After three days largely confined to a campsite outside Turin, we decided to head off to the Piemonte Countryside for a short trip down memory lane. I had a remote connection with the Davico family and when I was 18 years of age, I had visited and stayed in their very handsome castle, which struck a pose high up across the beautiful hilly landscape, not far from Asti. The current Contessa, Maria Teresa Davico di Quittengo, had kindly invited us to stay for a few days. But following a family lunch back in the UK, on arrival in France we had discovered that we had been struck down with Covid on the eve of our departure, and instead, had been forced to isolate in the Sprinter in rural Turin until the worst was passed.
(Italians in general seem to be much more cautious about Covid and masks were being worn everywhere. Something I found very reassuring. This was including on buses, in shops and restaurants and even in the street. Needless to say, being Italian, some of the masks were pretty astounding and fashionable.)
Our plans had changed to allow us time to recover and therefore we now suggested to Maria Teresa, a short visit to see the castle after I had recovered, before continuing our journey Eastwards. This visit would allow me to test my 50 year old recollections and to reconnect with the family.
The first challenge was manoeuvring the 5 ton 8 metre long Sprinter up the very steep narrow lanes to Salabue, where increasingly ominous warning signs discouraged lorries and buses from attempting to climb. Intrepidly we plonked the car into 4WD and low range gears and struck out. Some of the bends were literally hairpins and there was little or no space to turn. The Mercedes in 4WD, reassuringly pulled up the steepest of slopes with no complaint. However, getting stuck on hairpin bends on narrow roads between houses with balconies at a dangerously low level, seemed a very real possibility! Recklessly, nothing ventured, nothing gained and needless to say we squeezed through the tightest of gaps, folding in the mirrors. Jim assisted by leaping out and measured the widths with arms outstretched!
The astounding views on arrival at the highest point around at Salabue Castello, were totally heavenly and the full width terrace shaded in gnarled purple flowering Wisteria looked ageless. An old hunting dog laid in the sun and the doors to the lounge, dining room and library were flung open to reveal grand interiors that held secrets of Davico generations past. The serving hatch that brought steaming dishes from cavernous ancient kitchens below, which I had recollected, was still there. The painted frescoes in the dining room and the elegant furnishings still graced the timeless interiors. Much like before, a small number of older family members enjoyed the serenity of the countryside and lived in the castle full time and were descended on by working families and their young children in the holidays. Probably what had changed with the times was the formality. Gone were the serving staff, the housekeepers and cooks. One member of staff helped part time with the gardens and kept the roses under control. I suspect that holiday wear for the Davicos’ would now be shorts and jeans rather than the more formal dinners I remembered.
But the gardens were lovingly cared for and the castle rooms had been ‘zoned’ to allow different households to share the space whilst affording those, living there full time, some privacy. Older dusty barns and workshops had been painstakingly restored and the walled garden with its low trimmed privet hedges reminded me of bits of the Alhambra in Granada. How is it that some people get climbing roses to climb elegantly up walls everywhere and mine hang off our house in a disorganised mess?
The current Contessa told us great stories about my Great Aunt Eleanor (American married to an Italian Count) who had been a former Contessa. Aunt Eleanor had been the Aunt of my Aunt by marriage. And it was she who had invited me to stay when I had hitchhiked from London via Italy to Greece for a holiday whilst I was an 18 year old student. I had thought that my Great Aunt had had a reasonably successful real estate business in Arizona in her working life but actually not! After the death of her husband the then Count, she had decided to try and make a living by trying her hand at rearing chickens in the castle at Salabue and selling them to smart restaurants. 40 chicks, soon became 400 and she hawked them around fancy restaurants in her small Citroen Deux Chevaux. She very successfully distributed her chickens far and wide and every shed and barn in the castle became overrun with chickens. The chicken breeding and distribution side of the business went very well. Restaurants liked to have their chickens hand reared and delivered by a Countess and she had no shortage of takers. What went less well was the business side and she virtually bankrupted the family by not sending out any invoices! What had started as a money making entrepreneurial venture soon threatened the very future of the family pile. Unsurprisingly, the family put their foot down concerning the chickens, and Aunt Eleanor frustrated in her ambitions, returned to Arizona to try her hand as a lecturer of Italian at a local University. This was more of a success until she retired and she then was persuaded to return to Italy to live full time with her daughter - which was where I found her living when I visited as a young person. I was struck then by how much respect she commanded when shopping locally as a real Contessa. Some things change and some don’t.
When we left Maria Teresa to return to the main road we were flagged down by an English speaking resident enquiring about our business there in their village. When we said we had just been visiting the Contessa, there was an almost audible intake of breath. The Contessa, of German origin, who like her American predecessor had married an Italian Count and was now a widow. This Contessa who spoke 4 languages, and talked to us about theatre, films and her views on the tragedy that is currently Ukraine, had more sense than to turn her hand to chickens! It has to be said, she who had just hospitably served us a totally delicious lunch of pasta, salad and fresh seasonal strawberries on her flowering terrace overlooking farms and vineyards, still commanded huge respect in the neighbourhood.
That afternoon on departing Salabue, we decided to Wild Camp locally. We had identified a spot at Ponzanno Monferrato quite close to Salabue. There was a busy parking area with amazing views over the valley. People flocked there on bikes and in cars and the area was criss crossed with walking paths. One steep footpath led up to a chapel past lots of smaller shrines honouring the Virgin Mary. This spot was a World Heritage site, presumably as much for the staggering view as the cluster of ancient buildings up a steep hill attracting visitors and pilgrims. For us the climb up the hill, the find of a small cafe in the middle of nowhere serving refreshments and then dinner in the Sprinter overlooking the amazing view, was the perfect end to a perfect day. As night has fallen there is only the sound of wind passing through the protective circle of trees and ours is now the only vehicle remaining.
