The exquisite cheese and spinach ravioli are melting in my mouth one by one, and I am already daydreaming of our next course, stewed rabbit, when he grabs my attention.
“There are still witches here,” Lorenzo Lanteri, mayor of the 400-person hamlet of Triora, says matter-of-factly between bites of his own ravioli. Lanteri should know, and he also ought to know who these witches are, but my questions—first subtle and then direct—come up dry.
All day, I'd been trying to figure out what remained of the town's legacy—between 1587 and 1590, about 200 women were accused of being witches, tortured and put on trial. Some were even executed by the Genovese authorities. Many historians believe that these government officials were trying to create a diversion from illegal activities that were taking place there. Others claim that the accusations against the women started in Triora after years of bad harvests, which pushed the starving people to look for scapegoats.
Arriving in Triora, a village nestled on a hilltop in the foothills of the Maritime Alps at the western end of Liguria, is like taking a step back in time. Though Triora is less than an hour's drive from the hustle and bustle of Liguria's beach towns, the village's ancient alleyways—too narrow for cars and too steep for the faint of heart—invoke a vivid past as they snake their way past 500-year-old palazzi.
"The locals insist there are still witches here, but we haven't seen any yet," says Anita Watson, an English woman who bought a home in Triora a year ago and flies down once a month with her husband Simon. "We haven't figured out who they are yet, but we have some ideas."
Several people told me about Antonietta, a local woman in her seventies, who "goes shopping in the fields" for herbs and flowers; people turn to her when they have rashes, burns or muscle aches. Others spoke of 85-year-old Amalia who lives in the neighboring village of Molini di Triora and is said to be a good witch who watches over the Trioresi, as the residents are called. Their powers could not be independently confirmed.
Triora's witch-hunting past is inescapable; a large witch greets you with a seductive smile on the BENVENUTI A TRIORA sign as you enter the town and a wrought-iron witch stands in one of the main squares.
But the town's present is even more enticing than its past and provides a perfect backdrop for the Italian fairy tale that's waiting to be written: dense forests of chestnuts and walnut trees in every direction; howling wolves, wild boars and sinister-looking mushrooms; a small town perched on the side of a mountain that's periodically shrouded in a thick mist; a few witches; numerous black cats; ancient stone bridges crossing rivers sixty feet below; an inn located in a former convent; a pretty hotel owner, and a jolly old mayor you wish were your grandfather.
During my dinner with the mayor, the rabbit doesn't disappoint nor does the homemade vanilla gelato or oddly green herbal liqueur that Mayor Lanteri and I sip well into the evening at the Colomba d'Oro, a cozy hotel in a renovated convent whose restaurant serves local dishes.
My curiosity was sufficiently whetted by Mayor Lanteri's reserve on the topic of present-day witches, so I set out early the next morning—the herbal liqueur still fogging my senses—to see if Triora's winding streets could lead me somewhere. First stop, a crumbling building just outside the city walls with a plaque describing it as the historical meeting place for local witches.
Next, a nearby outdoor exhibit reveals that "witches were and are normal women, often beautiful and sometimes enchanting." Nearby a life-size mannequin of an attractive young witch presides over a boiling pot and jars filled with sinister ingredients.
With no more clues, except that perhaps I should be searching for a beautiful and enchanting local woman, I next take for a stroll through Triora's surrounding hills and forests. There are numerous walks starting from Triora, the easiest and nicest of which takes you past the fourteenth-century San Bernardino Church, down to the river Argentina and then to the village of Loreto, home to three families. You can make your way back to Triora along a quiet asphalt road or through a forest that in fall is dense with chestnuts, mushrooms and walnuts.
For the more ambitious, there is a seven-hour round-trip hike from Triora to Monte Saccarello, which straddles the French-Italian border and at 7,300 feet is the highest peak in Liguria. Many locals are happy to point out the well-marked trails and recommend their favorite resting spots along the way.
Triora also offers relaxing afternoons in the garden of the Colomba d'Oro as well as day-trips to the Rivera—the nicest beaches are west of Sanremo heading toward the French border. Or visit the bustling fish market at Imperia to see what swims in the Mediterranean. The local cuisine deftly meshes Liguria's fish, vegetables, foccacia and extra virgin olive oil with the game, polenta and butter of nearby Piedmont.
Triora's clean air, the result of its pristine location 2,500 feet above sea level far from any city—as well as the relaxed lifestyle and steep streets (that make visits to the gym superfluous)—have created healthy living conditions that are hard to match. "Reaching ninety in Triora is not particularly noteworthy," says Mayor Lanteri, himself a devoted grandfather, but still only two-thirds of the way to the century mark. "We have four people over a hundred, including my elementary school teacher."
Mayor Lanteri, the town historian, is spearheading an effort to make Triora the center for the study of witchcraft and the occult in Italy. He has organized several national conferences on witchcraft there, and an international follow-up, to be attended by French and German experts, is slated for late 2007. The town is restoring the Renaissance Palazzo Stella, once a grand residence in the center of town but now largely in ruins since the Germans destroyed it in 1944 in reprisal for local support of the partisans during the Second World War.
The Trioresi have scattered over the years—some to France in the 1950s in search of work, others to the Ligurian coast in the past decade to take more part in twenty-first-century life and still others to Milan, Turin and Genoa for university studies—but their attachment to the land remains strong.
"I knew I'd return sooner or later because something was calling me; I don't know what it was, but here I am," says Simona Pastor, a pretty Triora native whose family moved to Sanremo when she was a child. She came back to Triora six years ago to run the Colomba d'Oro, a move made easier by her effortless linguistic jumps between Italian, English, French and German. "This is my home, and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."
In the past five years several foreigners have bought second homes in Triora, enticed by the spectacular setting and the pleasant ninety-minute ride from the airport in Nice. Others have made the town their primary home.
"I've lived all over Europe, but I ended up buying a house in Triora, because the hills are beautiful, the people are friendly and the town is close to everything," says Judy Sale, an American artist who moved to Triora in 2001. "I was planning to buy a place in France, but a friend brought me here on vacation and five days later I bought a house."
Sale's abstract paintings, as well as the work of other contemporary artists, line the walls of her home, a converted convent with striking views of the surrounding hills and forests. Sale still paints, but lately has dedicated much of her time to buying, renovating and reselling houses in Triora. She also is looking for sponsorship to open a contemporary art gallery.
Bringing anything contemporary to Triora, even if just a painting, would be a novelty for a town so inexorably linked to its past. This past is worth exploring at the local museum, housed in the very building where the witch trials were held. "The witches are still very present," maintains Anna Saldo, an elderly woman who works at the museum. The collection provides a glimpse of village history, flora and fauna, but it does not explain the otherworldly aura of Triora.
"There is a certain mysticism to this place that's hard to pinpoint," claims Anita's husband Simon Watson. "The locals tell you to be careful what you wish for because it will come true."
PLANNING YOUR TRIP
—Joanna Goddard
How to Get There
Triora is approximately a two-hour drive from Nice or Genoa along a breath-taking coastal and mountain route.
You can also take a two-hour train ride from Nice to Sanremo (about $26) or Genoa to Sanremo (about $21), and then a ninety-minute bus trip from Sanremo to Triora. The bus runs three times daily.
Where to Stay
Hotel Colomba d'Oro offers panoramic views of the valleys. Its twenty-eight rooms are simply furnished but clean and pleasant. Request number 312, which has a large terrace and a sweeping view of the hills. ("I am jealous of that room," says hotel owner Simona.) Open year round, rates range from 35 euro to 60 euro per person. www.columbadoro.it, 0184 94051
To rent a one-bedroom apartment in a former convent (sleeps two to four), call owner Judy Sale. Rates range from $600 to $650 a week, based on seasonal rates. Open May to October. 0184 94330.
How to Get Around (and Where to Go)
Renting a car provides the freedom for exhilarating side trips. Sanremo, the bustling beach town about 25 miles south of Triora, is famous for its casino and luxury shopping. Head there for an evening walk along the sea and to try your luck at the tables. Or consider extending your trip by a few days to experience both sides of Liguria: Drive three hours east along the Ligurian coast to Cinque Terre, a cluster of five popular fishing villages (Monterosso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore), which offer beautiful seaside hikes and fresh fish.
Where to Eat
Hotel Colomba d'Oro has a charming restaurant. The seasonal menu features mushrooms, tomatoes, homemade pasta and rabbit (which "everyone eats for lunch on Sundays—everyone," says owner Simona.) Guests enjoy outdoor seating on warm evenings. A three-course meal with wine costs about 30 euro. 0184 940600
Directly across the street from the hotel is Pane di Triora, the town bakery. "My father has been making bread here for fifty-five years," says Ornella Asplanato, who helps run the business. The local wheat bread is at its most delicious when sliced, toasted and topped with tomatoes, extra virgin olive oil and basil. Also try the canestrelli (crisp ring-shaped crackers made with olive oil) and sardenara (a pizza-like bread with olives, onions, tomatoes and anchovies).
Don't miss La Capanna dei Celti, a tiny gem in Montalto Ligure, a 15-minute drive south on the main road from Triora. The owner and chef, Marcello Panizzi, worked in Belgium, Italy and France, and his diverse, upscale menu reflects this. He also produces his own fois gras and wine. "Marcello made champagne last year for my parents when they visited from France," says his wife and restaurant host Viviane Barnard. "It was wonderful." The rustic restaurant has a handful of wooden tables, where guests linger all evening. Open for dinner only; closed Mondays and Tuesdays in the winter. A three-course meal with wine costs 30 euro to 40 euro. Reservations at least a week in advance are recommended. 0184 408381
Chez Braccioforte, a family-run seafood restaurant founded in 1892, is located in Imperia, a fishing village about 30 miles southeast of Triora. It's worth a trip. Serving lunch and dinner, the waterfront restaurant features fish fresh off the boats that dock right outside. The owners take pride in their menu, and the charming 23-year-old waiter Riccardo Martini (the fifth generation working in the restaurant) recommends house specials such as fresh pasta with eggplant and fish; seafood soup with scampi, mussels, clams, potatoes, zucchini and carrots; and tuna with olive paste, tomatoes and lettuce. A two-course meal with wine costs about 45 euro. 0183 294752
