Yesterday, 15th of August, was Ferragosto, il culmine delle vacanze estive (the peak of the summer holidays). Ferragosto comes from the Latin feriae Augusti (August vacations), and is said to date back to the Roman times. When I was a child, every city or town which was not a holiday resort closed down completely for ‘Ferragosto’. I remember seeing images on the telegiornale (TV news) of old people wandering around town trying to find a shop where they could buy a loaf of bread or a drop of milk, and shots of dejected looking tourists standing outside museums and restaurants which all displayed the disheartening sign ‘chiuso per ferie’ (closed for the holidays). Since then, the Italian government and local authorities have worked hard to make sure that at least basic facilities such as pharmacies and bakeries are available for those who cannot leave the cities, and today things have certainly improved a lot.

However ‘Ferragosto’ is still an important day for most Italians, and to really get a flavor of the spirit of this festa the best place to be is not Firenze, Roma or Milano, but the beach and the mountain resorts. During the day people traditionally go to the beach, or to a restaurant situated in a picturesque place such as a mountain pass or by a lake. Many people choose to go back to the villages where their families originally come from to spend the day with old friends and relatives. They usually set up long tables under shady pergolas or trees, adorned with innumerable flagons of wine, massive plates of pasta, and come dolce (as a dessert) refreshing slices of watermelon.

In the evening all the little local towns will put on events such as beauty contests, sagre (small food or wine festivals), and spettacoli pirotecnici (firework displays). Il miglior spettacolo pirotecnico che abbia mai visto (the best firework display that I’ve ever seen) was staged many years ago in Albisola on the Ligurian coast. By chance that evening facevamo la passeggiata a mare (we were strolling along the promenade), when we noticed that lots of people seemed to be staring out towards the dark horizon beyond the the sea. Naturally we also stopped and gawped, not knowing what to expect, when suddenly a burst of light and color rose out of the water. I fuochi d’artificio (the fireworks), for that is what they were, were being launched from rafts moored several hundred meters from the shore. It was truly wonderful to see them reflected in the glassy water, with a backdrop of dark sea and night sky. The only sounds other than the cracks and bangs of explosions was the gasps, ooh’s, aah’s, and ‘che bello’ of the spectators.

Buona festa a tutti!