashing in the brush and a family of wild porkers burst across the grove, dashing away from us while grunting their displeasure at being disturbed.  It was glorious.

Sweaty and happy, we gained the summit of the hill.  Walking the ridge afforded wide views of the countryside, a landscape of storybooks.  Here is a video from the top:

Cilento Summit Walkabout

The views were stunning, we had the world to ourselves, and I could not imagine anywhere else in the world I would want to be.

 

At the very summit, before the path plunged back down the hill, we found an abandoned overlook complete with picnic tables and shade trees.  It was the ideal lunch spot to while away the afternoon with a meal of local fruit, baked snacks and a good cigar.  What a day!  Tuscany?  I don't think so.  Give me the sleepy south of Italy.  

Santa Maria, San Marco and Castelabate were all in view form our lunchtime haven.  When we finally decided to move on, the rough road dropped precipitously down the ridge to San Marco.  Tired and happy, we made our way to our lovely room with a view overlooking the sea.  

Nothing much happens here.  There is nothing much to do.  People are warm and friendly.  The countryside is sublime and the resorts, such as they are, are empty.  This is the Cilento coast in May.  I am sure it is a different place in the high season, but during these days it is a retreat from the world.

Amazing.