MacDonald or Donaldi … Patrick or Patritti?
Posted: Thu Aug 01, 2013 11:07 am
The oddest of Italian communes/villages should be in Scotland. In fact the villagers mostly speak with a Scottish brogue. These are the leftovers of Scottish mercenaries who settled there about 450 years ago.
Believe it or not it wasn’t until about 1900 that the Italian authorities discovered that for four centuries, the village of Gurro lay snuggled in the snowbound Alps. Almost all the inhabitants, about 750 of them are descendents of Scottish soldiers and their language contains hundreds of non-Italian words which resemble no other language in the region. In all they have about 800 Scottish words in their language.
It seems that stragglers from a regiment of Scottish archers who were perhaps mercenaries protecting King Francis I of France, after a serious defeat in the battle of Pavia fled to the north in an attempt to reach France. Apparently the snow was very heavy so they decided to hold out in what is now Gurro. From here the 100 odd men figured they might be able to creepy crawl back home.
Fortunately for them they were not pursued so they decided to stay on after the thaw, probably because the place seemed a little like their highland glens.
Today their heirs living in a sort of Shangri-La are not bothered by the world at large or by the rest of Italy. In fact there isn’t even a policeman in Gurro cos they have no need of one.
This quaint little village very occasionally receives the odd tourist, usually a lost one who stops to ask for directions. Incidentally, Gurro is like the end of the line … you can’t travel any further.
Apparently these Scottish-Italians are friendly but they no longer wear the kilt or their plaids any more and for economic reason many go to Switzerland to seek employment.
Oddly enough many who left the village as kids have returned simply because they love Gurro and their only worry seems to be the fact that their mountain-top TV transmitter which shows stuff from Rome and Switzerland, gets destroyed every few weeks by lightning.
Believe it or not it wasn’t until about 1900 that the Italian authorities discovered that for four centuries, the village of Gurro lay snuggled in the snowbound Alps. Almost all the inhabitants, about 750 of them are descendents of Scottish soldiers and their language contains hundreds of non-Italian words which resemble no other language in the region. In all they have about 800 Scottish words in their language.
It seems that stragglers from a regiment of Scottish archers who were perhaps mercenaries protecting King Francis I of France, after a serious defeat in the battle of Pavia fled to the north in an attempt to reach France. Apparently the snow was very heavy so they decided to hold out in what is now Gurro. From here the 100 odd men figured they might be able to creepy crawl back home.
Fortunately for them they were not pursued so they decided to stay on after the thaw, probably because the place seemed a little like their highland glens.
Today their heirs living in a sort of Shangri-La are not bothered by the world at large or by the rest of Italy. In fact there isn’t even a policeman in Gurro cos they have no need of one.
This quaint little village very occasionally receives the odd tourist, usually a lost one who stops to ask for directions. Incidentally, Gurro is like the end of the line … you can’t travel any further.
Apparently these Scottish-Italians are friendly but they no longer wear the kilt or their plaids any more and for economic reason many go to Switzerland to seek employment.
Oddly enough many who left the village as kids have returned simply because they love Gurro and their only worry seems to be the fact that their mountain-top TV transmitter which shows stuff from Rome and Switzerland, gets destroyed every few weeks by lightning.