Tropea, a charming town in Calabria, Southern Italy, was voted Italy's most beautiful town in 2021. Photo / 123rf
It’s the ultimate travel goal - finding a slice of Italy that isn’t saturated with tourists. Brace yourselves, because much to everyone’s surprise, such a place still exists, writes Kate Wickers.
Under a tangerine sky, I’m drifting in a boat on the spearmint-blue Tyrrhenian Sea, gazing towards the sunset and cone-shaped volcanic island of Stromboli, smoke visible at its summit, and feeling every inch like an extra in Game of Thrones.
Behind me is the pearl of Southern Italy’s Calabria region – the town of Tropea - likely to be the most attractive settlement in Italy you’ve never heard of, winning the much-coveted Borgo dei Borghi (village of villages) title in 2021.
To take in its full glory, it really must be seen from the water, with noble buildings soaring atop 70m-high granite cliffs, part of la Costa degli Dei (Coast of the Gods) that stretches some 55km.
From this watery vantage point, I understand why Tropea is thought to take its name from the Greek word tropaia, meaning trophies, or from tropis, meaning ship’s hull, as sailors say that, glimpsed through swirling sea mists, it is this the town resembles.
Calabria has never made it onto the well-beaten tourist trail due to a combination of things: its relative remoteness at Italy’s ‘toe’, the unforgiving (yet wildly romantic) landscape, and tales of the notorious ‘Ndrangheta, the Calabrian Mafia, with roots in the 18th Century.
Make the effort to get here (perhaps the slow, coast-hugging train from Naples is the nicest option if you’ve time) and Tropea and its surrounding countryside is a joy to explore, made for connecting with the culture in an unhurried way.
It’s the northern Italians who flock here in July and August, a trend that keeps tourism standards high (after all, no self-respecting southern Italian restaurateur would serve a soggy-bottomed pizza to a northern rival).
From November until March many local businesses pull down their shutters, making spring and autumn the loveliest times to visit with average temperatures of 20 degrees in April and the same in October.
My lodgings are in Villa Paola, a former 16th Century convent located a 15-minute stroll from the town. It was monks, not nuns, who lived here for 200 years until a noble family took up residence in the 18th Century.
It’s now reimagined as a boutique hotel with the former monks’ refectory serving as an elegant book-filled lounge and double bedrooms within cloisters situated around an interior garden of palms and potted olive trees. From the terrace, under the vast umbrella-like canopy of a 400-year-old Mediterranean pine (witness to all that has gone on here), views are to the port and Tropea.
Legend has it that Hercules founded the town, after completing his 12 labours, arriving dripping from the sea like James Bond in Casino Royale (locals joke that he was their first tourist). Contemporary Calabrian cuisine from Chef Eman Pucci can be enjoyed (try his five-course season-sensitive tasting menu) al fresco, or when evenings grow colder in Michelin-recommended restaurant De Minimi.
Next day, I take a walking tour with local archaeologist, Dario Godano, who has the facts: the first traces of human settlement here date from the Neolithic period, and in the 3rd Century BC the Romans snatched Tropea from the Greeks, who’d colonised Calabria in the 8th and 7th centuries BC. The town has been squabbled over through the centuries until the Tropeans clubbed together and bought the town’s autonomy from King Philip III of Spain in 1615.
In the oldest quarter, we wander through a jigsaw of lanes lined with grand palazzi built in 18th Century when 80 noble families lived here. “I have something special to show you,” promises Dario, pointing upwards. “Can you see Margaret Thatcher just up there?” This is not what I was expecting. He’s referring to a stone grotesque chiselled under a balcony that does indeed resemble the British former prime minister.
These faces were sculpted (long before Maggie’s time) to ward off evil, testament to how conniving one’s aristocratic neighbours were. Palazzo Bragho, built in 1721, is the exception with a huge stone portico embellished with attractive organic forms of shells, leaves and fruit.
The striking Norman cathedral was built at the end of the 11th Century, home to two undetonated bombs that could have wiped the town out in WWII if it hadn’t been for the protection of the town’s patron saint, Our Lady of Romania (also credited as defender against earthquakes, or so the story goes). Although she didn’t save Santa Maria dell’Isola, a 6th-century Benedictine monastery that’s had several makeovers thanks to seismic activity.
Today, it serves as the pin-up for Tropea tourism, sitting prettily atop a rocky islet, and is best viewed at sunset from Afficione del Cannone (a square named for its 17th Century canon that provides a nifty climbing frame for local kids), where crowds gather to watch Santa Maria’s sandstone walls glow amber. Before the show, grab an ice cream of pistachio or refreshing bergamot (a plump sour citrus fruit only grown in this region) from nearby Gelateria Nonna Rosa.
For a small attraction (though soon to be expanding in 2024), the Museum of the Sea packs punches, located in a charming, white-washed niche of the Santa Chiara Convent. The fossilised sea urchins are a delight, but its biggest prize is the world’s most complete skeleton of a metaxytherium (an extinct genus of the dugong), and the planet’s second oldest shark tooth.
“Bevendo vino (drinking wine)” comes the statement rather than question from any waiter here. As no Southern Italian lunch would be complete without a glass I acquiesce, receiving a nod of approval. Predominantly family-owned restaurants, the best often tucked away in cobbled plazas (such as Ristorante Ambrosia), are the places to while away the hours and watch life wander by. The chewy local pasta fileja (rolled on a wire to an elongated, slightly curved shape and made without egg) so often stars on the menu as does Nduja, the region’s spicy sausage (now achieving global stardom) tossed in all from arancini to pasta sauces.
Tartufo is another stalwart on the menu in this region: an ice cream bomb with melted chocolate at its centre that originated in the nearby village of Pizzo. Not to be missed is ‘the red queen’, a sweet variety of red onion from Tropea that features in so many recipes (try them as a snack in onion fritters or arancini balls). To learn more about this prized vegetable, I take a tour with fourth-generation local grower, Marco Furchi.
“We call this black gold,” Marco says, referring to onion seeds that he sows painstakingly by hand. “Once the seedlings show, we must replant again.” Typical of small-scale businesses in Italy, this is a family concern. “Everyone must help during harvest and then we have a big party,” Marco tells me, making light of the work involved.
The Tropea onion is sweet and crunchy because of its low content of water and pyruvic acid. As we stand amid the freshly planted onion fields, and the sun warms the crop, the aroma is strong. Later, around the kitchen table, once I’ve said ‘ciao’ to Marco’s mama and papa, I taste all that the Furchi family produce: caponata with onion, tomatoes, capers, and aubergine; cipolla caramellata (a sweet, caramelised onion chutney); farmhouse pecorino cheese doused in honey from bees that his uncle keeps; and Bergamot marmalade among the most delicious.
To explore the coastline, riddled with caves and powder-soft beaches only accessible by boat, I catch a ride with Sea Sports Tropea and head out towards Capo Vaticano, where, with views to Sicily, I jump ship to swim in crystalline waters, the colour of which would give the Maldives a run for its money. Below the cliffs, I’m in arguably the best snorkelling spot in Italy, floating amidst harmless translucent jellyfish.
The town’s public beach lies below Santa Maria dell’Isola and has a pleasingly retro feel. Here, men strut in speedos and women in floral swim hats breaststroke into crystal-clear water.
Tomorrow, I’ve plans to hike through in the lesser-known, heather-carpeted Serre Natural Park, amid silver fir and chestnut trees, where the air is scented with camphoraceous myrtle and wild liquorice, but for now, in keeping with the slow travel that Tropea is made for, I roll out my towel and let the lively Italian chatter and lap of waves lull me to sleep.
GETTING THERE
Emirates, Qatar Airways, Singapore Airlines, China Southern and China Eastern all fly from Auckland to Rome with one stopover. A domestic flight with ITA Airways between Rome and Tropea in Calabria takes 1 hour, 10 minutes.
DETAILS
Experiencing phenomena like the Northern Lights makes up for long work hours, Kiwi says.