What's a borgo?

Something I never knew about before I came to live here and which I absolutely love are "borghi".   Judging by the reaction of many visitors we have taken to see one, they are not necessarily common knowledge so I thought you might like to know a little about them.

So, what is a borgo?  Drive anywhere in Italy and you can’t help coming across a borgo (borghi pl.) or several!  There are countless numbers in Italy, which can be found anywhere, perched on top of hills, bursting into view as your car rounds a bend in a road, or in the centre of major cities. 

Built in medieval times, although some foundations hail back to the days of the ancient Romans or even the Etruscans before them, borghi are essentially fortified villages.  In medieval times Italy was not a united country but a mass of independent states.  Land was highly prized and rich landowners fought regularly for control of it.  The local “Lord of the Manor” owned his borgo which he ran pretty independent of other considerations.  The lord lived in a castle protected by high walls.  Villages grew up at the foot of the castles and were encompassed by these same walls.  Although when visiting a borgo you find each has its own unique “flavour”, mostly all have fortified walls, a castle, a church and a market place in common.

Borghi for the most part are incredibly picturesque; some have centuries old buildings now decrepit and falling down, others are bright and buzzy, hot tourist spots. Yet others are renowned for being romantic or for their spectacular views over the countryside. Some are actually lived in, some are part used.   Wherever you go in Italy you can be sure to find at least one or two not too far away. 

Here are a few of pictures of the borgo at Pratica Di Mare just south of Rome.  The local landowner is reputed to live in the castle hidden in the thick walls, while locals and visitors to the area meet at the popular local eating places there, or buy specialty foods at a small (could stay in here forever!) shop.  The building in the photo at the top of this page shows the entrance, which is being renovated.  This borgo is part lived in and used and part derelict.  For all that is has its charm. 

Away for a couple of days ...

Going to lose a stone or two!

Speak to you next week.

Nadine

"Lovely, lovely, lovely"

One of the things I love best about living in Italy is watching it come alive each spring with a fantastic display of vibrant flowers.  That first year, a whole new world opened up before me dazzling me in the process, and still does every year.  Flowers we never see in the UK because it’s too cold for them to flourish, grow here in profusion, the colours so bright you almost need sunglasses to look at them.  Starting with the sunny yellow mimosa (accompanied by heavenly scent) the spring follows through with cascades of pale wisteria, perfumed jasmine and then exotic hibiscus until summer arrives with the many-coloured oleander.  I don’t know why those last two remind me of a song, our sweet but clueless music teacher at school used to sing… “On wings of song”  (the music is by Mendelssohn, lyrics here), but they always do.

Vito is less romantically inclined towards them.  He simply refers to oleander as “street trees” because the local councils in Italy make good use of these plants on every roadside and central section of busy highways, and refuses point blank to let me buy any for our garden. Hibiscus I gave up buying, as I appear to have the kiss of death where they are concerned L

Bougainvillea though we were both agreed on.  In fact I think they are universally loved.  I always remember how my aunt, a keen gardener, reacted when I first told her about our empty garden walls.  “Bougainvillea, bougainvillea, bougainvillea”, she sighed.  Surprisingly they took really well, in particular this one which we call  “The Triffid”.

 

That might seem a bit excessive, but one year it did fall across the front door and I couldn’t get out!  But I forgave it.  It’s so just so beautiful.

Or as a friend of mine wrote back to me when I sent her these photos this morning, “lovely, lovely, lovely”.