The Italian road: going from Keren to Massawa, Eritrea

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In Eritrea, the first thing that come to my attention are the signs of war. Keren on the road - Massaia you see tanks and guns abandoned in the fields. The countryside and the mountains hiding still unexploded mines and ammunition, despite the commitments undertaken by the Government for the demining of the territory. The "Italians" of 1936, is a masterpiece of civil engineering, as well as the railway that still runs on several points, parallel to the road. Sale from 1220 meters to Keren to Asmara 2356 before falling back, in just 115 km, to the port city of Massawa. The slogan of the tourism Eritreo "three seasons in two hours" is the more success. The trip dall'altopiano central Red Sea is able to arouse emotions delightful for those who, like us, is in search of human and natural landscapes outside the beaten routes of tourism.

The town of Keren resigned and miserable it is, with its scattered village clinging to the sides of the mountain, it offers to those who can appreciate a piece of Africa still true. There's nothing to see, not even the market is worth a visit. We see women of ethnic Bilen, the true reason why we have gone right down here, but that its nostalgic atmosphere and makes it charming. Before leaving, we pay tribute to the war cemetery where soldiers are buried in Italy and Ascari (indigenous Eritreans who fought beside our troops). Turning to the cemetery, our hearts are filled with pride and pride, we feel more than ever Italiani.
Go to Asmara to rent a taxi. The trip will be much longer than expected because of the many and unexpected stops. The first just outside the town, and when our driver is forced to brake sharply against a rope suddenly lifted by the military guard at a checkpoint. Nobody is' evil, but the fact fueling a lively debate between the driver and the guards. Paid without any reason a toll, we start, but soon we were again stopped for a puncture that, luck willing, take place near a village. Immediately frotte children barefoot and poorly dressed run around the car for us to feast. E 'moving to observe the expression surprised, to see the images of them played on the monitor of the camera by Mavi. The huts of the village (called Hidma) with a roof of earth held up by wooden posts. The pace towards Asmara is always very slow to stop us continuing the wayside, now to photograph the body of a tank, now a beautiful landscape and to visit a typical market.

The capital of Eritrea remember a very Italian city of 30 years because all the buildings and works have remained unaltered as the Italians when they left. Visiting Asmara is a journey back in time in a past that a little 'is because it belongs to our memories of our parents, because we studied about in history books and several documentaries seen on television.
Asmara is not appreciated for its architecture, even though typical for the market, but walking up and down Liberation Avenue and making acquaintance with the locals, mostly older people as well speak Italian. Among these, a shoe retailer that is expressed in proper Neapolitan dialect - without wishing to offend anyone, the scene is fun - we can accept a response as we deemed compatriots and foreigners. Regrets the era of colonialism in which Italy took the country many positive things as development, progress and prosperity. At that time, the nation was one of the African leaders. Then, Mussolini, brought the Apartheid. Still follows the policy of our country is said of the happy return of Savoy in Italy and criticizes our government, everyone, for having abandoned their colonies in spite of nations such as England and France, which, however, still protect their colonies .
Walking is impossible not to see the typical greeting of ex-combatants that is to shake hands at the same time giving three shoulder with your right shoulder.
An old woman to the office phone recognizes our nationality es'avvicina eager to exchange four words in Italian. In ten minutes he tells us everything about her, grew up as from the age of two years with a mission of Italian nuns. Here is explained so well because it speaks our language.
An engineer, see our walk on the street with backpacks on their shoulders, approaches his car ec'invita to deposit the luggage in his office. Accepted and once in the car Thanks for your kindness. I do so because Italians are responding.
We are surprised that in this small corner of the Horn of Africa Italians are still much loved. Will be the regret of the young people for past or really Italy - despite having led apartheid - has done much to these people?

The road from Asmara to Massawa is - for all intents and purposes - a mountain road, with lots of gradients and numerous hairpin bends impossible. There s'ingannerebbe easily if it were not for the caravans of camels and dromedaries they meet along the way and the countless cactus, prickly pear cactus and India, which cover the slopes of the mountains.
A Dangolio, a plaque recalls the Italian soldiers, "immolatisi for the homeland" in the battle of 28 January 1886. Soon after we cross the famous bridge, known to the Italians and even more to us in Piedmont, as it bears the inscription the only sentence in the dialect of Piedmont in all Africa.
At Massawa, which welcomes us with a spirit truly unbearable! A Massawa Island, the heart of the city, we wander among the alleys and remote areas to come into contact with the local people, very hospitable and very willing to talk. So we know a group of women trying to bake a kind of "farinata" in furnaces luck, cans for oil in which is made of wood burning and closed at the top, from where a lid is casting the mixture. Invite us to drink a kind of beer made at home the "sura." In order not to accept being rude, but swallow the drink with extreme fatigue, hoping at the same time the effectiveness of vaccines. On a small square of the girls offer us another beer, the Asmara beer, no doubt another drink. Everything takes place outside, in open air: it speaks, to play, you sleep, you magic, listening to music, etc.. Etc..
The next day we make an excursion in the immediate vicinity of Massawa, in the direction Gurgusum, to visit a village of ethnic rashaida. They encounter an edge of the road. Being a Muslim population of adult women wear the veil, which - unlike other places - there is evidence to be finely embroidered. Returning to town, the bar of our hotel, take a pleasant conversation with Mohammed (78 years). Remember when the train passed continuously to go to load cargo ships, than under the Empire was prosperous Eritrea. Speaking of Italians makes monarchists by fascists: the good and bad the first seconds! Remember very well the apartheid when, for example, could not enter the bar and seating on buses.