The market in Sulmona is a feast for the senses.

You enter Piazza Garibaldi by stepping down stone steps and passing through a series of stone arches. From street level you see the tops of the arches and beyond them, in the distance, snow-capped Apennine peaks. The vast National Park of Abruzzo, a magnet for nature lovers, surrounds the city.

Down the steps, through the arches, you enter a different world. There are about 200 vendors, under a crazy quilt of dazzling canopy colors, selling everything from DVDs to gym shoes, house wares to flowers, clothing to produce. You want a New York Yankee cap? Someone has a deal for you.

We join the other market-goers . . . walking, talking, smiling, enjoying the sun, aromas, excitement and vendor engagement of market day in Sulmona.

Italian vendors reach out to their customers. They charm them, cajole them, spin a playful web of banter and soon you find yourself negotiating for something that you suddenly feel compelled to buy.

My favorite vendor is the fish lady. She has it going on in a brightly painted truck . . . and she attracts a constant stream of customers. She winks, sings, laughs and puts on a great show. Hell, I almost buy a fish.

Read more about Market Day in Sulmona

We left Fiumicino, not in “my” noble Alfa 147 but in an ordinary Lancia Ypsilon (damn it), heading due east on A24 for Abruzzo and our first night’s destination in Sulmona.

View of the Apennine peaks from the Abruzzese town of Sulmona.

As Sharon caught some shut eye, I missed the exit for A25 because I was paying more attention to the soaring, snow-covered peaks of the Gran Sasso than to the signage. I zipped past L’Aquila (the ancient city that was damaged by an earthquake three weeks later) and was on my merry way to Pescara on the Adriatic when Sharon awoke.

She spotted the mountains and then turned her attention to the map. Oops, I had overshot the exit by some 50 kilometers. My mistake. It didn’t help my case that Sharon and I always debate whether to rest near the airport upon arrival or get on the road immediately.

It was time for another cappuccino.

Exiting the highway, the Alpine architecture made it seem as if we had driven all the way to the Tyrol instead of central Italy. This was ski country. In fact, we learned that Abruzzo boasts the most national parks of any region in Italy. Some guest house/restaurants had already closed for the season but we spotted a charming tiny bar. Spring dandelions poked through the snow.

The gracious bar owner seemed glad to see some Americans. He told us that he had married a woman from Nebraska but that she had returned to the US to live in Colorado. A young ski-bum-who would have looked at home in Snowmass-ordered a cappuccino and sweetened it with local honey instead of sugar.

With the bar man’s directions, we headed on a back road short cut to Sulmona. In the town of Paganica, we decided to change some money before the bank closed for midday. Sharon disappeared through the “Star Trek” glass security tube. The time dragged on as my “on the road” adrenaline began to surge again.

Finally, nearly 25 minutes later she emerged with her Euro and a story about how new anti-terrorist measures had led to increased scrutiny on stranieri attempting to convert cash. She was passed up through layers of junior, middle and senior management before someone could authorize the modest transaction. I think they were just intrigued by Sharon because I  didn’t get that level of attention when I changed money later that week.

Spring blooms frame dramatic snow-capped mountains in Sulmona.

Euro in our pockets, twisty mountain roads behind us, we approached Sulmona. Activating our internal radar, we reached Viale Roosevelt which turns into Corso Ovidio through the Centro. Aha, Sharon spotted the sign for Albergo Stella just as we passed by the tiny street that housed it. After several circles around the general area of our hotel, we succeeded in pulling right up to the door. Proprietor Roberto Bono greeted us so warmly that our irritation melted as quickly as the snow at the base of the Gran Sasso.

Next: Surprising Sulmona

Artist Chuck Olson conducts the Springtime in Italy arts program in Parma for St. Francis University students.

We can find Inner Italians almost anywhere. And so it was that we encountered artist Chuck Olson’s Italian connection in Old City Philadelphia at the opening of his most recent exhibit at the Rosenfeld Gallery.

Sharon’s alma mater St. Francis University in Loretto, PA, hosted the event for Olson, 56, who is Chair of the school’s Fine Arts Department. He has been teaching there since 1976.

Look at Chuck Olson and you see a confident, polished and worldly gentleman. Yet, until he was 29, he had never traveled further from his western Pennsylvania home than Youngstown, Ohio. To polish his pronunciation skills of French artists and authors, he took an elementary French language class, then an additional 27 credits in French. “Studying a foreign language helped me understand and appreciate the power of a new cultural dynamic,” Olson said.

He met Marie, a French woman, in the United States and in 1987 they married. Marie shared her roots in western France with Chuck, and eventually, their two children. Every summer, the family rented a French farmhouse. “We prefer really experiencing a place, rather than collecting destinations.”

In 2006, Olson was given the opportunity to direct the Springtime in Italy arts program in Parma. “I took a risk. Many people in their 50s tend to withdraw but I jumped at the chance. Initially I didn’t know the language, I didn’t know a soul in Parma, but the journey has been amazing. After three years, I can stroll into the Mayor’s office after a warm welcome by his security people and discuss our programs,” Olson said.

“Italy was a different experience for me . . . the light, the foliage, the language. The food was different, even the bread. The people were more open and sharing. That helped me shape my teaching philosophy. My students’ experiences won’t be limited by lack of imagination. So I encourage them to travel on the weekends, participating in and sharing every cultural difference they can. The students come away with experiences that are legitimately their own.”

Italy has been fertile ground for Olson to develop interpersonal relationships. “I enjoy making connections between good people. Many of these relationships blossom, and a few whither on the vine.”  It is the magic of Italy that inspires people to connect with others.

To view more of Olson’s acrylic paintings, visit The Rosenfeld Gallery.

I sniffed to myself when I scanned this morning’s Wall Street Journal “Relative Values” real estate column. A 3,700-square-foot house resembling a casa colonica with five bedrooms, three bathrooms, and one powder room on 60 acres-in a development called the Vineyard at Florence-is listed for $5.5 million. “Hah,” said I, “if I had 5-and-a-half mil, I’d high tail it to Tuscany, not the Texas hill country.”

Since the aforementioned assets are not even a blip on my radar screen, I took a free trip to The Vineyard at Florence. Gorgeous scenery, fabulous amenities, 30 acres planted in vines  . . . what’s not to like?

The site explains that the developers are The Dionysus Group, LLLP, comprised of “members who share a desire to combine the best elements of life-community, exceptional living, natural beauty and wine.”

Guess they’re nurturing their Inner Italian-just like I am . . . albeit with much better funding.

L'Aquila's Palazzo Civico in better times.

Our plan to begin posting stories of our recent Puglian adventure is delayed by the horrible news of the earthquake in L’Aquila, Italy, that occurred during the pre-dawn hours on Monday, April 6.

This one strikes home to us because we drove past L’Aquila, the capital city of the region of Abruzzo, on March 24 while on our way to the Gran Sasso in the Apennines. We then continued south to the town of Sulmona for the evening.

The territory near L’Aquila is stunning. Snowcapped mountains soar more than 2,900 meters into the sky and I, for one, had a sense of solidity from all that formidable rock. But the region is prone to earthquakes and this terremoto registered a reported 6.3 on the Richter scale. Sadly, there are many fatalities, including children, although accurate numbers are still sketchy.

The American Red Cross Web site states that they have not yet been called upon in the relief effort. The New York Times is reporting that the Italian-American Museum in Manhattan is collecting donations for earthquake relief in L’Aquila.