Ischia.it english

The magic Tribe of Maronti

Go down to the Maronti is like descend from the top of the Grand Canyon on the banks of Colorado, in the Navajo Reservation: «Augh, here everything exists and everything you can imagine…». Just like here, on the beach that goes from ‘Punta della Signora’ to the fumaroles. Here, every grain of sand is a true story, a myth and a dream together, for thousands years, and those who dare to doubt it is only a dirty infidel to garrotte instantly.
I always attend it; a must is to see my incessant wanderings, from Papua to the Pantanal, from Tibet to Antarctica.

Why here? Simple: the eternal magic that surrounds it, the one that allows me to see and touch the rest of the world. Alternatively, imagine it; dream it ... maybe not only here, while resting in the sun or the moon, I can also delight the song of the Sirens who dance on the embers to San Angelo. Of course, about the nature, but especially the tribes around me: a people without age, pragmatic and visionary, a little warrior always in arms and a little sweet lemon leaves, now heroes of Chaplin now of Sam Peckinpah.

I go in no particular order, trying not to confuse between 1648 men called Giovanni Di Costanzo, for example, legendary lifeguard of Smeraldo arrived here from Samoa by a canoe with another 99 men at the oars. Giovanni Pesce, of the noble family that valorized the Maronti, spat from the dolphin that saved Pinocchio and raised by two fried anchovies. If the moon is not cheating on him, it can be extraordinary for organization and competence wine and food (in contrast, abysmal ignorance in football and cinema). It is now best known for being the father of Angelo, the young chef who has elevated to the international sphere the Ida restaurant, for over half a century temple dedicated to the kitchen of Ischia, enriched with touches of the traditional grandmother’s kitchen. Industry seaside deals uncle Aldo, who in the last century tamed dragons guarding the nearby salt mines. Sister Pina, elegant jellyfish dance that was as a nanny Apache squaw, has run tried to rest and returned to her exquisite pans opening “Le Petrelle” with sister Gabriella.
Donna Lucia Iacono, former Master of the Royal Palace to the Court of Louis XIV, is now at the top of the Parco Smeraldo hotel, wrist of steel and gentle soul. Her husband Antonio Vitale boasts an ancestor who freed the slaves from the vines ahead of Abraham Lincoln.
In addition, here Ciro Cenatiempo, first multicultural reference and Great Mystery of the Island. World-renowned scholars still have not determined whether the son of an Etruscan king or the commander of the fleet of the Phoenicians. In modern is our Jonathan Swift, prince of fantasy still resident in a volcano in constant eruption; as suspect even the artist with golden hands and Ancilla Maxima of the Letizia Moizzi Barony, sister of Nausicaa then generous chieftain of Muschiones. Her husband, Giovanni Cerruti, of multiform talent, accompanied the New Zealander Edmund Hillary in the first ascent of Everest, strong experience accumulated between Australians Aborigines and the Papua recruiters. Now, rather than directing La Stampa, he retired with his mountain lions and kid around with the computer and the piano.
Moreover, here, with two other goalkeepers to Zamora, Massimo and Gaetano, there is Domenico, spiritual leader of the Emerald, organizer of country walks, already inspiring Eclogues of Virgil. Bishop of courtesy, maitre Tonino, that forced Hercules to retire from eighth fatigue. In addition, even Giovanni, barman, just resurrected from Berlin massacre. Others will follow in the next report scheduled in 2096.
While greeting the Endeavour sails on the horizon of my friend Cook and upstream slip-drawn sleighs to Shackleton blue rabbits. See you soon guys. Now the giant of Aladdin takes me back in bird’s eye view somewhere.
Maybe to hell. Meanwhile, come people, this is finally the millennial stage so dear also to magician Meliès, brilliant inventor of the film.
Come libenter, the Tribe of Maronti awaits you. Augh!