Incredibly, it was thirty years ago this month that I first went to Italy and, in particular, Fossa. Little did I know then just how much that ‘returning’ for the first time to our family house in Abruzzo would come to change my life, and also my work.
This photo isn’t the best quality, taken back in the days of film cameras, but I cherish it. Nanna Francesca looks so happy. I’m a bit scruffy from backpacking around Europe for months but have ‘covered my legs’ after Nanna Francesca, scandalised that I’d arrived in the village wearing shorts, cried, ‘Madonna mia! Cover your legs. No one dresses like that here.’
As for Nonno Anni, seeing his face just catches my heart. Despite his appearing impassive, I can still see the emotion in his eyes that day and hear his words, ‘I’m so happy you’re finally here. The last of my grandchildren to come here. Now I can finally relax.’
How important it was for him that his descendants, while born on the other side of the world, would also know the indigenous land where they were from, where our ancestors could be traced back more than six centuries in that mountain valley in Abruzzo, and so have the blessing of both worlds.
I might’ve dragged my feet for lots of reasons the first time I returned, but by the next trip my heart was open, and I’ll be forever thankful for the love of these two people and for their keeping this connection. Who’d have thought when this photo was taken that this day would end up being in, Mezza Italiana many years later. I’m very grateful to all of you who’ve also ended up sharing this story with me over the years, thank you. ❤️🌠
Palmi, Calabria, deep in Italy’s south, where my Nanna Francesca was born. So many people warned me off going here, telling me it was too dangerous – including my own grandparents! But I’m eternally grateful Roger and I didn’t heed the warnings. For me, I think the pull of seeing the place of my Solano, Carrozza, Misale and Rizzitano ancestors was too great.
Vale to my great-aunt, Nancy, Nanna Francesca’s sister. In Mezza Italiana, I wrote about when she was born in Stanthorpe in the 1930s and her parents named her Soccorsa, they hadn’t even left the hospital when the nurses, adamant Soccorsa was too hard to say, called her, ‘Nancy’, a name that was to stick for life.
Received this lovely gift from a reader, Augusto (who doesn’t mind me sharing that he lives in Australia, was born in Fossa, Abruzzo and was pleased to discover the books). At 80, for the first time he’s learnt copper smithing and made me this little, copper conca and ladle, like those larger ones traditionally used in Abruzzo to collect water (women like my bisnonna Maddalena carried them on their heads).
Thank you to Augusto, such a beautiful kindness. I will treasure it always! And many thanks to all who’ve connected through messages and letters. It’s such a pleasure to hear from you. What most drives me to write is to preserve experiences of ‘everyday’ people and their often overlooked yet I believe significant parts of history. Thank you for your interest (and I’m working hard on the next book!!) xx
