With the tiny Italian port of Porto Santo Stefano so much in the news these days after the tragic grounding there of the cruise ship, the Costa Concordia , I couldn’t help recalling happier memories of our time spent there in September 2010.
We’d left the Amalfi Coast after what can only be described as the most magical experience touring that beautiful coastline and headed past Rome to what appeared to be a good spot to stop overnight.
I knew nothing about the place, but from what I could see on the map, Orbetello, the town closest to Porto Santo Stefano, appeared to be on a spit of land between two huge lakes, and as we’re both water lovers we thought this looked like a picturesque place to absorb the natural beauty.
We arrived late afternoon and set about finding a hotel in the town because we figured at this stage of the day we were unlikely to find a bed in the port itself.
Besides, it might be a grotty place.
Round and round the main streets we drove, stopping at some hotels to ask for rooms, with no luck until we came to one overlooking the southern lake.
‘What’s that smell?’ I asked, wrinkling my nose as we left our vehicle, but that was quickly forgotten as we entered the tastefully furnished hotel and asked the charming young woman behind the desk if she had a room and how much it would be.
She did have a room and when we’d picked ourselves off the floor at the exorbitant price, especially when compared to the inexpensive Amalfi Coast, we decided there was nothing for it. We’d better take the room and write it off to experience.
Once settled in, we set off to explore, and soon discovered the reason for the smell.
The lakes, which it turns out is actually a massive lagoon, are used as dumping grounds for sewage.
Up close, we could see the scum coating the rocks lining the shore and the smell once unidentifiable now became familiar.
What a letdown!
Committed now and undeterred, we made our way past sports fields and parks, shops and houses, and were universally amazed at how dilapidated everything was.
And yet the people were happy, oblivious to the smell and the signs of decay around them. They sat in the parks or watched their children, and they stopped on street corners or outside cafes to laugh and talk with neighbours.
This was the famed dolce vita in practice.
We came back from our walk feeling happy and inspired and did some research into the town.
Given its excellent strategic position on the strip of land between two lagoons, Orbetello has always been much sought as the first line of defence against invasion from the sea. It’s an ancient Etruscan settlement, and in 280 BC control passed to the Romans, who at that time had a colony called Cosa, an important Roman archaeological site near what is now Ansedonia. In the Middle Ages it became a possession of the Aldobrandeschi family, and in the 14th century, it was taken over by the city of Orvieto. After many tumultuous squabbles between the Orsini of Pitigliano and Orvieto, it was captured by the Sienese Republic, and in the mid-16th century became the capital of the Spanish puppet State of Presides, before falling under the Grand Duchy of Tuscany and later the newly unified Kingdom of Italy.
The polygonal wall which dominates the city was probably built by the Etruscans, although these would have been added to and changed by later occupiers. Derived as it is from Latin words, the name Orbetello reflects the town’s Roman past, and there is some discussion as to what it actually means, the favourites being circular city, city of herbs or city of Rome.
Having done our research and eaten our dinner, we turned in, but what a terrible night we had! The air-conditioner was so loud it felt like we had a truck in the room with us, and it was set so cold that I had to get up and don tracksuit longs and a jersey. I couldn’t find any extra blankets so ended up putting a pillow over my feet to keep them warm. We only found the switch for the air-conditioner at 6.30 am. Yuck! And we paid so much for the place.
We had breakfast – a fantastic buffet – but there only seemed to be four people staying in the hotel, and it seemed such a waste. We plucked up the courage to ask for caffe col latte (coffee with milk) hoping my husband would not have to drink the two tablespoonfuls of pure caffeine usually dished up as coffee. As he said, there was no point in adding sugar because it would just make the whole thing into a sticky syrup. But coffee with milk proved to be a whole pot full of the strong espresso with an equal quantity of hot milk provided. Very generous and the gesture was really appreciated, but it was still undrinkable, even when mixed half and half.
We English-speakers are an insipid bunch.
The Italians shuddered when I asked for tea (te), but they also couldn’t understand why we like such weak coffee – and with milk added.
After checking out, we stopped off at the supermarket to buy some supplies, then found an autoteller and withdrew money. Then it was back to the car where the supermarket owner was prowling the car park, ready to turf out anyone who wasn’t one of his shoppers.
We headed out along the bridge towards Porto Santo Stefano and it proved to be such a great move. We wished we’d stayed there instead of in our expensive hotel. There were so many nice places and I’m sure they would have been cheaper.
The sea was that azure blue, the sun was shining and the port was filled with day-trippers and residents enjoying the autumn weather. We watched the ferry leave for one of the nearby islands, and we could also see the islands of Elba and Montecristo in the distance. All about were luxurious sailing and motor yachts, and around every corner in every bay there were yachts moored and people enjoying the weather.
With all our lovely memories of Porto Santo Stefano, our hearts can only go out to the families of those whose loved ones have perished there.
We left Porto San Stefano via another land bridge filled with holiday camps, heading towards Sienna, wishing that we’d travelled just that bit further on the first day and found the wonderful little port instead.