It is not until you travel through Italy that you realise what a diverse and complex country this is. In truth it is not a country at all but a collection of sovereign states that had little choice but to unite after Napoleon’s successful invasion of the land. The north still represent the rich and fertile soil that gave the country its name (Italia was in use by 500BC and derives from the tribal word for ‘calf’) while the south still feels it has had the rough end of the deal.
Having finished a week of parties, hellos and goodbyes for friends and family, we were able to breathe a collective sigh and embark on our Honeymoon. We had decided to travel down through Italy, via train from Barga to Rome and then by air to Sicily and the second largest of the Aeolian Islands, Salina. Having spent all our time in the north of the country we hoped this would introduce us to that which remained; the mysteries of the ancient capital and the rugged beauty of the volcanic islands.
The pair of us have always been methodical and organised when it comes to travelling, perhaps due to the fact we had so much to do this summer we somehow managed to overlook a few essentials with regards our trip. For one, we had not booked any seats on the train to Rome, figuring that during August Italians left the city and escaped to the coast. What we didn’t count on was that the hottest months bring to the country literally millions of tourists and the majority of them use the good rail links between cities such as Florence and Rome as a way of visiting the country. We reminded ourselves of this sitting on the floor of the train just outside a rather ripe toilet as we sped through (I imagine, as I could not see) the beautiful countryside of Tuscany and Lazio.

Our second miscalculation was the fact that while we had flights to Sicily booked we had not gone so far as to arrange passage on a boat to the island of Salina. In truth this was not our fault as we had attempted to ring them but either the line was disconnected or they could not help us at this time. Only when we turned up at the port in Palermo did we manage to secure our tickets. In a scene reminiscent of the wayward couple in the film Casablanca we entered a dimly lit office and after our papers were checked and the exchange of several large domination notes did we receive our ‘exit visas’.
Rome is a magnificent city, smaller than its romantic rival Paris which makes it more accessible, user friendly and human. I had been informed that similar to Paris and other large capital cities the Romans could be a little less than interested in you and tended to show their contempt for anyone other than other Romans. But I found them most accommodating and more than willing to put up with my poor language skills.

I had also been told that Roman food was not really of the same quality as that available in Tuscany and tended to consist of speciality offal dishes; brains, guts, spleen, lungs and intestines all lightly fried with pasta (at least in the UK we process such meats until they are unrecognisable and hide it in pastry), plus they charge ridiculous amounts for these unsavoury delights. Perhaps we were lucky but the food was of an excellent quality and like any city the cost was dependent on the premises you visited.
One of the reasons we were visiting Rome was that I had been fortunate enough to gain access to the Necropolis – a pre-Christianity tomb complex under the Vatican that was reputed to contain the bones of St. Peter. I have always been fascinated with what lies under a city, the arteries and veins that keep a metropolis running, the remnants of those peoples who came before us and the closed off secrets hidden in basements and grottoes. The Necropolis is a reminder that dynasties, religions and beliefs come and go and that nothing in this world lasts forever.

Salina was a different experience altogether. The island is beautiful in a rugged and undeveloped way and not that easy to get to. The hotel we stayed in was the sort that holiday brochures use on the front cover in glorious Technicolor, the swimming pool shimmering in the sunlight with the azure seas and lush green foliage in the background. But for me the criticisms that people had about Rome was probably more apt about the inhabitants of Salina and Sicily. They are not the most hospitable or charming people I have ever met; perhaps because it was August they wanted to be on holiday and resented anyone else who was. The food also leaves something to be desired. It was expensive and most of the pasta dishes were dry and unappetising. I like capers and anchovies, but not on everything I eat.

It’s the differences that you note the most, the Italians in Rome were more sure of themselves, more urbane and sophisticated from living in a large city but at the same time they seemed uninspired by what that city had to offer, antiquities got in the way of modernising the city and the tourists merely clogged the roads and made them late for work. The Italians of Salina spoke in a dialect that was impossible to understand and every small act was an effort that they did not wish to enter into, but they were proud of their island and what it had to offer.

Next month: Quiet time in Tuscany.

Adam J. Shardlow is a writer now living in Barga