VIVIEN ALIGHTS FROM A BATTERED COACH – EAGER TO EXPLORE
2nd October.
VIVIEN TAKES A ROUND ABOUT ROUTE.
Vivien had already stayed a week in Napoli (Naples) to explore that town; also Pompeii and Herculaneum. We feel that Herculaneum gives a quicker, less tiring overview of domestic living in Roman times and Vivien agrees.
I have to point out that Pompeii shows more of the ‘Grandeur’ of Ancient Rome – but it is a vast site. I would still like to explore the side of Pompeii that was mostly closed in 2011 and is now open – but not sure if I can now manage all those cobbled streets.
Do both if you are keen, but allow two days to thoroughly explore Pompeii, however fit you are. (It can be very hot to walk around exposed to the sun and with little shade, even in October.)
Vivien decided that rather than come by train (about 1 hour) she would take the bus from Naples to Matera, which took four hours, as it stopped at many small towns and the route was via Bari. I do not know if Vivien was prepared for the age of most buses in Southern Italy, but she is a well-seasoned traveller and takes any discomfort in her stride.
A SMALL STREET MARKET
Vivien’s bus was due in around noon, so in the morning Graham and I went to find a street market on the outskirts of Matera. I was genuinely curious, wondering if Italian markets resembled the high quality of those we had found in France; I hoped to find cheeses and fruit from local farms.
It was not that sort of market, although I bought peaches – amazed at the huge bag that 6 euros bought. (When we got home all the peaches were bruised, so I cut them up and boiled them . Some went into a couscous I made, but I re-boiled the rest with sugar.)
This market was on a hill at the very edge of modern Matera and overlooked miles of country, including our ‘own’ Lake Giuliano. It was a tatterdemalion affair, such as you often find here in Britain; the crowded street a riot of colour from carpets, scarves, and jewellery winking in the sun; and, as usual, clothes. I was at last able to buy some American cloth for our kitchen table in a design that appealed, and that I could not find back in Britain (where so many patterns are just wrong for our 1900 farm-type kitchen).
SAVING NERO’S BACON
Also, it cost only 10 euros to replace my ruined, worn-once blouse, eaten by that wretched dog. Giuseppe said he had no name, so I called him Nero.
He is really a pretty young fellow, with a glossy black coat, despite never being groomed. He has never been trained, either, which is why he jumps at you, and bites – though he only made me bleed once. The poor creature is lonely, and starved for love. I would talk very quietly to him, and that seemed to calm him down, and he would come and lay his head in my lap. But he will never learn, I fear. We wonder how he is now, as Giuseppe planned to leave all the animals throughout the winter to ‘go down to the farm below’ on their own – he wanted them to become ‘working’ animals. In other words, he wanted feral cats – and the dogs to become guard dogs. BUT: I have to remind myself that Giuseppe is trying to ‘bring-back’ the farm, long neglected, and that even in animal-loving England our farmers keep ‘working dogs’ and dogs to guard the stock, and few of these ever enter the house.
VIVIEN’S IMPATIENT – FOR THE SASSI
Though a bit travel-weary when she at last climbed down from the somewhat vintage coach, Vivien was avid to see the Sassi – she even declined the offer of coffee or a cold drink. We took her to the squares at the top, where she could easily look down on the entire ruined city – now fast being cleaned up and restored… Of course, she could not wait to find an entrance and explore further – who would not? Matera Sassi district is one of the wonders of the world…
It is always a pleasure to introduce people to places you like and know a bit about, however sketchy; and we felt satisfaction when upon first peering through the three arches in a smart piazza at the top of the old town, Vivien’s eyes sharpened with keen interest.
“I can’t wait to get down there,” she said, and so we set off to explore, descending steps and ramps until we reached some ancient cisterns. It was at that point that I remembered that she who walks down must walk up again, so I left the other two to explore further and made my leisurely way back up. Once in the principal piazza I took a look around the Duomo. This white cathedral had a glass inset in the floor, through which you could view the very much older crypt church beneath. All of Matera is built ‘literally standing on top of one another’, but when it comes to truly ancient churches there is a special enchantment.
NOWHERE LIKE ITALY FOR ICE CREAM
Deciding it must be high time to return to the larger piazza where they hoped to emerge, I took myself off to one of the best Gelaterias in Italy – and that is a tall order.
There was always a queue worthy of any in Britain outside the modest frontage of Il Vizi degli Angeli Laboratorio di Gelateria Artisanale. While waiting in line I studied the board to pick a flavour new to me – not a difficult task, as the list was long. I remembered trying fig, having never come across this blissful tongue-tickler in England.
EVER TASTED FIG ICE CREAM?
Oh, what bliss! I’m not especially partial to figs, especially the ‘fresh’ ones found in British supermarkets; and I can take or leave those sticky dried ones you buy in little boxes for Christmas. But in ice cream! Spotting Graham and Vivien coming across I persuaded them to try it, too (of course, they insisted on cautiously taking a lick each of mine first – and I did not get ‘licks’ back when they triumphantly brandished their overflowing cones, just as I was dumping the last of my dripping cornet in the rubbish bin.) We spent the next half hour or so ‘people watching’ and wandering the lanes of interesting and chic little shops; carefully hurrying past a certain little ceramic studio.
3rd October:
INTRODUCTIONS
Giuseppe had yet to meet Vivien. She was still in bed at about nine o’clock when I woke her up asking if she’d like a cup of tea. I don’t think she was overjoyed. We tend to wake up so early these days, and Graham would put the alarm on for 6am in order to write.
I stayed in bed until 7, but it seemed much later, so after washing some clothes and myself I did my unwelcome hostess act. No wonder she was tired – she had just done four days hard walking around hot and sweaty Naples, and day trips to both Pompeii and Herculaneum.
I can’t help thinking that the 4.5 hr coach ride yesterday must have been bumpy and hot, too.
GRAHAM – GOURMET DISH for GARDEN CRITTERS
Vivien was very welcome, not least because she brought a much more effective remedy than ours to tackle all those mosquito bites. These pests seem to smell Graham from miles off: (‘Hee, hey, ho hum – I smell the blood of an Englishman’) and zoom in for the feast. My poor husband is covered in angry red bumps, which itch and burn like mad. At home it is I who attract the insects – perhaps, like all Italian men, they treat foreign women with courtesy?
This tube of stuff came in very handy when Graham took her to explore the villa’s lush garden, exuberant with greenery forever encroaching upon the lawns. The creation many years ago, mainly of Giuseppe’s father and late grandfather, it was now an enchanting jungle where the odd statue, marble table, or broken fountain hid amongst the profusion of palms, vines, pomegranate trees and every sort of shrub, both northern European and exotic – many that you only see at home as pot plants (often houseplants, and very small.) Vivien endeared herself to Giuseppe, and even more his father Mimi, by her keen interest in, and appreciation of the abundance in this ‘almost forest’ as Giuseppe called it. Whenever Mimi arrived, they made great efforts at bringing it back to its original, formal glory; but we Brits just loved to dive into the lush greenness.
Text by – Jackie Usher, SWWJ. (aka author Debbie Darkin, & ‘Graham Liverpool’ on Trip Advisor.)
Photographs by – Graham Usher.
