All bad things come to an end, so with the break over, what’s cooking?
So here we are, after a five-month sabbatical, the Early Whistle returns as promised. Well, you didn’t think you were getting away that easily, did you? It was mentioned in that tear-jerker of a last post back in August, that change was in the air here at Whistle HQ. So is it true? Yes and no, you could say.
The die-hards among you will have that fabulously deluxe hot-air-balloon logo burnt into your brains, so with that in mind the decision was taken to make travel and tourism the overriding theme. Foodie features will naturally tie in with this, however sport will be at more of a premium. Never fear, they’re far from mutually exclusive, and with things taking on a more international flavour, the incoming Thomas Tuchel could well get a mention here and there. Even old favourites like Snacks from the Dead could find new incarnations.
Hopefully that’s given you an idea of the direction the Early Whistle is taking, but we begin 2025 with some very familiar, yet relevant territory. I’ve just spent Christmas and New Year in a country dear to my heart. Yes, it can only be Italy! And the verdict? Buonissimo.
Until now, I’d only experienced la dolce vita in the summertime, particularly in Calabria, the region whose beaches have given rise to the nickname ‘Costa degli Dei‘, or ‘Coast of the Gods’. Yet even the Tyrrhenian Sea is a tad chilly during Yuletide, so you could be forgiven for thinking a Calabrian Christmas might be a bit of a bust – not a bit of it. The atmosphere is every bit as festive as the UK, and on Boxing Night, the small town of Ricadi becomes a real-life Nativity scene, complete with goats, shepherds and assorted Marys clutching babes in swaddling clothes amongst the straw-covered streets. Across the square, a band strikes up playing traditional folk music to add layers to the Xmas atmos.
As for the tourist count, that was next to zero. So, if you’re able to forego the beaches and sitting outside at night, it could well be the winter break for you. One place that definitely doesn’t depend on beachlife (mainly because it doesn’t have any, and it’s in the north of Italy) is Bologna, which is where my New Year was to be spent. It didn’t seem like last summer that I’d last set foot in this thoroughly vibrant city, and whilst there I’d been reliably informed that it too ran low on tourism at this time of year. However, they failed to mention that tourists are replaced with an influx of natives, which is no bad thing, but if you’re hoping for fewer crowds, please think again.
Like summer, the place isn’t overcrowded; just a nice kind of busyness. The only exceptions are the Piazza Maggiore on New Year’s Eve, when it’s sensibly turnstiled and operates a one in-one out policy, and the bar-restaurant across from the Sanctuary of San Luca (I took the train there and back this time). Italians love to eat, especially after a three-hour walk to the summit. Speaking of which, I’ve surely discovered the biggest candles known to man! Bologna’s (albeit small-scale) Christmas market was an unexpected pleasure, as besides those sweet treats it served up a wide selection of hot and cold traditional fare.
What was more of an unexpected chore was the ice rink in the midst of it all. Yes, it had to be done. Yours truly donned a pair of ice skates for the first time in decades, and I swear it’s gotten harder since then. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter, apart from the majority of folks were having a blast. That’s what it’s surely all about, personal embarrassment aside. So there you have it: a winter in Italy from the bottom to nearly the top, which hopefully has given you some alternative ideas on how to spend the festive season.
In the meantime, I’m not too proud to say that I’m open to ideas, so if you’ve got any suggestions, or articles you’d like to see on show here, post a comment in the usual place!
The Early Whistle 