Page 9 - Mediterraneo e dintorni - nr 11

Marina di Pisciotta, panorama (foto John Jackson) Donne (foto John Jackson)

terra bagnata da un mare biblico generazioni. In quasi ogni fami- dall’unico palazzo che domina la
e protetta da fiere montagne. Se glia c’è una discendenza con- discrezione del centro storico.
è vero che la morfologia del ter- tadina, che nel tempo si è amal- In tempi di turismo slow, farvi
ritorio riflette la tempra di chi lo gamata alla borghesia e a quella due passi in Cilento non è un’i-
vive, allora nei profili diffidenti poca nobiltà rurale che, in alcuni dea così malsana. Scordatevi la
del Cilento si coglie lo spirito di borghi, vi capita di riconoscere vida loca e godetevi la varietà del

Acciaroli (foto John Jackson)

a walk in Cilento is not such an unhealthy idea. Forget the vida loca and enjoy the va-
riety of the landscape: in one day you can go from trekking in the mountains to the be-
ach with disarming speed. If the hinterland is almost a separate discourse, mysterious
and mystical like the Certosa in Padula, its undisputed symbol, the coast is a flou-
rishing of biodiversity. Here the Mediterranean forest climbs on cliffs overlooking
the sea, before slipping lightly on beaches dominated by ancient Saracen towers. The
Mediterranean Diet, of which so much is decanted, is born here, from the studies of
Ancel Keys in the fifties and sixties on the eating habits of the place, based on poor
foods (pasta, fish, fruit, vegetables, legumes and olive oil) and guarantors of longevity
compared to the more substantial habits of northern Europe. You just need to pop
into Pioppi, the biologist’s home for forty years, or to nearby Acciaroli, to discover a
wonderful little world, made of transparent water and little squares where cards are
played, or you just stop and enjoy the weather. Rolling south, you will stumble across
the alleys of Pisciotta, and its Marina: here we speak only one language, that of the an-
chovies of Menaica, a slow food presidia. Don’t stop here, you are too close to the myth
of Palinuro to let it slip away. Its promontory marks the crossing of currents and
stories that slide back in time to the Aeneid and its caves and inlets are the missing
link between earth and sky. The photos of this article are by John Jackson, probably the
only living English in Cilento. Sometimes it is a stranger’s eye that reminds us of the
true beauty of the place we come from.

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