Calabritto non c’è più. Calabritto is no longer there. I was woken suddenly from my sleep by my mother holding me tight, grabbing at my shoulders, sobbing out those words. It had been an odd night, I was conscious of movement around me, the muffled sounds of strange voices through the walls of our flat. It was still dark when she came to tell me, I was confused and the desperation in her voice made me cry too. I couldn’t fathom what she was saying, it made no sense. At 7.34pm on the evening of 23 rd November 1980 an earthquake of magnitude 6.9 had its epicentre in the Irpinia region of Campania, in southern Italy. Mainly a collection of small villages, linked by winding roads through lush, forested land largely untouched by modern development. Sitting on its hill, at the foot of its mountains, was Calabritto. The place my parents had grown up and left, the place where my grandparents still lived, where we went every summer, where we had documented family roots back to the 1400s.
Thoughts and experiences while we live our Italian adventure. Gathered together in the gardens created by the Princess Zenaide, a 19th century writer, poet, singer and host of literary salons who followed her fortunes and sought to create beauty.