Rouen cathedral is world famous. Everyone who passes through Rouen makes sure to at least see its very elaborate frontage, painted so many times by the well-known and loved Impressionist Claude Monet. We decided that such a World Heritage sight deserves not just a post all to itself – but the First Mention in Rouen…
ROUEN CATHEDRAL DESERVES FIRST MENTION:
The details of our stay in Rouen, like our hotel and other discoveries, are described in the post following. So I have jumped forward to our first port of call on our first morning in this celebrated historical city.
Truly awe-inspiring Arches
MAGNIFICENT ROUEN CATHEDRAL – PHOTO-SHOTS
After Graham had taken numerous photos of the well-known Cathedral frontage, he turned his attention to buildings in the immediate area.
Sadly, the very lovely old apothecary’s building (now the Tourist Information Centre) did not make a good photograph at all – its best features did not show up when we finally had a good look back home.
MAGNIFICENT ROUEN CATHEDRAL’S VAST INTERIOR
To my secret relief, we finally entered through a side door into the echoing cathedral. So long and high are the aisles, that one is almost overwhelmed by the plethora of soaring arches – impossibly high. Craning my neck, I could see that each supported a vaulted roof, and collectively they fronted many a side-chapel.
What really impressed me were the lines of saints along some of the walls (see Feature Photo). They were all rescued from the exterior (probably the so-elaborate front entrance, which is impossible to take in all at once). Some were very worn indeed, while others were easily recognisable – certainly by Catholics, whom I imagine will know their canon of saints quite well by the symbols they carry.
ROUEN CATHEDRAL RETAINS MUCH OLD STAINED GLASS
One of the Many Stained Glass Windows
Oriel Window
There were a few very old stained glass windows, and one lovely Rose Window. What impressed us both were the high, mainly blue windows of great intricacy that formed a semi-circle behind the freestanding altar at the far end from the main door.
Stone Staircase
WE FIND ROUEN CATHEDRAL’S ‘WOW’ FEATURE:
But even they were superseded when, moving to leave by the front entrance, we glanced down a side aisle towards the reredos and both let out an ‘Ooohhh’. We simultaneously spotted a most delicate small stairway of stone lace. It seems almost unique in its intricacy, and pretty coloured stone. Graham took many photographs of this early masterpiece.
We left the hotel at 9am, in order to reach the ferry port in Dover an hour before sailing. We had intended breakfasting at a remembered treasure:
Dawn’s Delight. 22 Cheriton High St, FolkestoneCT19 4ET
This admirable café is an ‘institution’ in Folkestone. We had counted on a good breakfast to sail on – but could not quickly locate it. It must have been at the other end of the town, so we arrived on the boat quite hungry. The breakfasts aboard were very expensive and from past experience less than thrilling, so we made do with a Café au Lait and a Pain au Chocolat each.
A SMOOTH CROSSING:
The crossing was smooth, and Graham left me lounging in a comfortable seat with my legs up, as per doctor’s orders, while he went off to take photographs of the white cliffs.
GOODBYE SHOULD HAVE BEEN ‘AU REVOIR’
Of course, I had to go out on deck to say goodbye to England. I’m never the only one to be gazing at our guardian cliffs until they disappear from view.
THE WHITE CLIFFS – MORE THAN A PRETTY FACE
On a previous trip we spent a day touring Dover Castle. One of the best – and if we hadn’t been members of CADW (Wesh Heritage) which earned us free admittance, we might have balked at the unusually high charge – which would have been a pity. It is worth every penny.
We would have missed the ‘bonus’ of delving into the miles of tunnels within those famous white cliffs. Started in the Napoleonic wars, and the centre of operations in the Dunkirk rescue in World War 2, when the hidden windows and tunnel openings enabled strategic views of the large ships and small boats (down to a rowing boat manned by a boy scout).
Not so White Cliffs of Dover
WHITE CLIFFS DISAPPOINTINGLY NOT SO WHITE –
The White Cliffs of Dover needed a clean up now. These iconic guardians of the entrance to England are presently marred by tussocks of scrub and dark streaks. Any other nation would see that they were kept gleaming white…
SEAGULLS SEEM TO STRIKE A POSE
Graham also made many studies of the harbour and shipping – not forgetting the seagulls. They seem to enjoy having their photographs taken as they so often strike perfect poses, or fly slowly past at close quarters.
Leaving Dover
CROSS-CHANNEL FERRY – PLENTY TO ENJOY
As our English cliffs disappeared from view we were fascinated by all the maritime activity on this busy waterway. Pretty soon the outside decks filled up; we were all peering for our first glimpse of the French coast. The time seemed to fly, but we had enjoyed a ‘breathing space’ before embarking down the ramp and on to French concrete…
We had booked four nights with Martina and her brother Salvatore in their B&B, rated for some time now in Trip Advisor as No.1 Hotel in Pompei. This was our fourth stay with them. (2009,2011; and in 2014 we stayed five nights before taking the car ferry to Croatia).
We had received such a warm welcome on our very first visit in 2009 to view the ruins, when Martina’s mother, Antonella, was in charge of La Casa de Plinio (Martina being on holiday). She insisted on ushering us into her private kitchen. There she plied us with wine and cakes (we had been out for a pizza already). When her husband, Andrea, came in from work we settled into a convivial evening with the help of a tablet he owned (very new then) which translated our conversations for all of us.
Since then we have been embraced as part of their family – Antonella, Andrea, and their children Salvatore and Martina; and Martina’s partner, Vincenzo.
POMPEI: HUGS, KISSES AND COOKING
Vincenzo
As usual, the moment we turned into the courtyard Martina was on her mobile phone, rushing down from her flat and letting us in through the large gate. Within twenty minutes the entire family surrounded us, and we were hugging (but NOT kissing – I warned against it!) All had left their work. Salvatore and Vincenzo had soon to rush back to their places of employment – but they still came.)
Andrea’s work took him much further afield, but he cooked a special welcome meal for us that evening in the house where he and Antonella live. Graham and I struggled to do justice to the delicious food, the ‘flu having robbed us of all appetite.
POMPEI: WE RECEIVE TLC.
Our Italian family (they long ago adopted us) were great. I don’t know what we would have done without their loving help. They were in the throes of redecorating all the rooms, which they do every year. Despite this we both stayed in bed for three days, and because I was still very poorly they agreed that we could stay out the week. This meant they did not close as they had planned. So Martina accepted another couple, and an Italian family, the mother of whom became a thorn in her side. ‘I’ll never accept Italians again. They are the worst,’ she declared. (I’m sure that’s not true, really.)
Graham got up on the fourth day but I stayed in bed. Martina kept popping in with hot drinks and offers to make food, which we declined. On our last day I knew I must get up, as we’d be travelling the next morning.
To our surprise Antonella popped in and cooked lunch for everyone, including Anna, Martina’s delightful, hardworking assistant. She was in the crowd around the table, passing bowls of a very light spaghetti dish containing calabrese (and celery? It was a long time ago). I know the sauce was light green and so delicious that I managed to eat half of my bowlful.
Farewell Lunch at La Casa di Plinio
We’d asked Martina to cancel our original two-night bookings in both the Cinque Terre and Orange. Instead, we took a more direct route of one-night stops in order to reach the Channel tunnel on the 29th November (not wanting to pay extra).
FAMILY FAREWELLS
20TH November.
We left Pompei on Sunday the 20th. I felt pretty rough, but just well enough to travel. At least the delay had given Graham time in the last day or two to use our friends’ motor mechanic to check out the Golf, which was starting to show signs of wear. Good job too! He found two valves in the water system that were almost blocked. He replaced the cheapest and cleaned the dearest. He said we should now have no trouble, and safely see the white cliffs of Dover; though how we were going to do that from the tunnel begs the question. Graham, delighted by the low bill, said he was being cheerfully Italian.
Before we left Graham went into our friends’ garden and picked a lemon and some oranges. The temperature in the sun was a pleasant 21C. So with the warmth and the sun shining, not a bad place to have ‘flu, we thought; better than England in mid-November.
AMAZING FAMOUS ROMAN MOSAICS – LOVELY MEAL – TAORMINA – GREAT SMALL HOTEL
12th November:.
ANGER ENDS IN DELIGHT
We did have an adventure on our last day in Sicily, of course…
Despite debilitating influenza raging within us both, we were in any case faced with the long journey home. Our well-developed avidity to see everything of possible interest to us on our tours was difficult to shake off, even while fighting headaches and deep weariness.
“We’ve plenty of time to go and see this famous Roman pavement,” I pointed out in bed that morning. “All the guides say it is a must,” I pleaded.
Of course, Graham had to Google it to make sure he could trust my word, but then he readily agreed, because it was practically on our road, the SP15; and just 1hr 44 minutes away on the direct route to Taormina. There we would be staying overnight before catching the ferry. Our total driving time that day was estimated as 3 hours, 46 minutes.
So off we went, after stopping for Graham to snap an attractive sea of roofs belonging to the town of Trony that sat level with our road. Then we carried on down, deviating just a mile or less from the highway to find the turn-off to the Roman villa. This seemed to us to be at least another two slow miles along a narrow lane.
Chiesa San Martino, Trony
A RARE RIP-OFF FOR ITALY?
Finally we turned into a large car park. A man in a ticket office demanded money –a steep (for Italy) 11 euros each, before we even parked our car. In order to do this we had to pass two rows of booths selling bric-a-brac, tee shirts and souvenirs of varying quality. There was even (horror of horrors in Sicily, so famous for its cuisine) a hotdog stand. I had my walking stick, which was as well, because the ticket seller pointed up a steep track to a small building. His English was not good, but in any case he was brusque and dismissive in the extreme.
I STRUGGLE UPHILL FOR NOTHING
It was a challenging climb for me, especially in the heat (well over 30C). Panting, we finally arrived there, only to be told that the pavement was a further kilometre uphill. (The same narrow, roughish track.) When Graham asked if there was availability for invalid parking he got a curt ‘No’. So my darling asked if he could not drive me up the track.
“No.”
With my disability I could certainly not manage the long climb up to the villa – even using my stick. (Perhaps by now there is invalid access…)
RUDE STAFF – AND NEED FOR AN INFORMATION BOARD –
Fuming at the waste of our time Graham stalked down to the ticket hut and demanded his money back. We did not realise then – and there was no explanation – why those fees were so steep. They were very high for Italy. Since returning home I have seen pictures of the exceptionally fine, very detailed and bright mosaics. There are a great many, and they cost £18 million to clean up.
An information board in several languages with a few illustrations would have helped immensely towards our understanding – as would a more courteous and helpful staff.
Had we known more at the time, we would happily have paid up – could I have accessed the site
I have since seen even more pictures of these mosaics on Google – and they really are truly exceptional. I urge you to make the journey to go and see them if such antique art interests you. Here are a a sample taken from the site that I have put a link to and I hope they don’t mind us showing them here on our blog.
Of course, we had no idea what we were missing. When Graham climbed back into our car he was so incensed that I had to shout at him to remind him that on the way in we had passed a very nice-looking trattoria. Grumbling at me, he hurled our car in to park in front of this place full of old amphora and other Roman memorabilia – and even in November – lots of lovely flowers. I hold that spotting abundant flowers outside an eating-place is a sign that you may expect good food. I’m rarely wrong.
Trattoria La Ruota
IN PIAZZA ARMERINA – WE ENJOY OUR BEST MEAL IN SICILY
And so it proved. We enjoyed our best meal in the whole of Sicily. Our waiter was friendly, and spoke fluent English. He restored our sense of humour with his wit; especially his colourful opinions of the ticket seller down the road. It is only since finding the bill amongst my souvenirs that I realise he had cunningly inserted another 3 euros with no explanation – so study your bill. In the event, it was not enough to break our bank…
So it was with full tummies, and in a far happier frame of mind that we drove the short way to the SP15. We finally coasted easily down the road to our final, friendly hostelry in Sicilia.
TAORMINA GARDEN HOTEL.
DAY 7:
LAST NIGHT IN SICILY –
I gave it 5 stars in my Trip Advisor review:
We booked this hotel for our last night in Sicily. (Seventeen days still left to return home in our car from our three-month tour.) This was one of the very best places we stayed in. Although the room was small, it was pleasant and quiet. We loved the gardens and the shoreline mini-bay, with rock boulders and little boats. It even had its own bar. We went down in moonlight – it would be idyllic for honeymooners.***
Famous Roman Mosaics – Moonlit Cove
THIS COULD HAVE BEEN A MINI RITZ – GREAT SERVICE IN A SMALL HOTEL
The staff were all friendly and helpful – and THOROUGHLY professional. (The manager had risen in the ranks in the Dorchester Hotel, London.) He was not only charming and attentive; he showed real concern that Graham was not well. He would not allow him to carry any of our luggage, but himself brought all of it down the tricky steps from the small parking area just off-road.
We could have been staying at the Ritz instead of this very small, very affordable hotel. The food we had (both still suffering from ‘flu) seemed unadventurous – but then, we had little appetite, so disregard and judge for yourselves. Breakfast was good. We met nice people staying there – lots of Italians who probably go back and back… We Thoroughly recommend.
Next time, although our room was good, I’d love one on the lower level, which might have sea views…
While in Carini we went to many places: The star for us was SEGESTA.
I discovered SEGESTA while still at home, on one of my trollings through the Internet. It is a lonely temple that appears complete – unlike most of the number that cluster in and around Valle di Templi, further down the West side of the island, where all the tourist groups go.
I did not tell Graham of my find but noted it in my little book of ‘Things To See’.
SEGESTA – MY LITTLE SECRET
Now we were staying a forty-five minute drive away. I told Graham I would like to start the day driving along the E90 towards Trapani, an attractive seaside town. (We had pretty well ignored coasts in Italy. We did once try the famous Amalfi Coast, but concluded that it is always so choked with traffic you would see more if you took a coach trip along it.)
My husband was a bit mystified that we were taking the lower road. When I told him to turn onto the E933, which took us away from Trapani, he was even more so. But I had a good idea of what would meet our eyes.
Closer up
Closer still
SEGESTA – A GLEAM OF COLOUR
Before long the narrow road climbed a fairly steep hill on our right-hand side. Clumps of trees adorned it. Suddenly there was a gleam of colour appearing from a small spinney near the top.
It almost hid the less visited, but most spectacular ancient Greek temple. (Actually, it isn’t Greek – as we learned when we visited the centre. It was built probably in the 420’s BC. The Doric style suggests it was the work of an Athenian architect living in the area, in order to impress the Athenians, when an earlier civilisation – the Alymians – sought their aid.
And maybe that explains why we never learned of a dedication – to Athena, or any other god or goddess. Even so – it was a breathtaking sight.
We saw it first from the road. Suddenly, there it was! Graham was so thunderstruck by the sight that just for a second, he stopped our car on that lonely road. (See the feature image)
How immense
SEGESTATEMPLE – GASPINGLY IMPRESSIVE STILL
It stood shining out at us in its entirety, all alone on a wooded hill. Its apricot-coloured stone gleamed in the sun. It is a totally untouched, complete survivor. It is majestic.
Later, as we walked up to it, we appreciated its vastness. What an impressive work of art from 2,500 years ago…
Time eaten Stone of Segesta
JUST ONE REGRET
Our only regret later was that we had not on the way taken in a famous 12th century cathedral or church near Palermo. A visit that could easily have been made that day:
Monreale.
This Duomo boasts of containing the heart of St Louis (patron saint of France, (King Louis 9th, born 1214). It also (we learned later) has in the apse a mosaic icon of an even earlier saint – St Thomas a Becket of England. It is said to be the earliest holy image of him.
Monreale had been on my list. The city itself is said to be very beautiful, and overlooking Palermo. Regrettably, there simply wasn’t time to go to all the ‘special’ places that Sicilia offers.
The next day we visited Syracuse – city of living history. Principally because we love history, Central Syracuse impressed us the most of the whole island of Sicily. In truth – Syracuse (or ‘Siracusa’ as the Italians call it – and it is THEIR city) is a place so full of beauty, history and charm that we know we only touched the surface. If we are ever able to return to Sicilia we will make Siracusa our base.
SYRACUSE – FIRST THINGS FIRST – WE PARK IN THE BUSY HARBOUR
As I remember, it took a long time to traverse the road from the highway that led down to Syracuse. Like most early settlements, it was built by the sea. Following the signs to ‘Harbour Car Park’ we saw, as we got close, the spars of yachts and other boats, large and small. Then we entered a wide, clean street lined by smart hotels. We emerged by the most impressive: a quietly grand, pinky-terra-cotta building of some age. It took up the entire corner at the end of the horseshoe-shaped enclosed harbour.
Near the Harbour
Even more imposing was the ‘palazzo’ we could see beyond the large bridge spanning the river that disgorged into the sea. We parked, and strode into the small piazza where they sold tickets for boat trips. But we were both thirsty, and there was a tempting little bar facing the sea.
Cafe
SYRACUSEHARBOUR – AN EXCELLENT LITTLE BAR
A pretty, friendly girl served us with Peronis, while I admired the covered snacks that lined a long, covered ‘cooler’ counter. It was too early for lunch. Later, when we stopped at a place that gave us the ‘end of season’ treatment, I bitterly regretted that we had not gone back to that bar – but we did not wish to retrace our steps so early.
Cats attracted by a birdcage on a balcony
SYRACUSE – WE CLIMB NARROW OLD STREETS
There was quite a trek up narrow, winding streets of elegant, tall houses. I would guess them to be late eighteenth century – like our Georgian era. Cats hogged every patch of sun until frightened off by motorbikes. These roared down (and up) at fairly regular intervals, somehow dodging around us in the confined space. Then the cats would reclaim their patch of sun. Italian love of cats may be because they keep rats and mice at bay in these warm old towns. Every so often we would find ourselves in a small piazza, generally with a fountain in the centre. Some of these had stately and elaborate stone carvings as a base.
SYRACUSE – THE BEST THINGS ARE ALWAYS AT THE TOP
Emerging from the deep shadows of a narrow street we were lured by the airs of Vivaldi being expertly played on a guitar. As soon as our eyes adjusted to the brilliant sunlight, we found ourselves in a very large and elegant piazza. Graham was enchanted by the expertise of the romantic-looking, curly-haired young man who sat outside the cathedral, absorbed in his music. He was very talented indeed. After taking several photographs, and engaging in conversation, Graham asked permission to make a small video. After buying a CG, and exchanging email addresses (sadly mislaid since), Graham left a generous tip and we resumed exploring.
SYRACUSE DUOMO – UNIQUE IN BEAUTY AND HISTORY
The Duomo
We especially admired the Duomo (Cathedral). It had a very clean, elaborate, baroque frontage – all rosy-white. But the gasp factor came when we went inside and found ourselves in a vast, mainly empty space with pitted columns of enormous girth. We had to look right up to see the tops – so high was the ceiling. To our right, beyond the nave, we could discern many chapels hidden behind them.
A DAGGER IN HER THROAT.
One of the inner chapels was dedicated to St Lucia– one of the three patron saints of the city. There she stood, richly dressed in real clothes, with a large, fearsome dagger stuck in her neck. She gets regularly paraded like this throughout the city.
AN EARLY CONVERSION.
Inside the Duomo
We learned that the whole building is an early conversion, using parts of an ancient Greek temple to Athena. Indeed, on one side of the exterior you can see where the walls have been contrived. They were built in-between the ancient columns, still standing strong in their entirety.
SYRACUSE’S ANCIENT TREASURES – HIDDEN BENEATH THE BAROQUE.
We had to pay a small sum to enter. It was explained that our tickets also included the remains (next door, and below the level of the cathedral crypt) of a much older, (5000 year-old) temple to Artemis. She was the daughter of Zeus (chief god) and Leto. Artemis was Goddess of Hunting, like the Roman Diana. We also saw the few remains, below the Duomo, of the 5th-century BC great Greek Temple of Athena aforementioned, which had been ransacked to build the present cethedral above it. Archeological site excavations by Paolo Orsi in 1907-1910 show that Greek temple to have been built on even older foundations. They uncovered a wealth of archaic and pre-Hellenic artefacts. Many are held by the Museo archeologico regionale Paolo Orsi in Syracuse.
Part of the Old Temple
THE PLINTHS FOR THE SHATTERED COLUMNS STOOD HIGHER THAN ME
We had to approach the ruins of the older temple (to Artemis) through a rather scruffy, neglected garden. Some shallow steps led down until we finally stood at the bottom, on a wooden walkway. A marvel met our eyes: We appeared to be about three feet above the uneven floor level of an enormous chamber. The sheet of explanations stated that most of the pillars had been broken up or transported to build the temple to Athena that was the basis of the Duomo next door. Even so, I got down and stood on the base of one of the plinths upon which the original pillars were erected, and the square block of stone reached to above my head.
5,000-YEAR-OLD SPECIAL SEATS REVIVE OLD MEMORIES
As we progressed along the walkway more marvels emerged. Namely. a glass-covered relief model of the original layout, and then an intact row of stone latrines. They reminded me of the old ‘karsies at the bottom of the garden’ that I had to use each time I was evacuated to the country as a child. (I wondered if those very, very Ancient Greeks had the equivalent of little squares of newsprint strung on gut dangling down beside them…) These were grander, as they had armrests carved between each hole. I had a vision of Greek worthies sitting solemnly reading their scrolls like Mr Bridger in ‘The Italian Job’.
The Latrines
WE DISCOVER THE BACK HARBOUR (ORTIGIA ISLAND)
By that time we were quite thirsty, but we took that stroll round the back of the headland, and found a completely different harbour from the one we had first encountered. There was a feeling of it being much as it would have been in the Renaissance, with sailing ships pulling up to disgorge cargo into the smaller warehouses that lined the long sweep of the quay.
Syracuse harbour
HUNDREDS OF PHOTOS – SPECIAL MEMORIES
Graham has many, many photos of this wonderful ancient city. Its old side streets captivated him, as well as the grand squares with their fountains. Below is a taster of the many ‘quiet corners’ where people live their lives, relatively undisturbed by tourists.
A Quiet Corner
A Cartouche
HIDDEN FROM TOURIST EYES
While in that area we explored some other, lesser-known towns inland, and closer to Mount Etna. Most of these betrayed the very real poverty Sicily is still suffering. We got curious stares as we entered one town where we had to turn around because the road leading out from the main square and down the mountain had completely collapsed, right in front of a house! We felt great empathy for these struggling people, and could not help wondering why more of the riches culled from tourists like us could not be shared to improve the lot of these inner, less-penetrated towns and villages.
Sicily is a beautiful island, where we stayed in four private B&B’s.
We spent a week in this much-serenaded island. As well as its charismatic coast and colourful towns, Sicily has many ancient Greek ruins. (We came across a complete Greek temple, all on its own on a hill – magnificent!)
DAYS 1 -3: (5th-7th November.)
‘SICILY IN LOVE’ OUR B&B IN TRIPOTELLO – WE LOVE IT
We stayed for our first three nights at ‘Sicily in Love’, in Tripotello. We had half a well-equipped, attractive holiday flat. (The other rooms were locked, but we had a kitchen and bedsit with a very good shower room with toiletries. Several cupboards gave ample storage.)
FRESHLY-MADE BREAD AND LEAF TEA FOR BREAKFAST
The friendly and helpful hostess was always there at breakfast to dispense fragrant fresh coffee (or leaf tea) however you liked it. She stayed to cut the still-warm crusty bread she made every morning. Unusually for Italy, there was always a selection of meats and fresh fruits, cereals and yoghourts as well as her home made cakes and pies. Something for everyone, from wherever in the world. Terms there are surprisingly cheap.
Mount Etna with smoke and snow
SICILY IN LOVE HAS A GREAT VIEW OF MOUNT ETNA
Another happy feature of our stopover was the short walk up the road to overlook Mount Etna. It looked surprisingly close (because so enormous a volcanic mountain.)
Another short walk, descending through steps and a footpath, took us into Tripotello itself, which had some lovely little shops. The only drawback was the narrow pavement each side of the very busy main road.
We highly recommend:
Sicily in Love, Via Degli Ulivi3, 98039,Taormina,Italy. 003 93 66 818 2134/+ website.
TRIPOTELLO – ‘EL FEUDO’ – APTLY NAMED
Our nice landlady suggested we eat at El Feudo restaurant down the road, and gave us their card. It took a little finding, but looked very impressive (and rather expensive). It stood on a hillock amid very well kept and extensive gardens. We went in, anxious to try the famous Sicilian food we had read about so often. It was a large, attractive room, and the tables were a mixture of the very long, and 2 and 4 seaters. All were laid with good linen and glassware, etc.
EL FEUDO – ‘WAITING’ WAITERS
We were in an almost empty restaurant. We did not mind, except that, bewilderingly, we were just left and left while the headwaiter lounged around, chatting to his staff. At last the sommelier came over and was curt in the extreme. We were told we could only order pizza as they were expecting a large party.
EL FEUDO – GRAHAM’S DINNER IN HIS LAP
The next night we arrived at just past 8pm and ordered a full meal. The service was unnecessarily slow. When it did come the plates were slammed down in front of us (a plate of spaghetti in a tomato sauce landed in my husband’s lap.) Our plates held nothing like the attractive food other people on the large party tables were getting. We could not understand why, as we always make a point of being friendly and polite.
El FEUDO – ONLY WANT LARGE PARTIES?
When we came to pay, the owner of the restaurant was taking the cash. He asked ‘Did you enjoy your meal?’ So my husband explained how it had been ruined by deliberately rude service. The owner just shrugged. Our conclusion was that this restaurant was only interested in taking large parties and found it an inconvenience to serve couples. In our view, small parties would be wise to Give it a wide berth.
TAORMINA.
6TH November:
TAORMINA – YOU WIND AROUND TO THE TOP – AND THEN SOME
Whilst in the area we visited Taormina, which is altogether delightful – and so a tourist-trap. It was busy enough even in early November. One can only imagine what it’s like at the height of the season if you wished to leisurely explore. The top town, the old bit, has to be reached by a special bus after you have already wound your car round the corkscrew mountain. We had to park our car and with other visitors, wait for the bus to take us to the main square. This was predictably full of tourist shops.
Tourists in Taormina
TAORMINA – ARABS, ARTISTIC SWEETS & ANCIENT GREEKS.
Majolica Ware
Taormina Old Town is very attractive and colourful, with many shops selling majolica ware – not least the dramatic ‘Arab’ and ‘Royal’ heads in bright colours. They look great adorning garden steps in the area – but we declined from buying one to bring home. We knew all too well how many of these local delights can look really tawdry back in grey old England… Besides, they were understandably not cheap.
We did buy many gifts, though, at an extremely posh confectioners’ selling the most amazing sculptures of all sizes in chocolate and marzipan…
WE ADMIRE SOME ‘HIGH CLASS’ SOUVENIRS
Even in November people were shuffling past doorways surrounded with colourful large platters. Shop windows were stuffed with copies of ancient amphora, Greek jugs and the like. And always those Arabic or King and Queen ‘heads’, from tiny little ones to fit into a backpack or suitcase, right up to twice life size. Some were garish and horrible – proper ‘Tourist souvenirs’. But there were some very stylish ones in highly polished jet black – or ditto white – and others that had been exquisitely hand-painted. I must say, I was very tempted at times, but Graham has a horror of being thought ‘cheap’. We certainly could not afford the most artistic versions. Many sell for well over €2,000.
We turned from the shops and joined the throng pushing through the archway to the ‘Citta Antica’. Our little crowd was immediately transported to an enchanted, timeless world.
TAORMINA – A LAND OF ROMANCE – OR A HOLLYWOOD FILM SET?
We still had to climb, sometimes by steps, but there were always pretty little streets off to our right. Many ended in distant vistas. Suddenly, through an archway just to our left, a flight of steps led down into quite a large, hidden Roman garden.
Roman wall and Garden in Taormina
Bougainvillea in Taormina
TAORMINA – A MOST ARTISTIC FLIGHT OF STEPS
We stopped to admire this short street of pretty, small hotels, their balconies dripping greenery. One at the end was almost obscured by abundant bougainvillea.
Then we ascended a truly artistic flight of grey stone steps. At intervals were platforms where exotic palms and the like were planted in square parterres. These spaces were interspersed with seats, and drinking fountains that had ancient faces carved on them. I rested while Graham took photographs. We passed little side roads with many attractive restaurants. Looking down the narrow, cobbled ways we enjoyed the views out across the bay that seem to appear wherever you walk. Very touristy, even in November, but truly beautiful.
Steps up to the top of Taormina
Then we had still more climbing, having to sadly resist the eager waiters standing at the top of each winding lane, trying to tempt us to their restaurant. I felt so mean to keep saying ‘No’ to each in turn… At last we were in a street practically at the top. Some really tempting shops this time, and then street stalls selling favours and souvenirs outside the entrance to the Ancient Greek Theatre.
Faun
Amphitheatre at Taormina
Amphitheatre at Taormina
TAORMINA GREEK THEATRE – FREE ON SUNDAYS
Wondering how much it would cost we approached the ticket booth, to be told ‘It is Sunday – so is free’. This often happens in Italy, but our itinerary does not allow us to be mean foreigners, and plan all our visits this way.
TAORMINA GREEK THEATRE – BACKDROP FRAMES AN ENTIRE COASTLINE
The highlight of that day’s trip was this ancient Greek theatre right on top of the mountain. Superb views of the coast are framed by the pillars that had been part of the backdrop of the apron-style stage. I wonder if you can still see ‘Antigoni of Thebes’ and the other Ancient Greek Classics performed there, as they undoubtedly were, 2,500 years ago.
TAORMINA GREEK THEATRE INTACT – STILL IN USE REGULARLY
It was, surprisingly, a very large, wide stage. One could imagine crowd scenes and dances being performed. All the semicircular seating is still there, in good condition. We also saw into the dressing rooms. The acoustics were amazing. You could quite easily make out the chatter of people the other side of the very large arena.
Amphitheatre at Taormina
TAORMINA GREEK THEATRE – SIT WITH GHOSTS
I was aware of covering ground where Ancient Greeks trod two thousand four hundred years ago. Looking up, I saw that day’s crowd filing along the top to descend. Many took a rest, sitting in the very tiers that would have been filled with enthusiastic, cheering people draped in togas and cloaks. I could almost, ALMOST see their ghosts, and those of the Romans who followed them … ***
There is a most attractive ‘crystal’ hotel as you leave the theatre. It has a leafy garden and must command superlative views. It looked rather expensive, as you’d expect. I’m afraid Graham had to drag me away from looking down at the smart people entering through the glass corridor. I was hungry, and wistfully wondered what it would be like to sit in the transparent dining room. It was all windows. They overlooked that fabulous coastline far below. It stretched to the level-appearing horizon.
BILLY BUNTER’S HEAVEN – WE BUY FANCY SWEETS FOR LITTLE FRIENDS
We walked along past the stalls until we found ourselves in the ‘top street’. It was full of shops selling high-class ceramics and fashionable clothes. I insisted on looking in every window, until we found ourselves in front of a very special confectioners’ shop that we had passed previously. I cannot remember the name of this very classy shop, except that the exterior framing the windows was dark blue, like the smart little bags our purchases were placed in.
View from Taormina
Apart from the finely-detailed little baskets of marzipan fruits we bought for the kids there were amazing, large sculptures in chocolate. Also, ‘Hansel and Gretel’ houses fashioned from a mixture of sweets. I wished I could have come here as a greedy child… All I can give you is this website to provide you with a clue:
To get back to the large piazza where the bus would come to take us back to our car would take about twenty minutes of leisurely walking. On the way we passed an artist displaying life-size cut-outs of tourists who eagerly posed for him. We decided that we would have no use for effigies of ourselves!
We were tired when we got back to our B&B, and still had not seen all the sights of Taormina – but we were glad we had spent a day in this very colourful, uniquely Sicilian resort – and thankful that it was out-of-season!
“If we don’t go today, we’ll never see the little town where Carlo Levi was imprisoned,” I told Graham. “I’ve got to do our packing tomorrow – and there’s quite a lot. We’ve spread ourselves over seven weeks. Apart from clothes there’s that thin duvet we brought which has proved so useful, and things like our chest cooler – never really used, but full of veg and bread; and…”
“O.k., oKAY,” he said. “Don’t go on. I thought you couldn’t find Gagliano.”
ALIANO – CARLO LEVI’S GAGLIANO DISCOVERED
“I told you. He made up the name Gagliano – I discovered that three weeks ago. It’s really called Aliano – and it’s not far. See? And we can call in again at Ferrandina on the way back. You said you wanted to take more photos there. And Pisticci – which Giuseppe said we should visit.”
Thus it was that our last day trip in Basilicata proved to be one of the very best of our many lovely memories of this unique part of Italy.
ALIANO – CARLO LEVI’S LANDSCAPE: (The feature image at the top of this post was taken from Aliano)
Centre of Aliano
Sure enough, as we approached the town – less than an hour’s drive away from our base, the landscaped changed. Flattish ‘khaki’ farmland gave way to the bare, grey-white clay hills described and painted by Carlo Levi. We took the winding, narrow road up to the town. We had to park right at the beginning, until we saw a sign that said invalid parking was allowed further in. This was just as well, because we drove quite a way down the main street before we found the Blue Badge Car Park. Even then a quite long walk awaited us.
We had got as far as some railings overlooking a ravine, where men who clearly looked like locals were eating great slices of pizza they had bought at a littlel shop opposite. We were about to go in when I noticed a tiny baker’s shop almost next door.
ALIANO HAS A TRADITIONAL BAKERY
“Just look at those loaves, Graham – and the lovely rolls. They’re almost like our French dinner rolls at home. I’ve never seen them before in Italy.”
So we went into the shop, which was really the bakery. A very small, very old man was bringing loaves out of a brick oven. He used a long shaft (12 feet?) with a paddle at the end, which he manoeuvred carefully under each loaf.
His wife stood behind the modest, L-shaped wooden counter that fronted the place. She smiled and wished us ‘Buongiorno.’ I pointed at a small loaf on the shelf behind her, but was interrupted.
ALIANO – ‘THE SOUL OF ITALY’ IN A BREAD ROLL
I’d hardly noticed a pretty young girl squashed behind Graham until she confronted us and asked,
“Americano?”
“No. Inglese.”
“Aah. You will like Italian bread, then. Inglese know good bread.”
“Some do – a lot just buy wrapped from supermarkets. Silly things.”
“This VERY good bread. I come from Bari whenever I can. This town is SOUL of ITALY!” She threw up her arms. “And this bread the SOUL of the Soul of Italy! Best bread; you taste. Here!”
ALIANO – WE EAT ‘THE SOUL OF ITALY’
And she lifted up the little counter and dived through to a table at the back, bringing out a small bread roll. This she broke open. She then reached across the amused, ageing proprietress and picked up an olive oil dispenser. She doused each side of the little roll, then put her hands into a small pot and sprinkled some finely chopped fresh basil on each half, bit into one and threw up her hands – “Divine!” She then thrust the other half at us.
“The taste of Italy! Eat the SOUL of Italy!”
So we did –
The proprietress beyond the counter grinned at me and spread her hands in that ‘Waddayado’ gesture seen a thousand times in Hollywood films featuring Italian actors.
Clay columns
ALIANO – NO ESCAPE FOR CARLO
After buying our loaf, and receiving hugs and kisses on both cheeks from all present, we made our way to the railings again. Looking over, we saw sharp peaks of that white clay, too perilous to descend by. And there was nothing else – for miles. No wonder that Carlo Levi did not need to be kept confined, for where would there have been to escape to? In those days (1936-1945) there was little traffic, and only the one road down. The extreme other end of the village held only the bleak graveyard, set on a high promontory. And all the surrounding area was well nigh empty – and very poor.
The piazza
ALIANO FRUSTRATION – LEVI MUSEUM CLOSED – BUT STILL WONDROUS
We followed the railings, passing a really exquisite little square. This held the old town hall, and some attractive houses. Not least was ‘The House of the Hundred Eyes’, so called because of its many windows.
House with a hundred eyes
Unfortunately, the museum was closed, and so we could not get a guide to take us to view Levi’s lodgings at the time of his ‘imprisonment’. Also closed was the house he later had built. Strangely, he decided to return to this place of ‘exile’. He had made so many friends – and no wonder – he had used his doctor’s skills to treat the poor for no payment.
BUT DID WE SEE THE VIEWS CARLO LEVI HAD SEEN?
But we did see them from the outside. The house where he stayed was substantial and attractive. His own, later dwelling was right on the edge of the escarpment. He would have looked right over a sea of the white clay peaks, caused by too much forest clearance in the past. We wondered if he had lived to see the later changes in the more distant landscape, when topsoil was brought in and fields planted on the plains.
NO WONDER CARLO LEVI DID NOT ATTEMPT ESCAPE
Carrying on down the long main street we came to a bust depicting this great man and benefactor. Just below it were steps to a viewing platform to see to the bottom of the deep gorge. Graham went down, but I stayed up top. I watched people coming away from the ‘castle’ – too late for us. A bell tolled ‘Closing Time’.
DID HIS ‘PRISON’ LOOK AS ATTRACTIVE THEN?
Aliano today is a very clean, bright and pretty town. I can’t help thinking that it must have looked very different to Carlo Levi. That writing, painting, Jewish doctor-activist put it and ‘Lucania’ as Basilicata was known, ‘on the map’. He wrote about his captivity there, and the poverty of the whole region, and most of all – the wretched conditions of those starving souls living in the Sassi of Matera. It was through his book ‘Christ stopped at Eboli’ that new homes were built for the 16,000 odd inhabitants turned out of their wretched cave-dwellings. They were offered the alternative option of passage to America and Australia.
Some, like our friend Vincenzo, came to Britain.
Carlo Levi’s ‘Soul of Italy’
LOST IN THE TUNNEL – WE MISSED THE CITTA ANTICA
PISTICCI.
We took a different route back, visiting again (very briefly) Ferrandina. This road first took us through Pisticci. Giuseppe had told us that this town should be on our list. So we were bemused when after entering by a very long tunnel cut through the mountain, we finally ascended to a rather boring, characterless modern street of little shops. We did pass a statue in a small piazza. It did not seem that Pisticci was that special after all. We were just as bewildered as the staring local inhabitants were by us. Clearly, they were not used to foreigners in left-hand drive cars.
The road looped down, and we exited through the same tunnel by which we had entered. We were glad to stop once more in Ferrandina. Later, studying the map carefully, I realised that we had been in Pisticci SCALO – we think it must mean ‘New Town’ and had by-passed the ancient hilltop town, which probably saw numerous tourist coaches.
ALIANO – LAST DISCOVERY IN BASILICATA
It was with sadness that we returned to base that evening. Our stay in Basilicata was at an end. We had grown to love the region – and that love is with us still. The next day (3rd November) would be taken up with packing and checking the car over for our next long leg – down to the ferry, and then exploring Sicilia (Sicily).
It was mid-morning by the time we retraced our way back through the ravine to start exploring the Sassi. The day had become rather warm, and so were we after climbing up through the narrow alleyways and steps until reaching the ‘Teardrop’ in the Piazzetta Pascoli on the Via D Ridola. It was a large Bronze sculpture in front of the Museum of National Medieval and Modern Art – Palazzo Lanfranchi. This is where I knew we’d find good coffee and ciabatta – not that I’ve ever had bad coffee in Italy. Leaving as we did before 7.00am we’d had nothing more than an espresso and a couple of biscuits, and the bottles of water we’d carried with us.
Steps down into the Sasso Caveoso
EXPLORING THE SASSI CAVEOSO
After a little rest we started off again, towards the really ruinous section of the Sasso Caveoso. The Museum was a good place to start to explore this area. To the right side of the building is a railed terrace overlooking the Sasso, and from there a set of steps led down into cool, meandering passageways.
Meandering passageways
It wasn’t long before we had passed from the restored part of the city, where the buildings were actually lived in, or used for holiday lets. Now we found ourselves in the more interesting untouched part, because we could glimpse at how these buildings were constructed, and how most were facades in front of rough-hewn caves.
Some of the paths we walked on were the actual roofs of buildings below us. There was one building that had partially collapsed, showing that the interior ceiling was made of a stone arch, which had supported the pavement on top.
A Ruin
The further from the centre we went the more degraded the buildings became, with some areas completely roped off. There was an arrow pointing to the Convicinio S Antonio. After a gentle climb we came upon an elegant portal with an arch that led into a rectangular courtyard, onto which four rock-churches faced. Unfortunately, the gate was closed. We had to satisfy ourselves with reading a notice, and peering through the barred gate. Later I Googled the Convent, because we were both intrigued by its age, and how well-cared for it looked amongst the ruins.
EXPLORING THE SASSI’S CHURCHES
Convent GateConvent courtyard
The first church after the entrance arch was once known as the ‘Chiesa di San Primo’, but is now commonly referred to as the Church of the TEMPE CADUTE after the name given to the entire district, which was continually at the mercy of rock falls.
An opening on the left leads to the Church of Sant’Eligio. Next to it, also known as the Annunziata, is the Crypt of Sant’Eligio. The crypt is dedicated to SANT’ELIGIO, who is regarded as the guardian saint of domestic animals. He was much venerated in the past by peasant and agrarian communities such as the Materani. The peasants, shepherds and herdsmen used to bring their mules, horses and oxen into the piazzetta at crack of dawn on 1st December, his feast day. They would entreat his protection for their lifeline – their animals – as they circled the column with its statue of St. Eligio that stands in the square, by the church.
Then there are the Crypt of San Donato & the Crypt of St. Anthonioy. There was a huge amount of information to be had, so I’ve left a link. It’s worth looking at this site before you visit the convent. Unfortunately, we went back twice while we were staying there and never found it open – and could not find out who to contact to get a visit.
I also recommend that you Google images of the convent.
A FEW MORE IMAGES OF THE RUINS IN THE SASSO CAVEOSO
A once humble dwellingDoorway in the living rockMeandering passageways
WORLD’S BEST ICE CREAM
It was early afternoon when I drove Vivien drove back to the farm and disturbed Jackie on her day off. To be honest, she was pleased to see us, as she’d spent it catching up on laundry and general cleaning of the flat. When I suggested going back to Matera to stroll around the top part of the city – and especially when ice cream was mentioned, there was no contest. We had a quick clean up and then all clambered into the Golf and trundled back to Matera for that stroll and ice cream.
I actually chanced my arm and found a parking place on the Via D Ridola just behind the Museo Lanfranchi. It is so much easier when you have a Disabled blue badge.
On the Ridola we bought our ice creams from a popular Gelato, reckoned by many to be one of the best in Italy: Il Vizi Degli Angeli Laboratorio di Gelateria Artisanale. Jackie urged Vivien to try the fresh fig variety, which we so far do not get to taste in England (I don’t know about London, but it’s not obtainable in our neck of the woods.) She enthused about i,t just as we had. With them in hand, we licked and strolled through the streets full of interesting little shops, and the two elegant but still historic piazzas at the top of the Sassi. There we could look out over the alleyways and stairs we had explored in the morning, and also window-shop.
Via D Ridola
WORLDLY ELEGANCE
At the Piazza Vittbrio Vento we sat on a sunbaked wall to rest our feet and people-watch. The place was a swarm of activity. There was a wedding party posing for photographs nearby, (because at this particular spot there was a balcony with a spectacular view over the Sasso Barisano with the Cathedral on the skyline). Visitors made way for the bride and groom to pose by the low railing, and then for their party as well. We were all riveted, staring at one young woman who looked particularly striking in pants striped yellow and red, topped by a lime-green bolero jacket. She had a most elegant haircut. (Jackie was convinced I would have a photo of her. I don’t know why…)
Sunset over the Sassi
Maybe she was a professional model; she was certainly the most eye-catching woman in the Piazza, and we all agreed ‘she knew it, too.’
AS DARKNESS FALLS –
TUMMIES RUMBLE
As the sun turned a hot red and sank in the sky, we watched as dusk laid its clocked hand over the city, and one by one, lights in the Sassi twinkled on. It was only when I voiced that I was hungry that we all realised we’d not really eaten much all day. And at ‘Let’s go to Peppino’s’, Vivien was heard to say ‘Who’s Peppino?’
Half an hour later we were in Miglionico, sitting in Peppino’s dining room, almost dribbling from the smells coming from his kitchen. Vivien was looking around her so I told her ‘Don’t worry, there is no menu.’
I can’t remember what was served, only to say that nothing was left on our plates. Peppino’s bountiful, simple, quality fare seemed a fitting end to our day finding out about the harsh life that had been lived by peasants, where they made best use of the very basic food they could produce by their own efforts.
Before Vivien’s flight back to the UK on 12th October I insisted that she and Graham have a day to themselves where they could explore Matera further. Much as I longed to go into and around that ancient troglodyte city I knew that all those steps and slopes would defeat me.
Besides – they would also be able to explore the River Gravina and the other side of the gorge, where the early cave dwellings and very early Christian cave churches were. (The frescoes in these are especially precious.) To reach them they’d have to take numerous steps down to one of those swaying rope-type bridges that are slung from side to side.
I shuddered from the mere thought of it, even if I could have managed to get down there (and more importantly, up again.) I have no head for heights. (So from now on Graham will write this post.)
EARLY MORNING START TO CATCH MATERA AT SUNRISE
Hi- Graham here, with my account –
I wanted to see Matera at sunrise so we left the Masseria Mazzapede while it was still dark. Though wanting to get to Matera as soon as we could, I drove slowly down the rocky track. The sky was quickly lightening in the east, and the outline of Matera stood out in black silhouette on the high hill in front of us as we sped down the almost empty Strada Statala 7 (the fast road in). My hope was to be at the top of the ravine when the sun broke over the far hill, so that we could watch the light chase the shadows out of the Sassi as it climbed free of the land. I had once seen a film of this happening, and the colours of the Sassi being revealed as the light became more intense was something I wanted to witness at first hand.
I parked up on Via Santo Stefano, close to the junction that took us down into the Sassi. Be warned; unless you can read the ‘Zona Traffico Limitato’ signs properly, don’t disregard them. The Sassi is one of the areas in Matera that is regulated by them. We have twice in Italy unwittingly crossed such boundaries – once only by yards. On each occasion we were shocked when we received large bills (over £100 sterling) through the post a full year after returning home.
WE WEREN’T DISAPPOINTED
Catching the early Sun in Matera
A little disappointed that the sun had already shaken off its earthly shackles, Vivien and I started down into the Sassi. As we came up to the Convent of Saint Agostino we had a clear view over the Sasso Barisano to the Cattedrale di Maria Santissima della Bruna. It stood on a high central spine of the ravine that split the Sassi in two, the other half being called Sasso Caveoso.
We were lucky, for although the cathedral was already lit up by the lemony light of sunrise, sharply golden against a cloudless, pale sky, the sun had yet to wash the shadows out of the more secret places of the Sasso Barisano. As we stood there the light seemed to run like water over the old stones of the city, washing the grey tomb of early dawn to transform it into a live, magical city of dreams. Even the birds, hitherto silent, gave voice in a surrounding, resounding chorus. The whole glorious transformation took less than a minute, leaving us speechless. We carried on silently, down to the entry point into the ravine itself, at a car park on the Via Madonna delle Virtù.
Going down into the Ravine
DOWN THROUGH COOLNESS TO A SURPRISE
It is a well-worn track that leads to the bottom of the ravine, where the Gravina di Matera runs through it. I advise at least stout trainers or walking shoes. I was wearing sandals, and if I should go again I’d wear something more supportive. Though it is neither the steepest, nor deepest gorge I’ve been in – you still need to be moderately fit.
Shrine amongst the Rocks
As the track snaked down we were able to see more of it than peering over from the top. In places it was honeycombed with caves, and on the far side, in what seemed an inaccessible location, stood what looked to be a shrine in front of some caves. There are many cave churches in the ravine, and we were hoping to explore at least one.
It took us about ten minutes to reach the river and although it wasn’t that deep, it was flowing pretty swiftly. From the signs on both sides of the banks we learned that the Gravina could become a raging torrent.
The Gravina
We were standing there gazing at the swirling water when movement on the far bank caught our attention. Would you believe it? Right in front of us, no more than thirty feet away, trotting in crocodile fashion, came a line of five wild boar. Presumably the two bulkier and darker-coated were adults. They were followed by five smaller, lighter coated, showing dark spots on their backs – obviously their offspring. Bringing up the rear, the runt scrabbled along to keep up.
When talking about these creatures Giuseppe had said that the chance of seeing one was very rare, as they were extremely shy and kept away from habitation. They evidently hadn’t seen us or reckoned us as a threat, because they didn’t hasten their speed as they came adjacent to where we were standing. We deduced they were taking a well worn, if very narrow track that wove around large rocks and bushes. Finally, not slackening their pace and following the leader, they climbed a steep little bank and disappeared upstream amongst the undergrowth. As it turned out from the sign on our side of the river, we were to go the same way. In the distance we could make out a flimsy looking suspension bridge.
Vivien and I glanced at each other, having the same thought. We both then came to the same conclusion.
‘They’ll be long gone by the time we get there.’
The Suspension Bridge
THE WATER RUSHING 30 FEET BELOW US
The Walls of the Ravine
The bridge, when we reached it, was a much more substantial job than seen from a distance. Even so, it was single passage only. To put minds at rest – even Jackie could have made it across, and she hates heights and anything that feels the slightest bit unstable. The two base cables were anchored to large concrete blocks that had been sunk into the bedrock. From each concrete block stood two thick concrete pillars about 4.5ft high. The top cables anchored to the back of the concrete block ran over the top of the pillars and were parallel with the base cables for the entire length of the bridge. Attached to top and bottom cables was a steel woven mesh, so fine that only a small child could put their hand through. The gangway itself was probably no more than 1.5-2 ft across, and made of thick narrow boards, maybe 6-8 inches wide, (There is no appreciable gap to look down between them.) This allows the bridge to flex, and not become too stiff.
Like all rope bridges there is a slight up-and-down movement with every step, and also swaying; but if you walk in a gentle, smooth way and not jerkily, the movement is not alarming. For people like my wife Jackie, these bridges are safe if they are kept up – and it’s worth the knee tremble. (Sez you, Darling – Jackie).
By the time we had crossed the bridge the sun was fully up, though deep down in the ravine it was still shady and cool. The climb up the other side to the top took half an hour, allowing a couple of five minute breathers, but once on top it was worth the climb. The whole of the Sassi was spread out before us in the early morning light and we were all alone.
The Sasso Barisano
THE CITY OF STONES
Vivien gazes at the Sasso Caveoso
The Sassi has two very distinctive areas, with the Cathedral and its Duomo Piazza being the most prominent feature that separated the Sasso Barisano from the Sasso Caveoso. What was also very evident was that the Barisano was in a better state of renovated repair. The further left we looked in the Caveoso section the more tumbledown and ruinous it became. At the party Giuseppe had taken us to when we had just arrived I had met a couple who worked in Matera’s tourism department. They had mentioned that a section of the Sassi, instead of being handed over to be cleaned up, would be conserved and kept as it was so that future generations would know how the Sassi had been when known as ‘The Shame of Italy’- and so that sad end to a once-proud history was not altogether lost and completely prettified as was fast happening to the rest of the Sassi.
Now, looking from our vantage point, I mentioned this to Vivien – and we both agreed that it was a wise decision.
The unrestored part of the Sasso Caveoso
Later, when studying a map of the area where we were standing, I found it was called Parco Murgia Timone, and that within two hours it would be full of coaches and hundreds of tourists. We stopped at four of the cave churches while we were there. Unfortunately, they were all locked, and although we tried to peer inside we could not see the famous frescoes that adorned some of the walls. We stood just above St Vito alla Murgia and I endeavoured to take a series of pictures of the Sassi that I could later stitch together. It wasn’t altogether successful, so I have not included them here.
