Goodbye to Our Nonno House

Autumn is slowly creeping into our area. The grape and olive harvests are in full swing. The days are lovely and warm, but not uncomfortably hot. Nights are sometimes cool enough for a light blanket.

For some reason, autumn always reminds me of Nonno’s house, our summer home. It’s the house my husband was born in, and which we’ve visited since we arrived in Italy over 36 years ago.

Our kids loved going ‘over the river and through the woods’ to Nonno’s house! In the photo below, you can see the bridge we crossed and the beautiful, wooded, mountainous landscape!

“It’s just like Heidi’s house!” they would exclaim upon arrival. And the old-fashioned home built into the side of the mountain really did seem like it! Except it wasn’t quite so isolated.

The home where my husband was born

Back then, people in this area didn’t go to the hospital because it was too far away, and they probably didn’t have a car or money for hospital bills. Home births were the norm, so he was born right here.

This humble village in the remote mountains of Italy’s Campania region is still sadly lacking in many amenities. Years ago, it was even worse.

Nevertheless, it was an enchanting holiday destination for our children. They could roam freely through the countryside, splash in the fountains, and collect nature specimens. They also loved visiting Nonno at the coffee bar where he played cards with his paesani. I think the ice cream cones he always bought were, of course, a big incentive to visit him.

Occasionally, they could even catch a ride on a farmer’s donkey. Now, what child wouldn’t love such a place?

Such was a visit to Nonno’s house!

It was a different time of simpler days and a slower pace. A time when people enjoyed simple pleasures and lived life to the fullest, without the internet, shopping malls, and mobile phones. We created our own fun. We made time to spend with friends and neighbors. We had time to watch ants working and birds flying. We took the time to smell the roses, take leisurely strolls, and relax, free from the stress of so many deadlines and schedules.

Yet, even in our first visits in 1989, the agricultural way of life that made traditional Italy so special was disappearing. Along with it, went the simpler, slower quality of life that has nearly been lost in most of Europe. As Europe’s cultures slowly become more globalised and homogeneous, in my opinion, they lose much of their cultural wealth.

But who knows? Perhaps the stress and difficulties we’re experiencing in the Western world will prompt us to return to a simpler way of life. Maybe we can reclaim some of the true treasures we’ve lost along the way. I hope so because I believe that places like our grandfather house should always exist.

Yet everything changes

Last summer, I wrote that our visits to Nonno’s house were coming to an end. Once I have recovered from my surgery, we are planning to head south and close the house permanently. It has become too difficult for me to travel there and to climb the long, steep stairs leading up to it.

As the town turns into a ghost town, it has become rather depressing. Every time we visit, the town gossip is dominated by the latest funerals and the people who are leaving the area. Sadly, we have seen the population drop from 800 to 200 during our years in Italy. It’s been heartbreaking to witness, and I’m sure it’s even more devastating for those who still live there.

The dismantling of our Nonno’s house will mark the end of something very special to us. It will be particularly difficult for Hubby as it’s his ancestral home. There’s a lot of emotional attachment there. But it it’s also sad because, in many ways it’s like seeing an era and a way of life come to an end.

However, I hope that some of the best aspects of that era and way of life will endure. I will certainly do my best to keep them alive in our home and among our family. Nonno and his house will live on in our hearts, as will the traditions we grown to love!

Images are my own.