Let’s start with an exclusive story: “Italian City Wants More Tourists, Cruise Passengers.” It’s true that many people in Italy have had enough of the country’s 22 million annual visitors, and its most celebrated city has banned cruise ships and charges tourists a daily tax, but in deepest Calabria, as in several other areas, overtourism is not a problem – quite the opposite.
The main square in Santa Severina, a few kilometres from the Ionian coast, is dotted with bars and cafes beneath the walls of a Norman fortress and the dome of a Byzantine church. There is a small formal garden leading to a terrace with a magnificent view – we are more than 300 metres (980 feet) up – over the Sila Mountains.
In Tuscany or Puglia, the square would be packed with people. Here, in the southernmost region of the mainland, it is deathly quiet on a Thursday afternoon in early summer. Cruise ships sometimes dock at Crotone, 18 miles away, and a few brave passengers, mostly Americans, make the trek here for lunch at Le Puzelle restaurant just outside the village. Chef Salvatore Vona’s cooking is very Calabrian: uncomplicated, cheap and delicious (the signature pasta dish is farfalle with yellow peppers and the beloved red onions from Tropea, on the other Calabrian coast). According to the latest official figures from the tourist board (for 2022), the number of British arrivals in Crotone was 57. One of those arrivals stayed.
I share the view on this sunny day with Niall Allsopp, born in Northern Ireland, a loyal fan of the Madchester scene of the 90s and now living in Santa Severina. He is also the author of Calabria: Travels in the Toe of Italy.
Here is one view he does not share – the stereotypical perception of Calabria. What is it? He sighs: “The pits, the asshole of Italy. Uncivilized and unattractive, home to villains, kidnappers and bandits.”
Anatomically, that’s a long way off: Calabria is the toe of Italy. But let’s see how accurate the rest is, starting with the bandits. The unification of Italy in 1861 did not unite the country economically. People in the north did well; the heavily colonized (Brutti-Bourbon-Greek-Norman-Spanish-Lombard) Calabrian peninsula did not.
Tropea is a classic southern Italian town with formal architecture, hot piazzas and shady side streets. It is busy and cheerful, but not flashy. This is no Sorrento or Portofino.
“The Kingdom of the Two Sicilies – everything south of Naples – was the economic centre of what became Italy,” says Allsopp. “The wealth of the south was transferred to the north after 1860. The south resented this. Hence the robbery and banditry. It is no coincidence that the Mafia emerged at the same time.”
Yes, Calabria was and is the home base of the ‘Ndrangheta gang.
Santa Severina is not. There is a sign that says: “Qui la ‘ndrageta no entra. me toomunicipality of calabresi destroyed the mafiai don’t know your way.” You get the idea. They’re not welcome in this town. You can tell the towns where they are, says Allsopp. They’re the boring, mean towns that no one wants to visit.
Tropea, Calabria’s undisputed success story, is not included on this list. It lies a few hours’ drive west on the Tyrrhenian Sea, looking out towards Sicily and the Aeolian Islands.
The route to Tropea from the north looks like a straight coastal road on the map, but the dizzying cliffs and inaccessible bays force you to do a lot of up and down and take hairpin bends.
Eventually you reach the old town centre, only to find yourself hundreds of metres above the beaches, which you reach via a calf-straining footpath. But from above you get a great photo. You look down on pale sand meeting clear emerald water. It’s hard to imagine a better city beach.
Tropea is a classic southern Italian town with formal architecture, hot piazzas and shady side streets. It is busy and cheerful, but not flashy. This is no Sorrento or Portofino.
For those wanting sun and sand, hotels 15 minutes from town cost a fraction of the price of similar places in Amalfi: the Baia del Sol (doubles from €124 B&B), for example, is great for families, while the luxurious Capovaticano Spa Thalassotherapy is more geared towards couples (from €260). I heard a lot of German spoken, some French and Danish – but no English.
Capo Vaticano offers sunsets that deserve the word epic: the volcanic Stromboli, shrouded in smoke and clouds, lies before us; the perfect peak of Etna lies to the south
Further up the coast, Capo Vaticano offers sunsets that are worthy of the word epic: the volcanic island of Stromboli, shrouded in smoke and clouds, lies directly ahead, and far to the south lies the perfect peak of Sicily’s Etna. With its balmy skies, lush undergrowth and somewhat sketchy infrastructure, the coast reminds me of the less developed Caribbean islands.
The city of Reggio Calabria is an interesting, if arduous, 90-minute drive south. For now, visitors to the National Archaeological Museum of Reggio Calabria must make do with viewing the famous Riace bronzes, made around 450 BC, through a glass panel. Inside, archaeologists have their laptops and cameras at the ready as they attempt to solve various mysteries surrounding the figures’ origins.
However, the museum is definitely worth a visit, as is the restored promenade, named after Italo Falcomatà, the mayor whose 1990s renovation projects known as the Reggio Fountain created the city’s new, chic centre, defying the crowds.
Related: ‘We’re not anti-tourism’: Picturesque Italian villages struggle to cope with flood of Insta-visitors
It’s a two-hour drive along the imperfect A3 motorway from Tropea to the mountainous Pollino National Park and the agriturismo Locanda del Parco. Right from the start, you can tell this is no ordinary farm stay. Just past the chicken coop is a dusty London taxi. The owner, Gaetano, got a cab while in England for a conference and heard from the driver that the vehicle was for sale. He bought it and drove it all the way home. The boot is now a flower bed.
The Locanda is a sweet, relaxed and slightly madhouse. There are crooked wooden signs, old tools and a big smile from Adriana, the co-owner, who immediately takes us to pick some courgettes for lunch.
The guest rooms, like the house itself, are a decidedly unmodernised jumble of old photographs, odd furniture and family mementos. The exception is a spacious suite with sitting room and pool terrace: this costs from €160 per night. Rooms in the farmhouse or in a cottage amid olive groves and vegetable gardens start at €106.
All the food they serve comes from the estate. Everything you make comes from the estate too, because the owners also offer cooking classes, which is a great reason to come. The classes are held in a small room off the main kitchen with a large table, huge bunches of dried peppers hanging from the ceiling and a flipchart announcing what we’re going to make for lunch.
First of all there is typical polentawith peppers and vegetables. Then there are the flowers of the courgettes that we picked, fried and filled with ricotta (Calabrians love their ricotta). Finally, we make pipethe sun-dried tomato paste that Calabrese put on everything – including the pasta we make with spicy ‘ndujaThis spreadable salami is the signature flavour of Calabria, a little exotic and very distinctive – a bit like the region itself.
Nearby Morano Calabro is another hilltop town that will charm the Chianti class, with a castle. The Normans arrived in Calabria six decades before the Battle of Hastings. (If I had the choice between a posting in, say, 11th-century North Wales or Calabria, I think I’d choose the latter.)
I leave with the thought that Calabria is as much a country as a region – and needs more than one return visit. There is no reason to worry about overtourism yet.
Accommodation was provided by Baia del Sole and Capovaticano resort. More information from Calabria Tourism