Riding scooters through The countryside on our way to the tiny town of Penne. Hours and hours in the hot baking sun.
This is it. The entrance to the great city of Penne. Hometown to my great-grandfather’s family. The morelli family. Town of 13,000 people. an ancient town dating from 213 AD. The whole town made of brick. All the roads are paved in brick. Everything is built on these hills. And everything is connected. All just one gigantic building housing thousands of people and churches and businesses. All made of this old brick. Climbing up the hills on our scooter, climbing up and up The cold ride back. looking for Carla. The beautiful people. what a feeling it was to sit in a 1500 year old café in the hometown of my great grandfather…. long before I was ever even conceived of or imagined…
Stopped at these family’s home because they make olive oil right there in their house. Sat down and got to know them a little. Eating bread and cheese and oil. I bought jugs and jugs of this olive oil to bring back with me.
Such a contrast to the big city of Pescara. Pescara is like Detroit or something. It is just a sprawling city. highways everywhere. a lot of industry. The ugliest place I have seen in Italy so far. it is actually hard for me to drive through due to the overwhelming lack of real beauty anywhere in the town. Which is funny because so far it is the nicest collection of beautiful girls I have seen in the country. We are truly in awe of what we have seen the last two days. So many beautiful girls and boys it is hard to fathom at first. The Italian girls try to talk with us but we do not speak well enough. And they speak no English except, ‘what is your name. my name is …’