Arrival in Gaeta

Eventually, we reached the Mediterranean Sea, and then the Tyrannian Sea, that borders the west coast of Italy. We actually flew over Sardinia, too. Seeing the boats far below us made the excitement more real that I would be in the land of my ancestors from my mother’s branch of my family tree.

Breakfast was served shortly after sunrise, but I could not even remember what we had. There was nothing else on my mind except landing at Leonardo da Vinci-Fiumicino Airport in Rome and seeing my cousin Vito greeting us at the baggage claim. I remember thinking that I wanted to be able to control my emotions when I saw him, and all my Italian relatives. I also remember thinking that the language barrier was going to be a problem for me, even though I had Mark there that could help some, and Vito who spoke English well.

As we were landing, I was fixed on the direction we were coming into the airport. We approached from the South, and that was what I had hoped. We flew directly over Ostia Antica, an ancient harbor city, the Roman ruins that are on the mouth of the Tiber River that is similar to Pompeii, but better preserved since they were not buried by the ash of a volcano.

Finally, we touched down in Rome. No sleep for me on the plane, not one wink. Mark warned me that we were in for a long walk and a long check-in with customs before we would be able to see Vito. He was absolutely right. His analogy that it was like herding cattle was spot on! Down this hall, down these steps, around this turn, walk this length of hallway, then do it all again. Then, we were before a gate that reminded me of a toll booth on a turnpike where we showed our passports, answered a few questions about why we were there, and then received that coveted confirmation that we could precede – a passport stamp!

Then we were on to the baggage claim. And before us was Vito! What a great site to it was to see our cousin walking briskly toward us to greet us. A big embrace, a kiss on both cheeks, and another big embrace! He also introduced us to his friend Massimo Tajani, who owned a taxi company that shuttles people from Rome to Gaeta (and even Naples) on a daily basis. Massimo spoke no English (I already felt overwhelmed).

While we waited for our bags, we quickly used the restroom. This was my first encounter with a bidet. I thought it was a toilet, so I used it. I would later learn that it was not. Frankly, I was confused.

When I returned to the baggage claim, we had all of our bags within a few minutes and we proceeded to the nearest exit door. I was surprised to find that Massimo had parked very close by with his van (the largest vehicle within sight) to take us to Gaeta. And he was not legally parked, an indication of things to come where transportation is concerned.

After loading our luggage in the van, Mark and I took our seats in the back of the van. First on my agenda for the ride to Gaeta was to make sure my camera was readied. It was a very cloudy day.

Leaving the airport and getting onto the freeway was an experience in itself. Driving in Italy means taking chances, driving like a race car driver, and jockeying to find the best position on the road, even if it means driving on the side of the road to get into a space with just inches to squeeze into. I trusted that Massimo knew what he was doing; after all, this is how he made his living.

What struck me about the drive to Gaeta were the similarities to the big cities in America (except for the driving part). But after getting out of Rome, the landscape was very different. The trees were short, and looked very much like umbrellas with no undergrowth on the tree trunks. And the land was flat! But that soon would change. Out of nowhere appeared mountains on our left, and ocean on the right. And there were olive-colored trees growing up the side of the mountains. Vito explained that these were indeed olive trees.

About halfway to Gaeta, we stopped for coffee (espresso) at a “convenience store”. I got out of the van to take photographs of the mountains and left the door open with my camera equipment exposed. I was quickly scolded by Mark and Vito about leaving valuables in view of Italian strangers (and there were some standing outside of the store). We secured the van and went inside.

In Italy, you purchase the items you want (like our coffee), get the receipt, and then pick up your coffee. This way you cannot be accused of not paying. And tax is included in the price, so there is no need to calculate in your head what the price should be. I like this! The price tag is the price you pay!

Getting back into the van, the first thing I did was to check my equipment to make sure everything was there. Maybe it was a bit paranoid, but the caution I had received shortly before had me on guard. We drove on South, with Vito pointing out many of the interesting things to us. I remember looking at Mark and giving him that expression of awe. Vito pointed out Sperlonga when we passed by saying we would come back to visit there again later. And the tunnels that are built into the side of the mountains with archways that overlook the sea are unique to Italy that is not in the United States.

As we approached Gaeta from the north, Vito told us we would get out of the van to be able to photograph the panorama of Serapo beach and Monte Orlando. The scene did not disappoint an avid photographer like me. Before us was the ocean with a long, sandy beach extending away from us and ending at the base of the mountain. Unlike many beaches I am used to in the southern part of the US where private homes stand on dunes that are oceanfront, this beach had nothing but commercial businesses (most closed since it was the offseason) right on the beach. And nearest us was a rocky structure, known as the nave, with waves crashing against it. Behind the beach was Gaeta!

After about ten minutes of photographing, Massimo took us to Hotel Serapo, our home-base for the next 10 days or so, to check in. Hotel Serapo is at the base of Monte Orlando. From the outside it is pretty lavish, but the inside is modest and the price was right. Vito took us in to the front desk to check in and in Italian explained who we were and why we were there. We had reservations, but he wanted to make sure we were taken care of as he knew the people who worked there. We were given a large, outstanding, corner room with a nice view overlooking the ocean and mountain. There was a double bed and a single bed in the room. Mark gave me the double. We had a television (not that we would watch as everything was in Italian), and a large bathroom with a nice walk-in shower, toilet, sink, towel warmer, and a bidet. This is when I first learned about how to use one.

We left our luggage in the room and left to go to Vito’s apartment to meet Wilma (Vito’s wife), Giulia (their daughter), and Rosetta (Vito’s mother) who had come to Gaeta from Naples to see us. But on the way, Vito took us on a quick car tour of Gaeta. The city sits on a peninsula (promontory) and is surrounded on three sides by water (Tyrannian Sea and the Gulf of Gaeta). I was amazed at how medieval Gaeta and modern Gaeta meshed so well. The resort city is a paradise for travelers.

And then we left for lunch where I met my cousin Giulia for the very first time and her grandmother Rosetta. We had a wonderful, relaxing lunch with mozzarella di bufala, pasta, bread, and eggplant. I was skeptical of the mozzarella di bufala, but found it to be delicious as well as healthy. Dessert was sfogliatelle, an Italian pastry that comes in the form of a cone or shell with a layered texture. Typically, an orange-flavored ricotta filling is used. Variations include almond paste or candied peel fillings.

Vito had a commitment to announce the starting lineups at a regional volleyball game. He took us to the gymnasium along the street where Serapo Beach is and took us in to witness some of the finest volleyball matches I have witnessed in my life. These men were Olympic quality players.

Following the match, Vito took us to his favorite bar. A bar in Italy does serve alcohol, but that is not their primary business. Coffee (espresso) is the main draw to Tapas Bar. You can get beer, lemoncello, grappa, and other alcoholic beverages, and even pizza. The people were great there, and good friends of Vito’s. We met Damiano Ciano, a friend, Paulo and Fulvio, owner of the bar. None of them speak English, but the warmth and friendship easily translated from them through Vito to Mark and I. In addition to an espresso, I had my first ever lemoncello and grappa (shot glasses are enough).

As the sunset fell upon us, Vito drove us to the top of Monte Orlando where we were able to view and photograph the city at dusk. Because we had a long day and the jet lag was starting to befall us, Vito took us back to our hotel where we retired for the night with the sliding door to the balcony open for a nice breeze and the sound of the sea to lull us to sleep.