La dolce fly-fishing of Italy

Italy and fly-fishing go together like tagliatelle and tomato sauce.  Okay, maybe more like biscotti and grappa – not everybody’s favorite pairing, but oh so adventurous.
Italy and fly-fishing are among the loves I share with Dottie, my wife of 40 years.  But, if asked to choose, she would  put Italy ahead of fishing  For me it’s not so easy, which is why I combined both in our most recent adventure.
Traveling in Italy these days are only slightly muted by what we must all do to protect ourselves and others during Covid. Although each EU country has its own rules, most are similar to those set by the Italians. In addition to our passports, we needed our COVID  vaccination cards, plus proof of a negative COVID test within 72 hours of arrival (in Italy).  Dottie and I used the Abbott BinaxNOW Covid-19AgCard version, which can be taken at home, verified on line, and documented via the NAVICA app. We also needed to fill out a European Union Passenger Locator Form on line. The airlines check most of these documents before they let you board.
Going through Italian customs was a breeze. Customs officials seemed happy to see us. And, as the taxi brought us from the airport toward the historic center of Florence, we recognized the vibrant signs that the Italy we met and fell in love with nearly three decades ago is coming back to life. The streets, sidewalks, stores and cafes were bustling.
Florence is a feast for the senses. We saw it all around us in the incredibly old buildings; heard it in the poetic lilt and passionate rhythm of spoken Italian, accompanied, of course, by enthusiastic hand gestures, and we also heard it in gentle rush of water flowing out of a grotesque mask into a shell-shaped fountain (Fontana dello Sprone) attached to the corner of our ancient apartment building and positioned directly below our balcony one story above.

The fountain was sculpted by Bernardo Buontalenti in 1608 for the wedding of Cosimo II de’ Medici to Maria Maddalena d’Austria. As far as we know Cosimo and his bride never lived there. They had much fancier digs on the other side of the Arno. Even so, we were in a great location, close to the river
So much culture surrounded us, that we could stand on the balcony and absorb it with every breath – the scent of stewed pork, onion, celery, carrots, tomatoes and wine – the main ingredients of the ubiquitous pasta sauce served in the dozens of tavernas, bistros and ristoranti surrounding our apartment in every direction.  There were two literally downstairs.
We found our place through VRBO. It was a lucky discovery, and allows us to dwell as close to real treasures and relics as you can get, without bunking in a museum.   And speaking of museums,  there were more in Florence than you could visit in a month of Sundays. And they are vastly outnumbered by restaurants, pizzerias, gelaterias (gelato shops), and panetterias (bakeries). I’m glad I brought my largest elastic-waist pants.
One might rightfully ask, “ If Firenze is filled with so many interesting and delicious distractions, why would you even think about fly-fishing?”
Because a river runs through it, of course.
It was possible to scan the Arno from the sidewalk fronting numerous cafes serving espresso and pastries, a delightful way to take breaks from an exhausting morning. The river meanders past one centuries-old structure after another and beneath Ponte Vecchio, the most famous bridge in Italy.
When the Medici family ruled this city state, the shops on the bridge were mostly occupied by butchers who dumped whatever they couldn’t sell into the river. The water became so stinky that Fernando I de’ Medici banished all of the butchers from the bridge in 1500s.  Goldsmiths and jewelers took their place and remain the bridge’s main merchants to this day.
During World War II, the Ponte Vecchio was the only bridge in Florence not mined by the German troops. Rumors were that Hitler himself had given strict orders not to touch it.
So, while enjoying my espresso, I was able to scan the water searching for signs that fish lurked just below the surface.  I didn’t see any, but was told by locals they are in there, although they don’t recommend eating them.  But some fish in the Arno anyway, just for sport.In fact there are guides who take fly-fishers out on the river several miles north of the city for Wels catfish, which can be four to five feet in length and weigh 50 pounds. They are ugly brutes and have been filmed stealthily sliding into shallow water near shore to ambush pigeons bathing there.
I was tempted to call one of the guides, but had a hard time imagining how I’d lure a Wels to my line. A fly as big as a pigeon would be hard to cast.
I decided instead to call Luca Castellani, a guide I fished with in Umbria a few years ago.  He guides fly-fishers on rivers in Umbria and Tuscany, including the Tevere River (aka Tiber River) whose headwaters are located about two hours east of Florence. The third longest river in Italy, it eventually flows through Rome. The upper Tevere offers good trout fishing.


DOTTIE AND I, took the train to Arezzo, a small city about an hour and a half ride southeast out of Florence.  She decided to stay in the city and shop, while I jumped into Luca’s car for a one-hour drive over another ridge of Apennine Mountains to the Alta Valle Del Tevere (upper Tiber River valley), the source of the Tiber River, lifeblood of ancient Rome.  The river flows out of the Apennine Mountains south and west for more than 200 miles, winds through Rome and eventually enters the Mediterranean.
It once marked the boundary between the ancient Etruscans to the west, the Sabines to the east and the Latins to the south.  Even that far north of Rome, there is a connection to The “Eternal City.” The remains of Pliny the Younger’s country estate was dug up a few decades ago not far from where I caught trout. Pliny built the spa-villa for his wife Calpurnia to maintain her beauty and grace.  A prolific writer, he is most famous for his description of the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 AD.
But, in reading about Pliny, I discovered that two others of his generation, Marcus Valerius Martialis and Claudius Aelianus are considered the earliest Roman fly-fishers.  In a sense, I followed in their footsteps.
The Alto Tevere is a stream Luca helped bring to life a decade ago after a dam was built on it. He and fly-fishing friends organized a private effort, Club Altotevere, whose mission was to restore the river using the ice cold tail water from the lake above the dam to support a healthy population of brown trout. The organization operates its own hatchery and controls access. Luca even found a way to introduce Mayflies, Caddis and other natural insect prey of trout to the stream side habitat.
The effort has been a success, and there are lots of big, well-fed trout thriving in the several miles below the dam where the water is well-shaded and cold enough for one of Luca’s clients to call it “…nothing less than a fly-fisher’s paradise.”
For a few hours I waded in waters where, 2000 years ago, Calpurnia may have bathed, and Valerius Martialis cast an ancient fly. Thanks to Luca, I caught and released some very nice trout.  Of course, we also took a break for a delicious lunch at one of his favorite nearby restaurants, another perk of fly-fishing in a land where you’re never very farm from someone serving the world’s tastiest pasta.

EVERYWHERE we went in Italy, we saw the positive signs that the pandemic had not diminished the Italian zest for la dolce vita.  Even if foreign tourism has not returned to previous norms, the Italians themselves seem to be making up the difference. We noted that most occupants, proprietors, customers and people strolling the sidewalks were Italian. The Italians themselves are bringing their country back to life.
The Covid pandemic hit them hard in early 2020. Italy had the oldest population in Europe with one of the highest life expectancy worldwide until the pandemic struck, taking a huge toll on those over 65. The country virtually shut down. In cities like Florence, narrow streets and sidewalks, tiny cafes and shops, made safe distancing impossible. People stayed home, waiting it out, making do as best they could, and grieved at the loss of so many of their loved ones, friends and neighbors.
But those terrible dark days appear to be behind them. Their approach is pretty simple and straight forward. You can’t enter any inside space without wearing a mask. You cannot enter a restaurant without showing proof of vaccination. To enter a theater, ride any plane, train or bus you must wear your mask and also show your vaccination card. This has become part of the new normal, a rational accommodation to protect themselves and everyone around them.
Life is coming back, perhaps with even greater appreciation because of what was overcome. We saw it everywhere: Workers and visitors shared inside counters and sidewalk tables for traditional mid-morning coffee breaks. Retail stores were busy. Lines formed midday at favorite panini (sandwich) shops. And at night most popular restaurants were packed inside and out with diners.
Opera is not my favorite type of music and I know little about it, but more than the food, art and history, opera seems the truest representation of the indomitable spirit of this country.
We were fortunate to be in Florence the week the opera house reopened after more than a year. The first show was Verdi’s “La Traviata,” Zubin Mehta, conducting and Placido Domingo played Giorgio, one of the lead characters.
Dottie and I, and our Sonoma friends, Chad Overway and Jeanne Montague, found ourselves seated with hundreds of Italian opera fans, mostly citizens of Firenze, when Maestro Mehta raised his baton and filled the evening with Verdi’s music and the beautiful voices of an amazing cast, including talented American soprano Nadine Sierra, who, as Violetta, was the star of the show.
That night in Florence, all spirits, those of sophisticated opera fans and novices alike, were raised out of the darkness of a horrible time. There was obvious joy on the faces of the artists. They were back on stage at last and shared their happiness to the very last note.
When it ended, we stood and applauded and would not stop. The artists bowed again and again, and we kept applauding. We would not let them leave.
In that moment, audience and artists alike realized how wonderful it feels to be alive the way we once were. Tears marked our faces and those of cast members, and we kept on applauding.  The music lingered, even as we boarded the train to head north for the next stop to Treviso, the next stop in our Italian adventure.

TREVISO, in the Veneto region of northern Italy where Dottie and I spent the final two weeks of our sojourn. Like Florence, a river runs through it. In fact it is located at the junction of two rivers, from which canals have been built throughout. It’s called “Little Venice” because it looks a little like the bigger and more famous city a 45-minute train ride to the south.
Every day as Dottie and I strolled through the town’s narrow, winding streets criss-crossing canals, I kept thinking, “There’s got to be fish in that water.”
I didn’t see anyone fishing. Had I been a resident with access to a fly rod, I’d have at least tested my hypothesis.
Unlike Venice, the water isn’t salt.  It comes cold and fresh from the Sile River which emerges from springs in the nearby hills.  Romans built the original city on its banks, fortified it and then built canals into which they diverted some of the river water.  They also built a deep moat around the city walls for further protection.
Most of what the Romans built is either buried or was replaced during the middle ages, when Treviso was a very important crossroads in this part of Italy.
The old part of the city inside the walls has a distinctly medieval look and feel, with narrow, winding streets and alleys, hidden piazzas, and ancient churches, once the center of village life, but now mostly quiet save for the faithful few. Some have been turned into museums and art galleries.
The canals bring the Sile’s waters through the 15th Century walls and cut through the middle of old part of town past ancient structures rising out of the water, like those one sees in Venice. In fact there are places that look so much like its larger cousin, that you’d swear it is an actual suburb of Venice.
While I had previously arranged fishing further north in Bassano del Grappa, I hadn’t anticipated fishing in Treviso.  Unfortunately, there were no fly shops or tackle stores in the city from which I could rent a fishing rod.  But, several local residents confirmed that there are fish in the river and canals and some people do catch them, but I didn’t see anyone angling during my stay.
Nevertheless, right in the middle of several intersecting canals, I found a small island reserved for commercial anglers to sell their catch.
Few, if any, fish come from the waters inside the city walls. In fact, salt-water fish, caught that morning in the nearby Adriatic Sea dominated the offerings. Some of the mongers offered trout, but admitted that they were from a nearby farm/hatchery, not from the local river.
Still, the Size River and the canals that ran virtually within a few blocks of our apartment, looked very fishable to me. Had I had room for my rod, or been able to borrow one from a local, I would have given it a try.
Dottie and I also spent a few days in Venice, an easy train ride away. Because there were no cruise ships there, Venice was pleasantly walkable with no heavy crowds to impede casual strolling. Most of the shops, restaurants, and museums were open and the majority of visitors were Italian.
We were always happy to return to our vacation rental apartment in much smaller and quieter Treviso, a charming city with friendly inhabitants that take a great deal of pride in their home.  
Many residents live and work in the immediate suburbs surrounding the old city walls, and then come into the city’s main piazzas on weekends to meet with friends and dine. Most of the bars and restaurants have more outside seating than inside On weekends the piazzas were crowded, late into the evening, as families with children lingered over wine, grappa or espresso to spend time with their friends.
The one big event we enjoyed there was the “Tiramisu World Cup” competition. Featuring young chefs from all over the country in a contest to see who could make the best version of this delicious Italian dessert, was introduced to the world at the Le Beccherie restaurant here in the 1960s.  
We had dinner one night at LeBeccherie, which has become an upscale and popular place to dine in Treviso. The dinner was good, and of course we had tiramisu for dessert.

SWEETER YET was what awaited me a little further north at the based of the Dolomite Mountains (Italian Alps).  There I would meet and fish with Italian fly fishing guide Matteo de Falco.
In my perfect imaginary world, I’d be 30 years younger and have Matteo’s job. But in the real world, I am several years beyond three quarters of a century old and settled for one great afternoon of fishing with Matteo on a beautiful stretch of the Brenta River that flows through the enchanting hillside city of Bassano del Grappa, in northern Italy.
Matteo met me in front of Bassano’s medieval castle, which is attached to the equally ancient hotel that Dottie and I stayed in for the weekend. Dottie opted to browse the town’s museums and shops while Matteo and I did our browsing a few miles upstream on the river that meanders past the city and eventually flows into the Adriatic near Venice.
A bright, engaging guy, Matteo speaks excellent English, especially compared to my poor Italian. But we both love and speak fishing. His father is an avid angler as was his grandfather. Matteo spent much of his childhood finding new ways to fish oceans, rivers and lakes. Today he spends most of his time producing and directing TV shows about fishing while also guiding.
He began his career as a fishing guide and became so accomplished that a television producer hired him to make fishing documentaries for TV. Now, he is the managing editor for channel 236, Pesca TV on Sky Network, all fishing, all the time. If there was a way to subscribe here in the U.S., I’d be the first to sign up.
A few days before meeting me to fish the Brenta River, Matteo was filming an ocean fly-fishing episode off the coast of Spain, followed by one on sea bass angling in the Venice Lagoon. 
When in Italy he often stays around the northeastern waters and loves the Brenta river because there are lots of very large trout lurking in its waters.
Just a few minutes north of Bassano Del Grappa, the Brenta meanders through the wooded foothills directly below the steep cliffs marking the start of the Dolomite Mountains. Here, the river is flanked by public hiking trails and shaded by a dense line of trees. The section into which we waded was wide, clear, cold and free-flowing over a bed of small to medium-sized stones. The water wasn’t deep, but there were plenty of areas that looked likely to hold trout.
Matteo has one particular species in mind, the marble trout.  Related to the German brown trout, the marble is unique to this part of Italy, as well as neighboring Slovenia. Marbles are big, aggressive predators, known to approach four feet in length and weigh 60 pounds. The water in which I was about to cast a fly didn’t look like it could hold a fish that big, but Matteo showed me photos of marble trout he’d caught there that proved his point.
That day however, neither of us were able to entice one of the monsters to take our flies. I did manage to catch and release a nice marble/brown hybrid and a grayling.
The Brenda is also home to some very large rainbow trout, as I discovered when one snatched my dry fly off the surface and performed an amazing imitation of a wild Pacific-Coast steelhead. It was a big, strong fish, and ran up and down the pool, jumping several times before winning the battle by breaking my leader. I was impressed by its size, but Matteo assured me the marbles were even bigger.
I plan to catch one of them the next time we return to Italy. Even without the cooperation of the big marbles, I had a delightful afternoon of fishing with a knowledgeable and congenial guide.
The history, culture, people, food, charming villages and gorgeous scenery are more than enough to entice you to Italy, but if you are also a fly-fisher, it is possible to add some days to your itinerary to enjoy what the country has to offer.

FLY-FISHING is not a large or well-developed  sports business like it is in some parts of North America, but guides like Matteo and Luca are top notch and they can take you to lots of great water, surprisingly close to all of the other amenities for which Italy is known.  
I’ve barely scratched the surface and already looking at returning for more, especially after Matteo suggested an itinerary that included several days in lovely mountain villages close to streams filled with more big trout. The best part is, we can also enjoy the charm, culture, people and food, before, after and even during our fishing days.
If you want more information on fly-fishing in Italy, here are some suggested contacts: Erik Sanders, info@flyfishitalia.com. Matteo de Falco, Italian Fishing Guides Association, info@italianfishingguides.com.  Luca Castellani, castellaniluca@inwind.it.