Hitchcock at his best

As many of you know this past summer I had a three-week sojourn in Italy that can only be described as brilliant!   A couple of my summer blogs dealt with some of the activities and my misadventures during my trip, but there is one particular day that truly stands out from the rest.

The Artist colony at Dolceacqua
is definitely worth a visit! 

I remember thinking to myself as I exited the hotel Europa in downtown San Remo that it was another gorgeous day in paradise (Italy truly is – no question!  :-)  and that adventure was in the air!    My sights were set upon exploring the host of medieval hill towns inland from the coast.   I’d heard from a number of people who I’d met over the prior week that this valley was one of the hidden gems of this region.

It’s a short drive from San Remo to the turn off toward Camporosso at Bordighera, the road leads up the Nevia valley, which skirts the French and Italian frontier. Like most of the hill towns the first thing you notice is the impressive and imposing church towers which are generally  located at the highest point within the village (commune), clearly dating themselves back to 14^th and 15^th century.  Each commune was complete with heavily worn and cobbled streets that weave this way and that, quickly turning the visitor in circles and disorienting them completely.   I’m not sure if this was purposeful, but it’s truly effective as every alleyway looks the same no matter which way you turn!  

Dolceacqua is the home of a thriving artist colony for which I was treated to a host of craftspeople painting and drawing outside their studios, I sat transfixed for sometime as I watched painting after painting emerge from the series of canvas’ skillfully created by these contemporary masters.   Apparently Dolceacqua has more than its fair share of well-known artists residing year round in the village – who knew???

Now that I’d had my artistic bent satiated I was looking to find other treasures on my adventure…  

The further I ventured into this extremely mountainous region the narrower the roads became until it was little more than a path, which the car straddled precariously.  A couple of times the road was so narrow that when I actually encountered another vehicle one of us had to reverse back along the path until we found a place wide enough for two so that we could pass one another.

Narrow Italian mountain roads in the Imperia region

You might think I’m exaggerating but really it was little more than a goat or donkey path, and likely the original track used by travelers for the past 4 to 5 centuries, if not longer!   Often the “road” (if I dare call it that), was cut into the side of a mountain, this generally was not equipped with side rails or actually anything between you and the bottom of the valley.   It was one of those days that you dare not get too close to the edge of the road or dwell on it too long lest it freak you out completely.

By mid afternoon I had eventually made my way up an ever narrowing valley until I noticed a small hill town set way up high on the pinnacle of a small but steep mountain.  Parking on the side of the road I thought that the views from the village would be spectacular so grabbed my backpack and set off up the road toward the commune some 400M above me.  

The sun was baking hot that afternoon and it wasn’t long before the rivulets of sweat were beginning to bead on my forehead and run freely down my back.   Although it was only 400M up the mountain, combined with the heat it was exhaustingly steep, this was the part where I was now glad that I had packed a large water bottle and hat.  

Another alleyway with the
omnipresent Vespa

Entering the town at a small stone gate I made my way up the cobbled street toward the commanding church tower.    After a couple of minutes of weaving my way through the confusing alleyways I stood trying to get my bearings….   I realized that I still hadn’t seen a sign of life yet – not even a cat or a dog (usually in abundance, mostly lying lazily on a front step or in a doorway) but so far I hadn’t seen a single thing that would convince me that this town was even inhabited, no tourists or even local inhabitants?!.

I nervously looked around and although there were doors open, they squeaked and groaned in the afternoon breeze not a soul was to be seen.   Trying to put anything untoward out of my mind I tried to shake it off and find the main square and associated church tower.  

Eventually I located it and quickly sat in its shadow taking a break from the heat and a drink of water, while I tried not to think about the fact the town was officially spooky…. (I could definitely imagine Alfred Hitchcock making a movie in a place like this).  The more I thought about it the more the hair on the back of my neck began to stand on end and an uneasy feeling passed over me, strange because I’m not easily rattled but for some reason this place did it for me.

Castel Vittorio would be the ideal location 
for a Hitchcock movie set - no need to do anything

Now the trick was to find my way back to the stone gate and my car.   Damn it the alleys all look frustratingly the same, and nothing but the sound of the wind blowing through the alleyways and the doors creaking open in the breeze really started to get to me.

Eventually after a number of attempts I was able to locate the gate and make my hasty exit from Castel Vittorio.   Unnerving would be the best way to describe it!

The day was one of contrasts – extreme beauty of the coastline, classical mountain scenes, the artist colony, narrow mountain roads and finally a completely deserted hill town….   Wow, Italy certainly was surprising!

Epilogue:

Apparently Castel Vittorio has a population of 397 inhabitants (Castellesi)!   Who knew???