Flowers in the Road: Villa Romana del Casale
By: Robert M. Gaglio and Ottavia Fasce
Last summer, I planned a surprise trip for my friend and associate, Ottavia, while we were visiting our friends and my family in Montelepre. Villa Romana del Casale is one of my favorite archaeological sites in Sicily, and I could hardly wait to see the look on Ottavia’s face when she beheld the mosaics of this magnificent example of Roman wealth in the 4th century A.D. Not familiar with this area of Sicily, I leaned on the car’s GPS directions which promised to take us on a “short cut” through the backroads. At first, everything was going smoothly. We drove past fields on nicely paved roads while taking in the vistas. Gradually the lanes began to narrow and wind, eventually going into a single lane. As I continued to drive down into a valley, the pavement disappeared into the dirt and my comment to Ottavia was, “You know you are in trouble when you start to see flowers growing in the middle of the road.” It became clear this route hadn’t been used in quite some time. Like the grand Villa Romana del Casale was covered by landslides hundreds of years ago, this road was being reclaimed by the earth also.
My knuckles over the steering wheel began to turn white, as the fear of getting stranded in the middle of a valley with no cell phone service took over my thoughts. Ottavia kept her cool and even took a bit of video and applauded my driving skills. We were essentially traversing in the automobile what only should have been tried with a 4-wheel-drive truck. We bumpily headed downhill and suddenly the shrubbery on either side of us closed in and the “path” was gone. Trusting my instincts, I stopped the car and got out to assess the situation. After a few deep breaths I could see a wide gully of mud a mere three feet beyond the tall grasses in front of us. On the other side of a ravine was what used to be the continuation of the road. Everything in-between us and there had been completely washed out.
I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if we’d gotten stuck. Ottavia laughed and said it was a memory-making experience. There was no option but to travel back up the hill in reverse to find the pavement again and turn around. An exercise I have had to do many times in the past while wandering throughout Italy. The time on the clock gave me a glimmer of hope we could still reach the surprise destination. Once we were on safer pavement, I decided to use my cell phone GPS, which had just enough signal to work. When we got to the functional road, we turned in the opposite direction of what we’d taken earlier. Ottavia rolled down the window and a soft, cool breeze came in as we inhaled its fragrance. I relaxed and marveled at the beauty of the countryside. The road took some turns and began to climb, apparently taking us over a mountain.
Would we ever get there? The road became crumbly, and I stopped again. The car had approached a point where there was a hole in the pavement, it appeared to have fallen into the valley. We could see a steep cliffside that dropped off into the valley below. We were forced to retreat again, having averted danger once more. Now what?
The road was too narrow to maneuver 180 degrees, so again I backed up, this time only a little way until I could turn around. When we came to a fork in the road, I took the one direction we hadn’t tried. Before too long, we thankfully encountered farmers. I thought to myself, they must know the area - at least I hoped they did. Ottavia explained our predicament and it turned out the farmers lived far away, but they advised us how to find the “long route” which was, in fact, the only viable way to go. “You are lucky! The direction you came from is treacherous!” We laughed nervously. The older of the two nodded and pointed, indicating for us to go to the T in the road. Then with more hand gestures, directed us to make a left, go through a town, and at the next intersection go right. In Italian he said, “Follow that highway, and you'll get there.” Thankfully, at least Ottavia could understand him. We thanked him and set off, our hearts pounding with hope instead of fear. As I drove, Ottavia confirmed we were doing exactly as instructed. Sure enough, in what seemed like no time we arrived in the town of Piazza Armerina. My surprise strategy failed, and I simply explained to Ottavia about the villa, and it would have to wait for tomorrow. Sometimes modern GPS does NOT know best!
It was getting late, plus I was exhausted and hungry. We’d have to find a place to stay and continue the next day. “No problem,” responded my co-pilot, Ottavia, and like magic, a sign for Villa Trigona appeared. We entered the long driveway which was nothing compared to “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” we’d been on earlier. The inn was beautiful and welcoming. Sometimes in Italy I’ve found that even when things don’t seem to be going my way, I make an amazing discovery like the Villa Trigona. The carefully recovered and restored villa is an ancient and elegant summer residence of the noble Trigona family, who continue to own it.
Gardens and potted plants framed the courtyard and the stucco building. There was a large swimming pool tucked off to one side. Check-in was prompt and a four-course dinner would be served later for all the guests who chose to dine in, which was everyone. We changed into swimwear and jumped into the pool. A pro tip is to always travel with a bathing suit packed! It was relaxing to swim, especially with a glass of white wine to cool us down. My muscles welcomed the movement to unwind. Afterwards, we stretched out directly on the paving tiles surrounding the pool. They had been warmed all day by the sun and gave off soothing heat as we chatted about our day! When it started to get chilly, we dressed for dinner thankful not to have to leave the property. A delicious Sicilian Syrah (red wine) called Miaterra was paired with artistically presented dishes including local meats, roasted vegetables, pastry-wrapped savories, and a bit of dessert followed by amaro, which is an alcoholic, after-dinner digestive.
After a great night’s sleep, Ottavia and I took in the morning light shining through the neighboring trees as we sat outside under the arbor. All the guests enjoyed homemade jams and breakfast breads of every variety while drinking big cups of cappuccini (the plural form of cappuccino). Fun fact: In Italy people only order cappuccino before 10 a.m.
Being so impressed with our experience at the villa, I made arrangements with the owner to bring my future Sicily tour guests here for a specially prepared lunch on the way to visit the majestic archeological site. I was satisfied in every way as we headed out.
In a few minutes, we reached the site of our destination. I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within me to share this amazing artifact with Ottavia. Golden rays were peeking from behind a rare cloud. The grandeur of the Villa Romana, like the sun, was not at once visible as we approached. Instead, delicate red poppies greeted us. “Flowers again,” I noted, but this time they sprung up from the earth next to the path rather than in it.
The villa was originally built in the 4th century AD and was once home to a well-off Roman family. The site was enormous, on multiple levels, and encompassed many rooms. Each was more impressive than the preceding. What really takes the breath away are the mosaic floors. They are intricate and detailed with colorful designs and images that tell stories of ancient mythology and history. This palatial-sized, Roman villa was covered in a landslide 800 years after being built and later forgotten. Tiles were discovered in the 19th century and excavation soon began, though much wasn’t uncovered until this century, giving visitors a view of what it was like back then.
The first things visible are the bathhouse and sauna areas which had advanced clay plumbing and strategically placed fire areas for heating and transporting water. This area is always impressive; however, Ottavia had no idea it would immediately be eclipsed by all that came next. She incredulously walked on intricate tile work representing a variety of animals on the way to the entrance.
Stepping through the remains of the villa entry, she climbed onto the risers where the elaborate mosaic tile scenes stopped her in her tracks. She kept gasping, starting but not finishing her sentences as she gazed at one area then another. I was happy to witness her response. I think sharing these experiences is what I love most about creating travel adventures or tours in Italy for my guests.
The mosaics were everywhere, covering the floors of almost every room. They were kept intact thanks to being buried - an unexpected preservation. The mosaics were so precise, it was hard to believe they had been made by hand. Some floors detailed different aspects of the lives the wealthy owners must have had. There were children wrangling geese and adults voyaging by sea. Others depicted mythological stories.
“Perhaps most fascinating,” Ottavia mentioned, “is getting a glimpse into the experiences of women and children 1700 years ago. Rather than being depicted as vulnerable, they were in scenes showing off strength, joy, and power. There was freedom in how they dressed, and they were shown actively participating in sports.” The “so called” bikini girls’ room may have been a room converted into a gym. The athletic girls mosaic was laid down right over an existing mosaic floor, giving an indication of just how wealthy this owner was.
Other visitors whispered to one another in reverence. Raised paths took us around the atrium or open courtyard in what would have been the center of the home. We read on placards that the family and their friends had gathered to socialize and relax there. In front of one particularly beautiful mosaic, Ottavia turned to me and whispered, "Can you imagine what it must have been like to live in this home?” I shook my head, unable to comprehend walking on these floors every day. I could, however, imagine returning, bringing guests, and other family and friends to show them the wonders of Sicily and the incredible history here that was waiting to be discovered.
After spending the day at the Villa Romana del Casale, we had a wonderfully uneventful return to Montelepre. This time we breezed along the north coast and past the capital city of Palermo. I was exhilarated, but once in Montelepre, we both were happy to be back “home.” Ottavia and I each enjoyed an Aperol spritz while looking down toward the Mediterranean Sea. This is a common, happy-hour drink made with one-part bright, orange-colored bitters, one part prosecco (Italian sparkling wine) and one part soda water. I couldn’t help but feel grateful for this one-of-a-kind adventure we’d been on. Though harrowing in some ways, we both had the energy and curiosity to keep going and happily take it all in. For me personally, I got to experience the Villa Romana del Casale as if for the first time and everything that led up to it.
