I wanted to show GS the buffalo that make the mozzarella.
I remember them, off the Appia, magnificent black beasts with huge horns looking as if they have just fallen out of an Asterix cartoon. I remember  driving down the Appia, through tunnels of umbrella pines, spaced so that the light falling on the road was strobed, mountains to the east, flat drained mashes to the west.  There were Mozzarella shops on the other side of the road. Everywhere.
I took the little ones here. I bought them balls of  fresh mozzarella. They bit into them like apples, the white milk running down tanned thin arms. I wanted GS to experience the same. I promised him the dream.
We set off down the Pontina, onto the Appia. We saw three mozzarella shops but without Buffalo in the fields opposite I dismissed them.
We were on a buffalo hunt.
Could we find a single buffalo?
Nope. Not so much as a moo. Some great castles though.
So we stopped at Fondi which had incredible Cyclops walls. These are very, very old although exactly how old seems to be a range from the bronze age to these positively modern 7th century blocks.Â
It is just incredible see flats growing out of these truly ancient walls and think of the hundreds of years of families who have lived there.
Probably looking for buffalo.
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Coffee-Fondi-768x1024.jpg)
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/crazy-old-walls-768x1024.jpg)
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Olde-Italian-puzzles-768x1024.jpg)
After a delicious fig roll and coffee (with no mozzarella) GS was muttering that it was a long drive to Basilicata and was I sure there were any actual Buffalos  here, since we hadn’t found the  Medieval Borgo, I had mistaken Ostia for Fiuminino, and it wasn’t that long ago I  booked us a holiday in  Lago Bolsena instead of Lago  Bracciano. And, I had, to my mortification, booked the wrong dates for our next stay, having asked for an arrival dinner for which we were going to arrive a full 24 hours late. Gawd.
I asked the barista who said that if I wanted Mozzarella there was a cheese shop right outside on the corner. I said I wanted to show GS the buffalo frolicking in the canals. At least I hope that is what I said. The barista said they were in the mountains, not by the flat, wet field bit by the sea. Â
GS said that he didn’t want to look for  buffalo on the coast road anymore since it was a good extra two hours driving with no evidence of a single bovine inhabitant but perhaps some of early onset dementia.
 So instead we drove for miles across the mountains sometimes on single track roads, past mountains and cliffs. We didn’t see a single buffalo, not in a field nor hanging onto a cliff face by its teeth.  Nor a morsel of Mozzarella.
I took the prudent decision to retire as chief navigator.
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/no-buffalos-768x1024.jpg)
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/still-no-buffalo-768x1024.jpg)
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Screenshot-2023-06-06-at-23.27.41-1024x616.png)
Then we drove for hours. Past smoking Vesuvius, more mountains without buffalo and in and out of whacky tunnels.
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Vesuvious-768x1024.jpg)
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Tunnels-768x1024.jpg)
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Cold-mountains-768x1024.jpg)
After dramatic forested mountains with low hanging wispy clouds, ravines carved from soft soil, wide river beds with fast flowing narrow rivers feeding a huge lake we started on a ‘Strada Bianca’ or white road. This country lane  twisted and turned us up into the mountains, at each bend there were expansive views to the horizon. Then our destination came into view, an ancient place of caves, convents and old stone houses falling down the side of a ravine.
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Rabatana--1024x768.jpg)
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Ruined-convent-1024x768.jpg)
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Rabantana-768x1024.jpg)
Martine, our wonderful host at The Bergamot, Rabantana had said that she would pick us up in her tuktuk. But loving a challenge GS put the car in 4×4 mode, hit the accelearator and we tore around the first vertical ascent/ blind bend. Everything in the car flew to the windscreen as an Ape appeared with a lad as surprised to see us, as we him.
Up and up we climbed with far reaching views until we came to a ravine over which was a bridge, originally drawbridge, and there the lovely Martine awaited us, 24 hours late, for dinner. What a feast!- asparagus wrapped in ham, salami, peppers, pasta with sardines, parmigiana melanzane and fresh strawberry pavola. Martine and I have been chatting for years on Facebook, we share a passion for old buildings and it was so lovely to finally meet. It felt more like meeting an old friend that meeting for the first time. What a lovely evening.
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/Fresh-wild-flowers-768x1024.jpg)
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/candles-768x1024.jpg)
![](https://whitmartlet.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/pavlova-768x1024.jpg)
 The initial plan was that we would head off to Matera the next day, but Rabatana was so atmospheric and ancient that we decided to see how we felt after a good nights sleep.
Have you been to Basilicata or have any tips on the area?Â
I would love to have your comments or please do follow for more.