Mayor Jeromy Farkas has said that a future Calgary Olympic bid is “not out of the question” if it offers a strong, fiscally responsible business case to renew aging infrastructure.
Although he strongly opposed the 2026 bid, he now acknowledges the potential for a “strong business case” that benefits the city long-term, particularly for sport training and urban legacy.
- Calgary Herald
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The Italian peninsula resembles a knee-high boot with the cuff folded over, as the 17th-century French Musketeers wore. Italians call it simply “Lo Stivale,” one of the nicknames for the country.
Italy’s major cities — Milano, Verona, Rome, Venice, Bologna, Florence, Perugia and Naples, plus many smaller but fabulous medieval towns, are located in the north. It is the storied part of Italy, jam-packed with superb art and classical architecture. It is where the Renaissance began. However, after visiting several times, Bruno felt he was missing something, perhaps the soul of contemporary Italy.
A note in the travel guide caught his attention: “To see an unspoiled 19th-century Italy, you must travel south from Naples on the proverbial Boot, until you reach its ‘ankle’ (Basilicata province); the ‘spur’ is Gargano Peninsula, and further yet to the ‘heel’ (Puglia province). The ‘foot’ and the ‘toe’ of the boot are in Calabria.”
Great tourist attractions in the South are the cities Matera and Alberobello, but even those are too far from the main Italian tourist areas in the north for the tour buses to go to, and therefore are not too crowded.
Italy is very narrow in the south, only about 45 kilometres from coast to coast, with the Apennine Mountains in between. The larger coastal towns are busier and a little more modern than the villages in the hinterland. The biggest town in the area is Reggio di Calabria, from which a ferry leaves for Messina in Sicily. The Strait of Messina is so narrow that in clear air, one can see the volcano Etna in Sicily with the naked eye. Scilla, 23 kilometres up the coast north of Reggio, is considered one of the oldest settlements in the region. It has ancient, mythical origins tied to the period after the destruction of Troy, often associated with Homer’s Odyssey and the legend of the sea monster Scylla.
Today, Scilla is a typical fishing town with a fort above and a lovely beach. Other small fishing towns on the coast are Tropea, Palmi, and Nicotera. Many are in places where there is a hill on which there would be the ubiquitous fortifications, now falling into disrepair. Their defensive purpose was lost when modern heavy guns were invented. But they add to the towns’ picturesqueness.
On the east coast, the big commercial ports are Bari and Brindisi. Lecce, on the heel of the Italian Boot, is reputed to be the only Italian city with baroque architecture, and the fortified Taranto in the Boot’s instep is also worth visiting.
Bruno expected that the unspoiled, laid-back, 19th-century Italy would be inland, and it was. Just a few kilometres were all it took. He stayed in the foot of the Italian Boot, not far from the Strait of Messina, in an inconspicuous little town called Galatro. Time stands still in this place of no observable commerce, other than a few olive groves on the steep slopes above it, each tree surrounded by netting to collect the fruit when ripe. Citizens play cards every afternoon in the corner store kitty-corner from the church on the only town square. After each day trip, Bruno stopped there for a beer. One of the players was the town policeman, who also owned the store. The minute Bruno entered, the owner-cum-police officer opened the beer for him, pulled in an extra chair, and invited him to join. But Bruno did not know the game, other than that it was played with a deck of regular cards. So he limited himself to drinking his beer and taking in the ambiance. Occasionally, a customer came in, picked up whatever he or she needed, and left the money on the counter. There was no worry about shoplifting — after all, the owner was the law.
Hills behind Galatro are frozen in time, probably never visited by tourists. No matter where one turns, there is solitude. During the weeklong stay, Bruno alternated between visiting the quaint little coastal towns and the largely deserted mountains with just a few tiny settlements in the centre. Once, close to the end of a fairly long day’s drive that was supposed to be a loop starting on the shores of the Tyrrhenian Sea in the west, crossing over the mountain pass to the Ionian Sea in the east and back, Bruno noticed a billboard on the side of the road containing two ominous words — Strada chiusa. That was not good, because it means “the road is closed.” The rest of the text was incomprehensible to him, but the long narrative with names of towns that weren’t on his map worried him. Was it an instruction on how to bypass the section that was chiusa? Was the road really closed? But in Italy, the abnormal is often normal, so he didn’t turn back. Besides, he could not figure out the detour, and going back to Galatro the way he came would have been quite a bit longer than finishing the loop despite the potential difficulties.
Soon, there was an enormous mesa in front of him. That in itself was not unusual, but this one was gigantic. The road switchbacked to the top, where Bruno arrived in the medieval city of Gerace. Streets were mostly one-way and hard to squeeze through. Eventually, he emerged in the main square called Piazza del Duomo. It was sloped, paved with rough stones, and presently occupied by a Polizia Municipale officer, who resolutely stopped him because he was in the pedestrian zone. It was time to play the “tourist in distress” card, so he asked about the road closure. “I want to go to Gioia Tauro, but I saw a sign a while back stating that Strada is chiusa?” It seemed the officer only understood the words strada, chiusa, and Gioia Tauro. “Not chiusa,” but he indicated by the international sign of rotating the hand that the road was in a dismal shape. “Can I get through, though?” Bruno gesticulated. “Of course,” the officer replied with a shrug of his shoulders, but he clearly felt sorry for the car. That resolved, Bruno asked if he could park somewhere close to visit the Duomo. Its official grand name was Basilica e Concattedrale di Santa Maria Assunta. Italians just love elaborate names! Frankly, from the outside, it did not look too interesting. It did not even have a bell tower, but as a diversion from getting a fine for driving in a pedestrian zone, it was convenient. “No, not here in the middle of the square,” indicated the good man, and he directed Bruno to the parking for the disabled. He assured him that he would look after it. One must love these Calabrese policemen!
The Duomo was worth the stop. The Fiat survived the rest of the journey, although it was a bit hairy at times. The road was totally deserted, probably thanks to the Strada chiusa sign down on the coast. The only traffic on it was either sheep or goats, always under the close supervision of dogs — no humans anywhere in sight. There was nothing else. It was the 19th-century Italy Bruno had hoped to see.
*****
Up on the top of the Calabrian hills, above Giffone, on a narrow, no-name country road, the Carabinieri had a checkstop. Two smartly dressed officers were attracted to Bruno’s brand-new Fiat 500L, probably because it was not yet all beat-up, or maybe it was just the first car they saw that day. The Carabinieri spoke no English, and he did not speak Italian. They wanted to see “documenti,” so Bruno gave them his Alberta driving licence and the Europcar rental contract. Luckily, they did not ask for a passport, which he kept locked up in his suitcase in the B&B. A torrent of Italian followed, presumably asking what he was doing there. Bruno repeated the word “vacation” several times and indicated “driving” and “around.” The senior officer kept writing in his dossier so long and so much that he must have been copying even the fine print from the back of Bruno’s driving licence. When done, he asked: “Calgary? Canada? Olympics?” After Bruno nodded three times, he was free to go. It is good to hold those games from time to time, after all!