Our first stop was Setenil de las Bodegas, a small town once famous for it’s vineyards and unique in it’s position. While most of the pueblos blancos were built on protective bluffs, Setenil grew out of caves dwellings in the cliffs above the rio Trejo, north-west of Ronda.
Knowing little about Córdoba other than it’s ancient charm, that’s where we decided to spend Christmas. Tucked away in a cozy and chic apartment in the historic center, we immediately felt at home. The city lay calm beneath the early winter sun.
Christmas was spent at la Mezquita, a cathedral within a mosque, followed by a hammam.
A trip to the marble mountains wouldn’t be complete without a stop to Colonnata, the ancient village which lies in the midst of marble at the feet of the Apuan Alps.
It is not simply this white stone that the village is know for, but another white delicacy called Lardo di Colonnata, pork fat. Having no intention of tasting this particularity, I went in search of gelato.
Needless to say, in this part of Italy, I was limited to savory, not sweet.
As we explored the village beneath the summer sun, we sought shelter at an enoteca. Very innocently the owner asked us if we’d like a little tasting. Of lardo, of course. Well, just once…
Not only was this buttery delicacy mouth-watering, but we were given a lesson in it’s making. Lardo is created by curing strips of fatback with rosemary and other herbs and spices, where it lies beneath marble for many months. Did we order more, with 2 glasses of wine to compliment? But of course!
I was surprised at how much I enjoyed this local specialty. Not something to eat often, but if you’re a meat eater, certainly something to try at least once. It’s worth a trip up to the mountains!
Several weeks ago my Italian and I decided to explore the coast of Normandy, beginning (with umbrellas) in Cherbourg. At the exact spot where the Titanic left port exactly 100 years prior.
Guided by a rainbow beneath a gray sky, our adventure began.
Alone on the open road, with only the cows to provide direction.
Until we reached a view that left us speechless.
Still without food and shelter we drove along many an empty street until we reached our gastronomic haven. Along with which came a place to call home, just for the night.
The charm of Auderville was undeniable as we drove all along the coast to Barneville.
We even stopped to visit the home of poet and screenwriter Jacques Prévert in Omonville-la-Petite.
What impressed me most of all were the landscapes.
One of the highest cliffs in Europe with views to eternity.
A terrain wild and uniquely beautiful. Reason enough to become lost in Normandy.