The Abruzzi provinces would be altogether the
best way of seeing the remoter parts of south and central Italy. For
decent food-supplies can generally be obtained in the smallest places;
the drawback is that nobody can cook them. Dirty food by day and dirty
beds by night will daunt the most enterprising natures in the long run.
These tracks are only traversed in summer. When I last walked through
this region - in the reverse direction, from Lagonegro over Latronico and
San Severino to Castrovillari - the ground was still covered with
stretches of snow, and many brooks were difficult to cross from the
swollen waters. This was in June. It was odd to see the beeches rising,
in full leaf, out of the deep snow.
During this afternoon ramble I often wondered what the burghers of
Taranto would think of these sylvan solitudes. Doubtless they would
share the opinion of a genteel photographer of Morano who showed me some
coloured pictures of local brides in their appropriate costumes, such as
are sent to relatives in America after weddings. He possessed a good
camera, and I asked whether he had never made any pictures of this fine
forest scenery. No, he said; he had only once been to the festival of
the Madonna di Pollino, but he went alone - his companion, an
avvocato, got frightened and failed to appear at the last moment.
