
Italy's greatest treasures are its undiscovered villages – and I should know
I was born in a little town by the sea, between Rome and Naples. This is the English sentence I uttered the most throughout my school years and later in my academic life when, as a young mathematician, I used to leave the Università di Napoli for summer schools and conferences abroad.
The scholars I met never knew the name of my town, Scauri. Some had heard about nearby Gaeta (because of the prison, and the Nazi who was imprisoned there, and his escape in a suitcase), but no one knew Scauri.
Scauri is a hamlet in the district of Minturno, a coastal town at the very edge of the province of Lazio. As I write these lines, there is no Wikipedia page about Scauri in English.
Nor is there an English page about Minturnae, Minturno's ancient ruins. Both sit along the Via Appia, the main artery of Roman Italy – the Romans called it regina viarum, the queen of all roads.
You may not have heard of them, but it is these tiny, barely noticed places which remain the heart and soul of Italy – and to visit them remains the finest way to get beneath my country's skin.
Anyone who spends a morning in Scauri will be captured by the disjointed grace of this place – my place. As if on a chessboard, you will find: a Saracen tower (Torre Saracens), black and white horses galloping on the shore, pawns strolling on the boardwalk, sometimes a bishop – and definitely nuns: there are two churches.
And, of course, countless people who see themselves as kings and queens, probably as a consequence of the fact that Scauri's roots stretch back to ancient times, to Roman antiquity, when Gaius Marius himself had sought refuge from Silla's hitmen in Minturnae.
Scauri is a gulf, a curve: six miles of sand and sea, with a tiny marina and various little beach-side restaurants scattered along it. The water is not just blue or green, but blue-green-brown, due to the winds and currents, and the heights of pines that mirror themselves in the waves at both ends of the gulf. The Caribbean, this is not.
Of course, the Italians have known about Scauri's charms for centuries – even now, it grows exponentially from winter (6,000 inhabitants) to summer (100,000 inhabitants, plus commuters from Napoli and her suburbs). It is a vacation spot and has been since the Roman Empire.
But what draws these visitors? The history, for one. You will find Roman ruins here, even pre-Roman walls – the cyclopic walls of the ancient port of Pirae, Villa di Lucio Mamurra (a villa with an ancient cistern in the Parco di Gianola Riviera di Ulisse), Castellum Acquae (once a water source) – as well as Roman bricks and marbles re-used in contemporary houses and apartments. There is also a well-preserved Roman pier and, of course, Roman bones six feet under.
And it's not only ancient history. Explore outdoors, and you'll find criss-crossing hiking trails all across the lovely Parco di Gianola e Monte di Scauri, or take a catamaran tour to the blue waters of Grotta Azzurra, a sea cave.
We have amazing food here, too – from Locanda Rusticone's pizza (735 Via Appia) to Cardillo's pastries (1120 Via Appia), and fresh seafood at Angeli & Marinai (14 Piazza Marco Emilio Scauro) – spaghetti alle vongole; a thick, rich guazzetto; salt cod in a light tempura.
You can spend lazy hours on the sand (Spiaggia di Scauri is well loved, but Lido Aurora has a beach club and playground), then stroll to an obliging ice-cream stall, or to Lo Scoglio (7 Via Porto Scauritano) for a cold, crisp beer with views of the bay and live music.
The Little I Knew is my first novel to be translated into English, and I'm very happy that it is, even though I can write and think only a little in English myself. It is a novel based on and bred in Scauri; a love letter to the comforting claustrophobia of small-town life.
During my youth, I learn that a tiny town is the perfect place to practice tolerance and mediation, because you see everybody all the time, every day. You live with these people – and the familiarity can be a relief, or they can annoy you to your wit's end, even if you love them. But you cannot hate them, because tomorrow you'll see them again.
This is the ultimate social network – a strongly interwoven place where lives overlap. Visit and you will see a place that is truly real – a window into a culture that you will not find in Italy's big cities, or even its towns.
It is a network which has died out in much of the world, but one which is alive and well in its small, ancient villages. Little, undiscovered places, like Scauri.
Essentials
Ryanair flies from London to Naples from £148 return; easyJet flies from London to Naples from £173 return.
Trains from Naples run to Minturno-Scauri, costing from £3 and taking approximately one hour.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Telegraph
4 hours ago
- Telegraph
Italy's greatest treasures are its undiscovered villages – and I should know
I was born in a little town by the sea, between Rome and Naples. This is the English sentence I uttered the most throughout my school years and later in my academic life when, as a young mathematician, I used to leave the Università di Napoli for summer schools and conferences abroad. The scholars I met never knew the name of my town, Scauri. Some had heard about nearby Gaeta (because of the prison, and the Nazi who was imprisoned there, and his escape in a suitcase), but no one knew Scauri. Scauri is a hamlet in the district of Minturno, a coastal town at the very edge of the province of Lazio. As I write these lines, there is no Wikipedia page about Scauri in English. Nor is there an English page about Minturnae, Minturno's ancient ruins. Both sit along the Via Appia, the main artery of Roman Italy – the Romans called it regina viarum, the queen of all roads. You may not have heard of them, but it is these tiny, barely noticed places which remain the heart and soul of Italy – and to visit them remains the finest way to get beneath my country's skin. Anyone who spends a morning in Scauri will be captured by the disjointed grace of this place – my place. As if on a chessboard, you will find: a Saracen tower (Torre Saracens), black and white horses galloping on the shore, pawns strolling on the boardwalk, sometimes a bishop – and definitely nuns: there are two churches. And, of course, countless people who see themselves as kings and queens, probably as a consequence of the fact that Scauri's roots stretch back to ancient times, to Roman antiquity, when Gaius Marius himself had sought refuge from Silla's hitmen in Minturnae. Scauri is a gulf, a curve: six miles of sand and sea, with a tiny marina and various little beach-side restaurants scattered along it. The water is not just blue or green, but blue-green-brown, due to the winds and currents, and the heights of pines that mirror themselves in the waves at both ends of the gulf. The Caribbean, this is not. Of course, the Italians have known about Scauri's charms for centuries – even now, it grows exponentially from winter (6,000 inhabitants) to summer (100,000 inhabitants, plus commuters from Napoli and her suburbs). It is a vacation spot and has been since the Roman Empire. But what draws these visitors? The history, for one. You will find Roman ruins here, even pre-Roman walls – the cyclopic walls of the ancient port of Pirae, Villa di Lucio Mamurra (a villa with an ancient cistern in the Parco di Gianola Riviera di Ulisse), Castellum Acquae (once a water source) – as well as Roman bricks and marbles re-used in contemporary houses and apartments. There is also a well-preserved Roman pier and, of course, Roman bones six feet under. And it's not only ancient history. Explore outdoors, and you'll find criss-crossing hiking trails all across the lovely Parco di Gianola e Monte di Scauri, or take a catamaran tour to the blue waters of Grotta Azzurra, a sea cave. We have amazing food here, too – from Locanda Rusticone's pizza (735 Via Appia) to Cardillo's pastries (1120 Via Appia), and fresh seafood at Angeli & Marinai (14 Piazza Marco Emilio Scauro) – spaghetti alle vongole; a thick, rich guazzetto; salt cod in a light tempura. You can spend lazy hours on the sand (Spiaggia di Scauri is well loved, but Lido Aurora has a beach club and playground), then stroll to an obliging ice-cream stall, or to Lo Scoglio (7 Via Porto Scauritano) for a cold, crisp beer with views of the bay and live music. The Little I Knew is my first novel to be translated into English, and I'm very happy that it is, even though I can write and think only a little in English myself. It is a novel based on and bred in Scauri; a love letter to the comforting claustrophobia of small-town life. During my youth, I learn that a tiny town is the perfect place to practice tolerance and mediation, because you see everybody all the time, every day. You live with these people – and the familiarity can be a relief, or they can annoy you to your wit's end, even if you love them. But you cannot hate them, because tomorrow you'll see them again. This is the ultimate social network – a strongly interwoven place where lives overlap. Visit and you will see a place that is truly real – a window into a culture that you will not find in Italy's big cities, or even its towns. It is a network which has died out in much of the world, but one which is alive and well in its small, ancient villages. Little, undiscovered places, like Scauri. Essentials Ryanair flies from London to Naples from £148 return; easyJet flies from London to Naples from £173 return. Trains from Naples run to Minturno-Scauri, costing from £3 and taking approximately one hour.


The Independent
6 hours ago
- The Independent
Swap Tuscany for this crowd-free alternative with a glittering coastline and rustic Italian food scene
This isn't a usual Wednesday morning. It's 10am and I'm aproned-up and standing next to a small marble-topped kitchen table attempting to strangle a priest. I perfect the technique surprisingly fast. It feels awkward at first, but after a few brisk flicks of the wrist, the deed is done. It was easier than I thought, and I take a moment to reflect on my achievement, letting the mid-morning Italian sunshine bathe my face in its warm glow while the soothing sound of jazz tinkles from a small radio in the next room. 'We call this pasta strozzapreti, ' says Patrizia Mauri, a local home cook and runner-up in the recent Tiramisu World Cup. We are in Rimini, Mauri's home town, in northern Italy. The Italian Adriatic coastal city is known for its party spirit, ancient history and for raising the director of the classic 1960 film La Dolce Vita, Federico Fellini. Mauri hosts culinary classes as part of an Italian slow food community called Cesarine, and was teaching me how to make this hand-rolled rope-like pasta whose name roughly translates as 'priest strangler'. I later learn that this pasta, which traces its origins to the 1600s, has a dark past befitting of its name. Something to do with a curse cast by women against gluttonous clergymen in central Italy, my host tells me. It was early April, and I was four days into a week-long, action-packed, food-centric road trip around Emilia-Romagna, and in complete denial that my jeans already felt too tight. This unsung region of northern Italy is often suggested as an alternative to Tuscany; more authentic and without the crowds. With so much packed into a small geographic area, it's also an absolute winner for a short, sharp immersion into Italian culture and a road trip over small distances. Together, Mauri and I prepared lunch fit for Fellini and one of his film crews: piada, a local flatbread filled with three different fillings, a heaped bowl of my freshly made strozzapreti pasta with stridoli sauce (a typical seasonal herb from the Romagna region), and individual portions of tiramisu – the best I've ever tasted. I devour it all in happy silence on Patrizia's sun-dappled terrace with a chilled glass of prosecco in hand. Water trickles in a big stone fountain opposite us, and Mauri's black Labrador snoozes next to me. Walking off my homemade lunch was easy at the Parco del Mare; Rimini's glitzy redeveloped waterfront complete with boardwalk, a stone's throw from the Art Nouveau Grand Hotel. Built in 1908, this historic hotel was Fellini's one-time second home and my opulent base for two days. Refreshed from a nap, I take a quick whirl around the modern Fellini Museum before wandering over to Borgo San Giuliano, a chic neighbourhood of narrow alleyways, craft shops and colourful houses, for dinner at popular Osteria de Borg. I stuff my face with yet more piada and pasta, and I discover the crowd-pleasing tagliatelle al ragu is incorrectly renamed around the world as spaghetti Bolognese. It wasn't surprising that my jeans were getting tighter. Arriving in Bologna days before – where I started and ended my trip – I hopped in a hire car and made a beeline for Parma, from where two of Italy's most world-famous culinary contributions hail: Parmigiano Reggiano, or Parmesan cheese, and prosciutto di Parma, otherwise known as Parma ham. I gorged on platefuls of both at local favourite restaurant Trattoria Corrieri, alongside a basket of piping hot 'pillow bread', a bowl of steaming cappelletti en brodo (meat-filled pasta in broth) and a chilled glass of sparkling red lambrusco, a much-loved wine from the region that's been through a rocky patch with English wine fans, but is tipping the favour scales once again. I spend the first two nights in the Emilian countryside northwest of Parma; amid fields dotted with yellow flowers, vineyards, olive trees, old shuttered farmhouses and spindly tall pine trees. The elegant Roncolo 1888 hotel awaits at the end of a long, winding gravel drive lined with more tall pine trees. Set in the organic winery Tenuta Venturini Baldini, it's a gastronomic paradise with an exclusive restaurant and lavish rooms inside a historic terracotta-coloured villa dating to 1670. It proves a useful base for exploring the charms of Modena, where the legendary opera singer, Pavarotti, was born in 1935, and where balsamic vinegar is made. I wander the delightful, cobbled Piazza Grande, marvel at the 10th-century cathedral drenched in symbolism and devour arancini stuffed with mozzarella at the Albinelli covered market. At renowned Acetaia Villa San Donnino I learn how Modena balsamic vinegar is made, aged for a minimum of 12 years in a batteria (five or more successively smaller ageing barrels), before watching Parmesan cheese-makers at work at Moscattini cheese factory, a wonderful spot for souvenirs. Food aside, Emilia-Romagna is home to an area known as Motor Valley, set along the Via Emilia, an ancient Roman road connecting Piacenza and Rimini, where motor industry legends like Maserati and Ducati were born and raised. Without a week to spend delving into this topic alone – there are nine museums here dedicated to motor sports – I opt to visit the Ferrari Museum in Maranello, home to the world's largest collection of the famous supercar. My mind was blown, but nothing prepared me for my first glance of the pink flamingos at the Po Delta in Commachio, and the dazzling collection of early Christian mosaic artworks found in Ravenna, 55 miles west of Rimini, a Unesco world heritage site and Italy's most dramatic examples of religious art. As if all this wasn't enough, I somehow managed to squeeze in a quick detour to the tiny microstate of San Marino, and the storybook village of Brisighella in the foothills of the Apennine mountains before my last stop, Bologna. Emilia-Romagna's bohemian capital is another destination for fans of Italian food. In the city's food market, I eat more ham, cheese and bread and wash it all down with a local red wine in Osteria del Sole, a novel 'bring your own food' bar in a 15th-century building in the historic centre. I vow to walk it off along the Portico Di San Luca, 3.5km of arched arcades that connect the centre of Bologna to the Sanctuary of the Madonna di San Luca on the nearby hill, but as I'm about to set off my jeans finally burst – a sure sign that Emilia Romagna has had its wicked way with me. That, or the curse is reversed, and I'm the glutton who suffers after strangling that priest. Ellie Seymour was travelling as a guest of Original Travel. How to do it Original Travel offers 8-day trips to Emilia-Romagna starting from £3,130pp based on two people. Price includes flights, transfer, car rental, guided tour of Modena, private boat tour, food tours in Bologna and Ravenna, and seven nights' hotel accommodation. For more information or to book, call visit How to get there British Airways flies from London Heathrow to Bologna (Emilia Romagna's capital city) from £40 each way, and to Rimini on the Adriatic coast, from £54 each way. easyJet flies from London Gatwick to Rimini, from £43 each way. Ryanair flies from London Stansted, Luton and Edinburgh to Bologna from £14.99, £16.99 and £24.99 one way, and London Stansted to Rimini from £14.99 one way.


The Sun
7 hours ago
- The Sun
Diletta Leotta shares stunning bikini snaps as she holidays with ex-Liverpool star husband Loris Karius
DILETTA LEOTTA stripped down to a bikini while on holiday with her husband and former Liverpool star Loris Karius. Diletta, 33, works as a football presenter for DAZN in her native Italy. 9 9 9 9 While Karius, 31, is currently between the sticks for German club Schalke. The couple jetted off to Mallorca for a much-needed break following the end of the season. Diletta soaked up the Spanish sun in an array of incredible outfits. She was pictured hopping out the sea in figure-hugging black swimwear. And after drying off, she looked incredible in a pink bikini as she posed with a friend joining them abroad. Diletta also dazzled while stood next to a massive paella on the beach and when at a restaurant in a stylish black dress. Her stunning looks left her nine million Instagram followers in awe, with one saying: "The most beautiful, there is no better." Another added: "Gorgeous girl." A third commented: "You are radiant." Italian beauty Diletta tied the knot with Karius last summer in a luxurious ceremony after two years of dating. They have a daughter Aria, 2, who was seen in the post. Karius was on daddy duties, holding her in a swimming pool that overlooked the picturesque ocean. The German goalkeeper played 49 times for Liverpool between 2016 and 2018. Dilleta returned from her holiday in time to attend yesterday's French Open men's final, stunning in a bold white dress. 9 9 9