Roots in Raccuja

So for some reason I felt the need to make a pilgrimage back to the place where my family originated. I wasn't born there, and neither was my father, but his grandparents were both born in a tiny mountain village named Raccuja. They lived on or near a hazelnut and fig farm when they had my grandfather and his sister (Guiseppe and Nancy Marino). My great-grandparents relocated to New Jersey before having more children, and my family has lived in the U.S. ever since. I have always wanted to "see the family farm" since I heard stories about it from my grandfather. Of course, I am only tracing a small part of the family tree, but it's a marvel that anyone stills knows where this house is. I won't tell you my entire family tree. There are people in my family who know it, back many generations. We all have color photocopies of it (awesome, helps at family gatherings, try it!). I find it interesting, but I suspect that no one else will. But I will tell you that I am at least a solid 1/4 Sicilian, and have some northern Italian and Irish (a Flynn married in on my mother's side) as well. If you didn't notice that I have southern Italian skin and hair color, you could probably tell I'm Italian anyway since I am stubborn, opinionated, and argumentative. Now you know where I get it.

(Above is a view of Raccuja on the right, and the valley below.)

(A picture of me and Scott at the overlook. Not much of a railing for the side of a road on a cliff!)

I made Scott drive us 2.5 hours away from Taormina into the mountains at the base of Mt. Etna. The drive was mostly along the coast, and it was very scenic. Scott would say that it was nerve-wracking, since the last half of the drive was on unmarked, narrow, very steep roads (I wouldn't say that. I thought is was a nice drive. I think everyone else in the car was more nervous than I was! - Scott). My grandfather and uncle have been in contact with some people in Raccuja, including the mayor and a retired policeman. I was instructed to contact the family of the policeman, since his wife spoke English. At first we got very lost trying to find their house, so I had to ask a policeman that we passed. He tried to tell me how to get there, but when he saw that I wasn't following his complicated directions, he patted my hand and told me I was a dear for trying but that we should just wait and he would have the Rottino's come get us. Their names are Guiseppe and Antonnette, and they were very nice. We found out that Mrs. Rottino's mother knew my great-grandmother. They even drove us to my great-grandmother's house. This happened to be near a bakery, and so it was still standing. Jen couldn't resist buying several loaves, which we ate on the way home.


(Above from left to right is Scott, me, my Dad, Mrs. Rottino, and Jen).

(Above is me and dad at the Rottino's. You can see that Raccuja is set just above a huge valley.)

(Above: The little ramshackle roof set in front of the next town down the mountain is one of the houses that had been owned by my family. Next to where we are standing to take the picture is the bakery and my great-grandmother's house. Most of the trees around it are hazelnuts.)

(Above left to right: My Dad, Mrs. Rottino, the woman who runs the bakery hugging everyone, and Mr. Rottino.)

Unfortunately, we hadn't planned to stay long. The Rottino's were very disappointed when we didn't stay for dinner, but we had to be back in time to head to Sorrento. Overall, I had a nice time seeing the village. It's very a picturesque area, and it's fun to see where your family is from.

(Above is the view from the Rottino's terrace.)
The next morning we left for Sorrento. We rented a car and drove from Naples, where we arrived by plane from Sicily. I don't recommend that you do this unless you're going somewhere WAY out on the end of the Amalfi coast where the trains don't go. The traffic is horrendous, and the roads are VERY narrow. If that isn't bad enough, people keep passing and driving in the middle of the road when it issn't wide enough for one car to begin with.

(Above is the road to Sorrento. There are signs saying to yield to passing traffic, but I ask you, where are we supposed to yield to - the "shoulder"?)

(Above is one of many scenic areas along the coast. )

We rented a car because we thought we'd do some of the scenic coastal drives that this area is famous for, but after the harrowing experience of getting to the hotel, we had had it with the car. We contemplated renting a scooter, but we decided against it since we'd probably drive off the mountain in a panic when someone tried to pass us. So we walked everywhere instead.
I have to say though, that reaching the hotel wasn't much of a relief. The staff is wonderful and the food is good, but our view includes a dilapidated old building and I found a ROACH in the bathroom!! Gross, too bad we pre-paid. Trip advisor failed to mention these important points, so think of this hotel the next time you try to plan a vacation. Trip advisor doesn't know everything (sadly). - Anna