Mountain Towns and Dancing Shoes

Standard

I love the mountains. Love looking at them, and even more being out in them. So one of the things on my tick list while in Italy was to get to the mountains. Most people know about the Italian Alps, in the northwest. A few more know about the Dolomites, in the northeast. I was not familiar with the Sibillinis, which actually run pretty much down the spine of “the boot” of Italy.

They’re at their highest and most beautiful in Le Marche, where the Parco Nazionale dei Monti Sibillini is located. http://www.sibillini.net/en/index.htmlImage

So we drove first to Sarnano and then to Amandola, about 30-45 minutes south of us. Both are picturesque walled towns in the mountains. Both are fascinating to wander through. They’re both built at the top of a rise at the foot of higher mountains. So the streets circle the hill, dividing it into level or layers. It sounds orderly—sort of. But walking around these narrow vias and vicolos, you could easily get lost. And that’s part of the fun of it—at least to me. It’s also a great way to get to the top of a very steep hill—traversing back and forth past storybook castle-like homes that have been occupied for the better part of a millennium.

Image

Image

The snow that affected us affected these mountain towns even more. Our puny 20 cm of snow paled in comparison to their meter of snow. We had a couple of warmer, sunny days, and thanks to their experience and preparedness, the streets were completely clear. Heading up the mountain toward the rifugio (mountain retreat), we wondered what the mountain road would be like. Let me just say it got worse the higher we went. But the snowplows had been there, God bless’em. We stopped before they did. We could have gone farther, but we didn’t have snow tires or chains. Still, the views were worth it. Saw a pack of wild boar on the way down—probably 12-15 of the hairy beasts. Tried to get a pic, but they were too skittish.

Image

Image

I don’t have a shoe fetish, but I do have a pair of Italian shoe that I got 20+ years ago that make me very happy. I call them my dancing shoes. Low-cut loafer in an oxblood color I’ve never seen anywhere else. Leather sole so you can slide on the dance floor. I’ve had them resoled 6-8 times over their lifespan, I love them that much. Another item on my Italy tick list was finding a pair of Italian shoes to replace them (well, supplement them, at least). Success! Le Marche happens to be home to several nice Italian shoe makers, and they have “venditta diretta” stores (outlets, basically) where they sell direct for cheap.

Image

We visited a couple of shops in Monegranaro and got a tour of the last one, Piampiani, in Civitanova. Its not Prada or Bruno Magli, but they had some gorgeous shoes, and they’re made by actual people (who use machines—but still – very high-touch). When you think of “Italian shoes” and you think of Gepetto in a little shop with a hammer and some thread, you’re not alone. You’re wrong, but not alone. They DO make prototypes very much by hand, with hand stitching and the little cobbler’s lasts, etc. But when it comes to manufacturing shoes, they… manufacture.

Image

Image

Image

But again, it’s very high touch and there are real people touching the work and making sure it is high quality. The women’s boots… que bella. So, yes, I got a new pair of dancing shoes.

Image

Now, to hit the dance floor. Ladies…?

 

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Mountain Towns and Dancing Shoes

  1. Domenico Pecorari

    Thanks for the very intersting post. I live in Australia, but have a “home in Italy” in the the lovely hill-top village of Petritoli. I love the area too.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s