Traveling into the Wild: “La Tana dei Ghiri”
There are places in the world that even Google cannot reach. I’m not talking about Central Africa or remote islands in the Pacific: I’m talking about Basilicata area, Italy, Europe.
When I took a gravel road that leads to “La Tana dei Ghiri” (it means “Den of the Dormice”) and I saw that old farmhouse from above, so big and small at the same time, nestled in the unpopulated Lucanian hills, like a pink vision in the middle of all that green, it reminded me Alaska. I don’t know why, but it made me think of one of those beautiful houses built in Alaska at the beginning of 1800 by Russian fur merchants. The climate is very different, of course: Lucania is situated in the extreme south of Italy, nearby the only little bit of access to the beautiful sea of Basilicata, and it’s pretty warm in summer. But “La Tana dei Ghiri” is next to a very small village named Brefaro, located at an altitude of 500 meters above sea level, with forests and fields all around, and it’s never too warm out there.
There are just a few sites where you can immediately perceive magic and power emerging by the soil, from plants and rocks: a particular and rare sense of belonging to Earth, something that may be the ancestors of our ancestors could feel when the human species had not yet begun destroying and slaughtering the Planet: “La Tana dei Ghiri” is one of those places, and for that reason alone it’s worth to be there.
It’s not easy to define “La Tana dei Ghiri”: it’s something in between a Bed & Breakfast and a Community where you must pay a very low price; all the guests have dinner together, around a single large table and everyone — some more, some less — takes part in preparing food. The owner of “The Tana”, Francesco Salvia, is a unique person: has preserved this awesome piece of Planet avoiding to turn it in a resort, a spa for rich people, a big hotel with a swimming-pool or worse. And, he has kept up his childish and teenage part, belonging to that kind of people that I call “ragged company”, kind of people to which I belong too. “La Tana dei Ghiri” is a place where it’s easy having fun and socializing: there’s no wi-fi and there’s no signal, and this is the reason why people cannot use their mobile, tablet, notebook, and all the other visible and invisible screens we are used to getting between us and the others.
But, if you are afraid of lizards and crickets, if your idea of nature is very well cared for by a gardener, if you need comfort first and can’t live without air-conditioned, this is not the right place for you. As for me, my only regret is to have spent too much time at sea (awesome and clean sea, five minutes far by car from Brefaro) and not enough time hanging out in the woods, among brambles, trees, and cliffs.
My three favorite moments in a week:
1 — In Francesco Salvia’s land, there’s a kind of treehouse where you can go just climbing up the tree. I did it and I could stay up there, with the hills in front of me and the trees all around, feeling peace and energy, in a way I hadn’t felt in many, many years. I thought it was probably one of those special spots Castaneda was talking about in “The teachings of Don Juan”:
“I asked him if each of the two spots had a special name. He said that the good one was called the sitio and the bad one the enemy; he said these two places were the key to a man’s wellbeing, especially for a man who was pursuing knowledge. The sheer act of sitting on one’s spot created superior strength; on the other hand, the enemy weakened a man…”
I’m sure that the treehouse was a sitio, a friend spot, and I’ve been sleeping there for a while. When I woke up I felt so much better, as I had replenished my energy.
2 — Fireflies. Many fireflies around the table and in the vegetable garden, every night. The last time I had seen fireflies I was a child, and I thought they were completely extinct in Italy and most of the world. Fireflies are like an omen of light and hope in an ever darker world.
3 — The day I went down a nearly invisible path, entering the dense forest, full of rocks and brambles, where the trees were much closer: I met many kinds of butterflies, spiders, bumblebees and I saw the fur of a fox behind plants. After walking long downhill I suddenly realized that one of the pretty wild Francesco’s cats, Suriā, was following me since home, very silent, like a Guardian, a protector. I had been feeding and petting her for days, and I had her love. Suriā must’ve thought:
“Let’s make sure this crazy human doesn’t run off a cliff!”
“La Tana dei Ghiri” makes me think also to Poetry, because Francesco’s cousin, Beppe Salvia, was a great Italian Poet, born in Lucania, who died very, very young, suicided, in 1985. I’ll try to translate a few verses of one of his poems where he talks about life and land:
“…e colli erbosi grassi/ rioni, città dispiegate come/ belle bandiere, e nude prigioni/ Questa è la nostra vita. Questi nostri/ volti vagabondi come musi/ di cani ci somigliano. Il vento/ il sole le corolle rosse e blu/ i sogni mai sognati i nostri sogni/ Questa è la nostra vita e nulla più.”
“… and lawns and hills — fat districts, cities laid out like — beautiful flags, and bare jails — this is our life. Our vagabond faces — like muzzles of dogs. The wind — the sun, blue and red flowers core — the dreams we never dreamed, our dreams — This is our life and nothing more.”
Francesco Salvia’s FB account: Francesco Salvia (La Tana dei Ghiri)
