Pre-Christmas Viaggio

So, here's the deal. A week-ish ago I was lucky enough to meet up with my super-amazing friend who was doing research in Rome for a few weeks, and was able to go with her back to the love of my life: Mola di Bari. I wasn't sure how to verbalize the experience, so I of course turned to my resident pro blogger to do all the hard work for me. It's called 'delegation' folks. Commence the guest blog, written with love by the ever-fabulous DeNap:


Many of you all may not know me so let me start by saying that I am Katie's study abroad pioneer, if you will (no pun-connection to DU intended). Last year I spent my fall quarter in Bologna and spring semester in Perugia. Katie and I met while we were both participating in the Mola di Bari interterm program last December. As either of us will tell you, this was the best month of our short lives and we left after four short weeks with a seriously special place in our hearts for that little town. A couple of weeks ago I was fortunate enough to return to Italy and Katie and I were able to take a quick weekend trip down to our beloved Mola.

A few important things worth knowing about Mola is that it is so obsolete that any Italian will laugh in your face if you tell them you have been there. It is basically a tiny little random fishing village on the very heel of Italy's boot. It is also, as we discovered, a perpetual snow globe of unchanging simplicity. 

That being said, I realized on our trip down there this month that it was impossible to feel anything but extremely strong emotions when thinking about Mola. They are as follows, in no particular order.

1. A crazy desire for the Pugliese food. As Katie and I have mutually agreed upon, food from the region of Puglia, more specifically from the Bari area, is by far the most delicious in Italy. Much like Mola, it is simple, but special and well worth a $900 plane ticket. Furthermore, the food that is found in the town restaurants (with the possible exception of Pizzeria Angelo's and Cuoch's) cannot compete with the food of Gina Quaranta - owner of two town B&Bs and honestly the most amazing cook/baker/all-around-food-preparer that I have ever had the honer of knowing. Hand in hand with this desire to constantly be eating food in Mola is a feeling of euphoric happiness that any foodie can't help but love.

2. Extreme jealousy. Whether it be the fact that we are insanely envious of the people who get to call Mola their home or the people who summer there, the phrase "green with envy" is an understatement when it comes to the way we often feel when in Mola. Even more, this unbelievable jealousy crops up whenever our adored professoressa speaks to another human being that is not us or gives someone else a loving bacione.  We also allow that jealousy to creep in between us and spark some pretty brutal feuds, but they usually end all right. It's ironic, though, that a place we love so much can spark such an intensely negative emotion, but it's all part of the package I guess.

3. Nostalgia. When not in Mola it becomes obvious that there is nothing else worth talking about but Mola. The food we ate there, the laughs we shared, the conversations had, and of course the invaluable life experiences that occurred all dominate our daily, hourly, minute-by-minute conversations. Some could say it is more like a crazed obsession that inhibits us, but I'd say that it is the greatest form of love and appreciation for a place ... a feeling of nostalgia that never fades. Ok, that was a little bit sappy. 

Most of all, what I hope is coming across here is that Mola is one heck of a town. To us it is fabulous, perfect, unchanging, and it will always be the random no-name place that stole a big piece of our hearts. Going back again was a privilege, mostly in an emotional sense since it was just so tough to leave last year and because being in a place like that is therapeutic in every way. Plus, Gina's panzerotti should be something of legends.