Comforts and friends in Italy's intimate inns

NICOLOSI, Sicily — When Patrizia Calvagna, 39, heard the news that conservatives swept Italy's recent elections, she worked off her frustration by staying up late that night baking a ricotta cake and buns laced with chocolate for her guests at La Giara, a B&B in the foothills of Mount Etna where my husband, Tom, and I and four family members stayed recently.

It seemed only right to show our support by helping ourselves to a few extra buns and slices of cake at breakfast the next morning.

I love finding alternatives to traditional hotels when I travel, not so much to save money, but to meet people like Patrizia — locals who take a personal interest in their guests, turning what otherwise might be just another night's stay into a lasting travel memory.

During three weeks of spring travels around Sicily and central-south Italy, our accommodations ranged from B&Bs and farmhouse inns to rooms above a restaurant in Trapani, an apartment in Rome and a newly restored house in the medieval Campanian town of Calitri.

The prices were easy on our euro-embattled budget, but the best part was knowing that we could rely on locals rather than hotel desk clerks for travel advice, especially when it came to exploring areas the guidebooks ignore.

La Giara (www.giara.it), with four comfortable rooms with private bathrooms, a living room, kitchen and wireless Internet, was like a home away from home for the six of us. Patrizia lives with her husband and 3-year-old son on the first floor of the three-story house on a wide, tree-lined street. The price was right: $83-$97 a night, depending on the room, including a breakfast of her homemade cakes, eggs, salami, cheeses and fresh-squeezed orange juice.

Even more valuable were her travel tips. She pointed out a pizza restaurant down the street, where we ate and drank well for $25 for two, and suggested a trip to Castelmola, a little village perched on a rock above the seaside resort town of Taormina, where we sipped almond wine at a 100-year-old cafe.

An Italian farmstay

Anyone who travels around the Italian countryside will notice the signs pointing the way to an agriturismo. There are hundreds of these farmhouse inns, and picking the right one can be tricky. Some are run more like businesses, with the owners focused on catering wedding receptions and parties. Others are simple family farms offering rooms and breakfast, and the option of an evening meal.

I found Rocca D'Aquila (www.roccadaquila.it) while searching the Web for a place to stay near Enna, a hill town in the middle of Sicily where my husband's grandmother was born. Facing snow-covered Etna and surrounded by rolling hills, it's a working farm with pigs, cows, sheep, goats and chickens and, as of November, 10 new guest rooms with tile floors, modern bathrooms, refrigerators and TVs.

The price — $125 a night for two — came with a huge breakfast, and we opted to pay another $40 each for dinner prepared by the chief cook, Mario Algozzino, 34, with ingredients made or raised on the farm.

Mario didn't speak English, but he spoke to us through his cooking. His meals were two-hour events we anticipated after long days of driving and sightseeing.

First came pitchers of red wine made with local grapes, and a half-dozen or more platters of antipasti. There were homemade sheep- and goat's-milk cheese and plates of salami and prosciutto, zucchini with tomatoes, fried eggplant, fritatas made with eggs laid that morning, roasted peppers and fava beans from the garden. Next came fresh pasta, then platters of grilled lamb with mint, pork or veal; a salad; and, for dessert, blood oranges sold on the roadsides by the truckload this time of year.

I was disappointed that we didn't see more of the owners during the four nights we stayed, but Mario's hospitality made up for their absence.

Going fishing

The closest we came to staying in a real hotel was Pensione Tranchina (www.pensionetranchina.com), a 10-room inn in the fishing hamlet of Scopello, 40 minutes from Palermo, Sicily's major city. Owners Salvatore and Marisin Tranchina don't have a farm, but they need go no farther than their own neighborhood to gather all the ingredients for their nightly five-course dinners.

They make their own olive oil from olives grown on 200-year-old trees on property once owned by Salvatore's grandfather. Their marmalade is made from lemons and oranges they grow in their backyard.

My husband and I got to know Marisin, 51, and Salvatore, 59, 10 years ago on our first trip to Sicily, and we've kept in touch. The couple met in Panama, where she was born and he was working. After they married, they moved to Scopello to take over the inn Salvatore's father opened in their family home more than 30 years ago. They've made gradual improvements over the years, turning what we remembered as a simple pensione with shared baths into a classy boutique inn.

"Half-board," as it's called, a room with breakfast and dinner, is $90 a person, and the evening meal always includes fresh fish. Ask Salvatore what it will be, and he will tell you that it depends on what he finds that afternoon when the fishermen arrive back in port.

Coffee and conversation

While searching for a place to stay near Sant' Agata dei Goti, an ancient town built on a rock cliff above a river in the interior of Campania in mainland Italy, I found a Web site called www.vacanzebedandbreakfast.com. At $70 for two, Sentieri Luminosi, described as a "mini-apartment" with bedroom, living area, bathroom and breakfast, was our least expensive accommodation, and the most surprising.

Our hosts were Loredana Fusaro, a cook at a local restaurant and Shiatsu massage therapist, and her husband, Enrico Pofi, a photographer. They moved here from Naples with their daughter, Osmana, 11, a few years ago, and bought a 19th-century stone building on a bluff overlooking the town. They live on the top and rent out a spacious bottom-floor apartment to overnight guests.

From their garden planted with fig, orange and olive trees, we looked down on the town and the steep green mountains that surround it. Enrico, 50, sported a bushy, silver ponytail. Loredana, 44, was a ball of energy. She arrived home from her restaurant job some days at midnight, then got up the next morning to prepare a gourmet breakfast of homemade turnovers filled with apples and dates, scrambled eggs, olives, cheese and fresh fennel from the garden.

Both spoke a little English, and since we were their first non-Italian guests, they were anxious to get to know us. When they found out we were acquainted with a couple in Sant' Agata who run a small tour company, they suggested we invite them over for coffee.

They came around 9 p.m., after Loredana got home from work. We gathered around the dining-room table, sipped espresso, talked and listened to classical music. It was one of those moments that we all hope for when we travel, a time when we no longer feel like tourists, but friends.

Carol Pucci's Travel Wise column runs the last Sunday of the month in Travel. Comments are welcome. Contact her at 206-464-3701 or cpucci@seattletimes.com.