Once upon a time there was an inhospitable mountain of stones that was my lot. But there were also a wood crossed by green and musk scented trails and glades kissed by the sun even in winter. And down in the valley, among sheep, cows, wild boars and small families of pigs, olive trees, oaks and fruit trees was the Mediterranean woodland.
In this wild and romantic place, I imagined 'Le stalle di Giurò'. It is a country house, where we live deep in the nature. Our life moves in time with the flowering season, the movements of the sun, the crickets and cicadas excited during the day, the fireflies that light up at dusk by the Milky Way taking your breath away every night. It is the ideal place to explore the real Cilento: a region that is still unknown to mass tourism. It preserves its dialects, songs, old festivals and traditional flavors.
We are at Roccagloriosa, the country of origin of my family, for which a rule has been applied for generations, intended as a spell or curse: people who leave this town, in the end they will always come back. A couple of streets and a dozen lanes, with country manors dating back to the time when the earth and its fruit were the only wealth acknowledged by men. At Rocca everything is made of stone: the fountain that welcomes you at the entrance of the village, the streets, the old houses, the stairs that lead you there. So far, I think my Petrosi has been a source of inspiration to many in this picturesque corner of South Italy. From downtown, take the steep road, which has been used for centuries by peasants and lords to reach their lands. When you turn your back to ordinary life, you are enchanted by the beauty and tranquility of the countryside here. First, the scents: hay, mauve...
Go down: vineyards, olive trees, harvesting nets; come down again: land and fences.
Then Petrosi. And here we are.