Down on The Farm

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Down on The Farm

 Europe » Italy By BIG
November 1st 2006
brittan inman goldmann i came back to autumn in italy after making a large circle-swoop travel in eastern europe and arriving just in time to catch the grape and olive harvests, (not to mention la racolta di Turpinambor http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jerusalem_artichoke). It seemed as though i was chasing summer as i crossed meridian lines headed south. It was not until retiring from sun bathing at 4 p.m, when the sun fell upon the Sicilian orange groves and the aire turned bitter, that i realized i had met some version of winter. In those days my finger nails carried the soils of Abruzzo vineyards, Campania's lush mountain peaks, and Basilicata's rich clay to the volcanic ashes that fell from mt. Etna's boiling volcano. In those days my black heels hibernated at the bottom of my back pack and my 2 euro pants were held up with knotted scarfs. It was not until i spent some days in Rome before flying home that i coated mascara on my clean, naked, lashes after two months of country bliss. I wonder if these photos will do justice to that time: not for the people that i met.

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Photos

pondering life in the abruzzo hills
for two weeks andreas and i worked side-by-side on his family's vineyard, the nonna and mama helping out as they could. He liked chocolate cake for breakfast, talking to me for hours about astrophysics (i barely understood those italian terms), when the steel tanks heated up from the wine fermentation and driving the tractor under low branches as i stood in the back ducking down low. He was a good friend.

the first cut from the vine
8 a.m. the Nonna and i are ready to start cutting...at that moment i had no idea just how big the job was and how many perfect, sweet grapes were waiting on the vine for us.

the harvest
And in the autumn, when you gather the grapes of your vineyard for the winepress, say in you heart,
"I to am a vinyard, and my fruit shall be gathered for the winepress,
And like new wine I shall be kept in eternal vessels."
"And in winter, when you draw the wine, let there be in your heart a song for each cup;
And let there be in the song a remembrance for the autumn days, and for the vineyard, and for the winepress."
-The PROPHET, by Kahlil Gibran

Ravioli production line
The food was genius.

Lunch time
The two hour break inside the cool home where we all would sweat and sniffle in a chorus to the hot peperocini oil generously dropped on the pasta. This is us after our watered-wine and hot sauce high, before heading out to the fields to munch on the cold grapes while picking and fighting sugar-hunting wasps.

Senora Maria and Yoni
The photo remnants of the other two farms inbetween Abruzzo and Sicily seem to have been lost.... i have no picutres of that time. However, here are the ladies of the home preparing for lunch the next day near the notorious wood-burning oven.

Sicily
i wrapped socks around the handle bars and tied cushions onto the seat of an old bike...and yes, the evening rides across the hills of Sicily with the choking chain was worth it.

Sicily
Lovely Victoria in our "cabbage" (i.e.. cottage) full of Mina, Guitar, Pomegranates, Prickly Pears, Poetry, Incense....

oh, donkey heart
bringing the babes in for the night

attempts to leave
when the Bus and Train union goes on strike in Sicily there are few options.

WE made it
On to Rome!!
Not before making a stop to see an old friend in AGROPOLI!!!

In Rome for a while...
Rome was the big cherry-on-top of the huge Italian Indulgence.

rome is for lovers
rome is for everyone because it is just that beautiful

hoorah!! i have no face
everywhere we went, there we found something incredible