For years, we had been avid viewers of those programmes about relocating abroad and starting a new life, and we had told ourselves that perhaps, one day, we would up sticks from our home in the UK, and move to a more temperate climate. 

We had holidayed several times in Italy, however our initial trip was to visit and meet, for the very first time, some of my mother’s family who lived in the small mountain town of Atina, in Frosinone. A century had passed since my Nonno and Nonna had left behind their beloved homeland in search of a new life in London. 

During our wonderful sojourn there, cousin Mario kindly volunteered to escort us on several enjoyable outings, a day trip to Rome, a visit to Pompeii and the Amalfi Coast.

Gaeta Old Town

Another day he drove us westwards to a stretch of coast which is known as the “Riviera di Ulisse”. Here Mario treated us to a tour of the resorts of Gaeta and Sperlonga and we soon found ourselves being charmed by the atmosphere of the ancient medieval quarters, the colourful ports and numerous sandy beaches. We took a gentle stroll along a stretch of Sperlonga’s golden shore which was gently lapped by the crystal clear waters. It seemed that this beautiful area had not yet been discovered by many foreign holiday makers. So enchanted we were with this beautiful stretch of coast, that we vowed to return again to explore this area in greater detail.

Thus this Italian family, namely Guido, his wife Giovanna and their two teenage sons planned their Easter trip. We had rather assumed that they would be flying to the UK, however they had their own ideas – to drive all the way from their hometown of Gaeta, situated two hours south of Rome, to South Wales.  When they arrived late in the evening, as you can imagine, they were utterly exhausted. We were astonished to discover that somehow they had successfully achieved the 2135 km journey in a mere 24 hours, only stopping very briefly for petrol and the odd comfort stop! With them they had brought copious gifts of olive oil, wine, buffala mozzarella, other local cheeses and delicious Gaeta olives. 

Over that week we took them out and about to visit local places of interest and gave them the opportunity to experience a little slice of the British lifestyle. Over the week our two families had really forged a special bond, and by the time their holiday was drawing to a successful conclusion, we had come to regard each other almost as family. 

In the Autumn our hospitality was generously reciprocated when they invited us to stay with them. We flew to Rome where we hired a car and drove south towards Gaeta. Guido and Giovanna were remarkably generous hosts, who wined and dined us, and showed us many of the fascinating local sites and attractions.  Once again we were completely mesmerised by the sheer beauty and enchanting atmosphere of this region of South Lazio which seemed to have so much in its favour. Even in September / October the weather was so gloriously warm yet we were astounded to find that the numerous sandy beaches were virtually deserted, as by early September the Italian summer season was already over. 

Itri

Paul and I decided to take an exploratory drive and we intrepidly ventured inland, winding our way along a particularly tortuous road that rose steadily from the coast into some magnificent mountainous countryside. We finally pulled into the historic town of Itri, sited on the ancient Roman Appian Way. Whilst relaxing outside a jolly little bar, sipping our ice cold beers, I declared that if ever we are able to realise our dream of living in Italy, Itri would be the place to make our home.

Yet, far too soon, our holiday was over and depression began to set in as it was time to return to our humdrum life with its all too familiar routine. We just had to face the stark reality – we would have to wait, until some time in the distant future before we could consider moving abroad. Otherwise all we could hope for was that our £1 stake in the weekly national lottery would one day come up trumps. 

However nothing could prevent me from dreaming !!!

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(This is our tale based on our adventures whilst striving to create a new life for ourselves in Bella Italia, however to protect individuals’ privacy a number of names and places and certain details have been altered.)  

I have always felt that Bella Italia was in my blood. 

My maternal grandparents originated from the beautiful mountain community of Atina, overlooking the River Melfa and the Meta and Mainarde mountains, and the Abruzzi. In Italy, at the beginning of the 1900’s, times were very hard, people toiled in miserable conditions and experienced severe hardship and poverty due to poor wages and food shortages. Thus my grandfather Benedetto felt restless, as many Italian families departed for distant lands: the America, France, Belgium, Scotland, and England. His elder brother and sister had already moved to live in London, and Benedetto, longing for adventure was also enticed by the prospect of emigration to a new land of opportunity. 

 

 

I too was born nearby, in the heart of London – “within the sound of Bow Bells“, so I suppose I could be considered to be an “Italian Cockney“. I developed a true passion for Italy and all things Italian, and felt a real need to see for myself the land of my forefathers, to visit Atina and walk in the footsteps of my grandparents. 

15 years ago my husband Paul and I spent a memorable fortnight staying with some of my Italian cousins, in Atina. It was our first meeting but we were so warmly welcomed and received into the family fold and Atina transpired to be even more charming than I could ever have imagined. 

 

 

 

 

 

Atina in Frosinone

 

 

 

Thus began our irresistible love affair with “La Bella Italia”

which finally inspired us to risk everything, sell up lock, stock and barrel

and entirely transform our lifestyle. 

Courageous?  Daring?  Reckless?  Foolhardy?  Naïve?  All of these ??? 

This is the tale of our diverse adventures,

exploits and escapades along the way. 

I hope you will enjoy following our progress …………………. 

AVANTI  SEMPRE  AVANTI !!!

 

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My Grandparents with some of their children

In the Summer of 1911 my Italian grandparents first set foot on English soil, and made their way to the city of London, to the district of Clerkenwell, the Italian quarter know as “Little Italy” or “The Hill”. They rented a dilapidated Victorian house at the end of Little Saffron Hill, close to St Peter’s Italian Church, which was to be their home for many years to come. Here my mother was born and she was brought up in the thriving Italian community.