O fons Bandusiae, splendidior vitro,
dulci digne mero, non sine floribus
O spring of Bandusia, clearer than crystal,
worthy of sweet pure wine, not without flowers
The Sabina, a natural and historical jewel
For a long time little known to Italian and foreign tourists, who were drawn to the more renowned
areas of Umbria and Tuscany, for some decades now the Sabina has been undergoing a
‘rediscovery’ (or a discovery tout court), entirely deserved, by curious travellers
passionate about the good life.
Located in the Lazio province of Rieti, set between the Tiber and the Apennine mountains,
the Sabina is a land rich in history, culture and natural beauty, serenely harmonised
in a mix that, for balance and simplicity, has few rivals in the whole Peninsula.
Rieti, Greccio, Farfa, Roccantica, Casperia, Poggio Catino, Poggio Mirteto: these are only some
of the Sabine villages that have nothing to envy those better known and ‘iconic’ ones of
central Italy. Quite the contrary.
In its almost timeless towns – set among the foothills, evergreen
thanks to olive trees, mixed woodland, Mediterranean scrub, beech forests, meadows and pastures –
tranquillity truly reigns. A slowness of living that seems to be the finest
personification of that otium so praised by the ancient Romans, who when it came to knowing how to
live were second to none.
Not idleness as we moderns understand it, torn and almost tormented by the unsustainable rhythms
of our everyday lives, with their high rate of neurosis. But otium as the ability to take back
our own selves: first of all thanks to direct contact with the natural environment, which must be
uncontaminated or nearly so, in any case not ‘invaded’ by human presence and activity.
And the Sabina is just so: human presence is noticeable, but only enough to avoid feeling
too isolated, too disconnected, too off grid as people say today. It is not a hermit’s life
that the Sabina asks of those who wish to move there for a while, or even for
the rest of their lives.
It is certainly a secluded life, but for that very reason more in touch with everything. With
the environment and nature first of all, but in the end also with other human beings, our
fellows, who become truly ‘neighbours’, and no longer unknown shadows on the other side
of the landing. And that is no small thing, you will agree.
Casperia, a silent gem
Try, for example, venturing into the alleys of Casperia.
It is a village suspended between the temporal boundaries of a very ancient history – Virgil
in the Aeneid already mentioned a Montem Severum Casperiam – and of a present, up-to-date identity, which has earned it
the coveted title of Bandiera Arancione of the TCI.
Care for the historic centre; tourist hospitality; environmental sustainability. These are
essential qualities, which in Casperia you find put into practice without ostentation or proclamations, but in
substance.
Its historic centre is a classic ‘onion bulb’. A concentric, ‘spiralling’ layout
of streets and lanes; a climb now gentle, now steeper, which culminates almost
theatrically in the splendid square dedicated to St John the Baptist (go into the church
of the same name and admire the remains of Gothic frescoes, the altarpiece of 1524 by Giacomo Santoro
and the monumental nativity scene created by Giannicola Mariani).
The real protagonist of the village’s urban architecture, in fact, was historically its
walls, erected in 1282 and described as ‘a true masterpiece of military architecture and of consummate
defensive art of the 13th century’. They made the village practically inaccessible to raids, and
anyone who dared to open a gap large enough for a person to pass
through faced the death penalty.
Of an even older circuit of walls, dating back to the 11th century, the arch in Via
Garibaldi remains today, called the ‘Arco Vecchio’ or ‘Arco di Mezzo’. Knowing it is so old as you
pass beneath it can give the more sensitive a certain shiver.
Arriving at Piazza Umberto I (otherwise known as ‘Piazza Macello’) you will have at your feet one of the
clearest and most complete panoramas of the Tiber valley you could ever find.
Monte Soratte dominates it – and here too, how not to quote Horace:
Vides ut alta stet nive candidum
Soracte nec iam sustineant onus
silvae laborantes geluque
flumina constiterint acuto.
You see how Soracte stands white
with deep snow, how the labouring woods can no longer
bear their burden, and how the streams have stopped
from the piercing frost.
At that point, if you wish to follow to the letter the advice of golden Horace, namely:
Dissolve frigus ligna super foco
largè repònens atque benìgnius
deprome quadrimum Sabìna
o Thaliarche, merum diota
Drive away the cold by piling logs generously on the hearth, and pour more freely,
o Thaliarchus, pure wine
all you have to do is slip into one of the many inns or restaurants the village
offers, where you can warm yourself with a glass (or even two, go on) of generous
Sabine red wine, strictly made from Sangiovese and Montepulciano grapes.
We recommend (though not exclusively, it is simply from experience) the Osteria
Vigna, very well known. The location, as people say today, is almost indescribable for its
beauty, overlooking the whole panorama.
You will surely begin with a tasting of oils from local cultivars; then you can try the
cured meats and cheeses of the area, truly zero-mile. You will continue with stringozzi with leeks,
pecorino and almonds, or with tomato and basil; the sausages prepared by the
local butcher Armando; a parmigiana, roast potatoes or friggitelli peppers; to finish with
a highly recommended apple cake.
At the end of all this, we bet you too will say, with Horace:
Quid sit futurum cras, fuge quaerere
et, quem Fors dierum cumque dabit
lucro adpone
What will happen tomorrow, do not ask, and whatever day Fortune grants,
put it down on the side of profit
And if a day in Casperia is certainly a gain, spending one’s life there is perhaps an even greater one. Why not?
