Reggio during the Holidays, a trip to Gambarie, and New Years

Gambarie and life in Reggio
View the Gambarie Album

I often stated during my ten-day stay in Reggio Calabria that it was definitely harder than walking, and I really was not joking. As everyone was on vacation for two weeks (yes, Italians receive the same amount of time for Christmas as most Americans get all year), a party atmosphere prevailed for my entire stay, and I did not go to bed before three or wake up before 11. After all that healthy living, this lifestyle took its toll on me, and I realized that I had outgrown it, since after all I had lived four years of it during college.

However, this realization came only at the end, and as I am not the type to go home when something is going on, and neither is Enzo, we made sure to live it up as much as possible. There was lots of card playing nights and parties centered around gambling (poker, bingo, and randomly enough, baccarat), which though I mostly watched from the sideline were interesting from a cultural perspective (not to mention that the holiday sweets were always bounteous). Besides these evenings, we milled around the Corso and hit up bars often.

There was even an excursion to a mountain cabin above Reggio, to a little town called Gambarie. The Aspromonte, in the interior of Calabria, featured year-round snow, countless nature trails, ski slopes, and a sleepy square of shops and food markets. Having decided only that day to head up, we spent the early afternoon buying lots of food, and when we had picked up all the guys at their houses, we drove the 45 minutes up, blasting traditional humorous songs in the Calabrian dialect.

The cabin was charming, a two-story rustic building filled with appropriate decorations and furnishings, and the first order of business was to build a blazing fire. Once we were nice and warm, we settled in for some card playing, with an entertaining variant of Uno using Neapolitan playing cards.

There was also lots of story telling, meat eating, and wine drinking. Actually, it bears mention that each person had brought bottles of wine made by their relatives in the country, that this was a common practice and an acceptable alternative to buying wine in stores. Sure, the quality was not top-notch, but each bottle was delicious in its own way, tasting like the earth that produced it and reminiscent of ancient customs.

The next morning was warm enough for us to go on a nature hike in the woods, and between hopping over streams and searching for mushrooms, we managed to appreciate the dominant beauty of this area. Having worked up a hunger, we had a lunch of giant sandwiches and beers, and enjoyed each other's company until the coming of evening, when it was time to descend back to reality.

New Years
View the New Years Prep album - lots of food shots!
View the New Years party album

As you might expect, the planning for New Years revolved around Italy's favorite pastime, eating, and we were lucky to have an ace up our sleeve in Antonio, who had taken courses in Italian cuisine and had even worked a bit as a chef. The tradition with this group of friends was different from the norm, as they ate an all-fish dinner on New Years Eve.

Enzo and I headed over to Antonio's place around three, and he was already up to his elbows in seafood. We all kept him company, performed simple tasks like shelling shrimp and de-scaling fish, and went out to buy a few last-minute items, as well as some white wine from Campania and Sicily. It was interesting to me that wines from other parts of the country more world-famous for their production, such as Piedmont, Tuscany, and Trentino Alto Adige, were never seriously considered, and that wines from other countries were non-existent in the store. They all say "why pay more for a foreign wine when your next door neighbor makes it better for dirt cheap?" And I can see where they're coming from, even if I disagree.

After a quick trip home to dress up a bit (Enzo lent me some clothes, another manifestation of his extremely generous nature), we came back to Antonio's, and saw an absolute bonanza, a true feast of mouth-watering proportions. There was swordfish roulade (or involtini, as they call them), seasoned sardines, shrimp risotto, a giant fish baked under salt, octopus salad, handmade ravioli filled with shrimp, swordfish sashimi, stuffed calamari, and more.

The meal lasted three hours, included various courses, and was more than anyone could handle. It was time to start partying.

We watched the countdown on TV, everyone counting aloud together, and then the pop of multiple bottles of prosecco (not champagne, mind you) punctuated the passing of the New Year, along with hollering, singing, and jumping up and down. Everyone exchanged hugs, blew on noisemakers, and went outside to light off fireworks. They weren't alone either: Reggio sounded like a war zone, with huge explosions sounding off every few seconds, followed by joyful squeals.

And just for a moment, a brief minute or two, I missed my home, my family, my friends, and my country. I had been away a long time, and I sighed a secret sigh amidst the delirious festivities.

It really only did last a few minutes, though, and I returned to the group, who were just then flinging fireworks off the balcony and tittering enthusiastically. Deciding to share a bit of my New Years traditions, I found Glenn Miller's version of Auld Lang Syne on YouTube, the classic big band version of that indispensable New Year's anthem, and soon had everyone dancing.

We danced a bit, the noisemakers and kazoos only grew louder with each glass of prosecco, and then we did the bar shuffle, exchanging greetings with all of Reggio, and running down the main drag in a dance train. After the bars closed at 4:30, it was off to a house party, where we continued the festivities until 7:30 or so in the morning.

I was an absolute wreck the next day, worn out from the compounded effects of 9 straight days of craziness. It was time for me to get back on the road, and I was more than ready.