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Montecassino Abbey
The abbey itself was destroyed in the war but, thanks to detailed plans carefully filed away in the vaults of the Vatican, it was possible to rebuild it in its original form. Today it has an air of permanence that makes it difficult to believe it has not stood there for untroubled centuries. In reality, it stands guard over the numerous cemeteries that bear silent witness to its defence. And how pleasant to put this past behind you after you ascend the sloping, cobbled entrance passage and emerge in the grassy Entrance Cloister and see peace perfectly represented by the doves on the bird bath.
The Basilica itself was the most memorable of these at Montecassino. So elegant, so well-proportioned, so perfect. And while my camera failed to record this, the recommended Abbey's web site will depict this for you in all its glory. From the 'Plan of the Abbey' page you can visit anywhere you like. Don't miss this treat! It was a place I shall not easily forget. It had a museum and a shop, but it is simply its deep and reverent tranquility that I would recommend. Take the time out for that if you visit. And note how well monks do their housework! In the equivalent of a castle, with all the scope for stone dust, dirt dust, and visitor dust, a battalion of cleaners could hardly have achieved a better job at making it appear pristine: whether you are inside or outside its buildings. Once you have drunk from this cup of peace, make sure you're wide awake before the steep descent back down the mountain. And don't forget to pay your respects at the appropriate cemetery. There are plenty of road signs to assist you in this aim. SorrentoYou will have heard about the 'seagulls over Sorrento', of course. The trouble is, so have the locals: so they got out their little guns and popped them all. Regretfully, as in certain other European countries that shall be nameless on this page (if not on others), killing birds is apparently a great pastime here. And I'm not just talking seagulls, my friends. If you can spot any birds hereabouts they're probably in a cage. Such a pity! Not that I have any particular devotion to seagulls as such, you understand, but I do believe in the principle of allowing God's little creatures to live when they don't do you any harm. The presence of birds enhances a place so much. I wonder if the Montecassino doves realise how sensible it is to stay within the confines of the abbey? Monks, thankfully, only shoot prayers.
So I returned to my room where H was suspiciously surveying the window blind. You know the kind: the ones that rattle up and down on the outside of the window to offer sun protection: and to ease you into a truly dark siesta. Our previous hotel had the same mechanism and, in my ignorance, I had struggled with that. How did you get it up? Forcing the bars upward merely causes them to spring down again towards vulnerable toes. After a while with my first encounter with these blinds, I did discover you pull on a camouflaged band nearby and this, with all the precision of an old pair of braces, could be used to wind the blind up. I had also learned that there was a release mechanism such that if you pulled the lower part of the band in a particular way, the blind would rattle back into its closed position. So I tried my newly-learned skills on this blind. It would not budge. So it took my countless years of DIY skills to eventually release the mechanism from what turned out to me a jammed condition. Then we were in business - until the next time is was wound up and jammed again! Next the TV. I do like the world news, best station of all and, generally, the only one in English. Roy Boy had already warned us that efforts to upgrade the hotel to a superbly luxurious condition had meant, for a few months past, that the TV would not work. But it would be good one day, he assured us. I was able to get it to work to some degree, and through regular snow, we were able to get some idea of what else was happening in the world. Then dinner. Amazing. Even in this hotel they had not discovered the vegetable! Now I am reliably informed that Italians think of little else but their next meal. That's what the siesta is for: to dream of the next meal. I am also reliably informed that you can get a wonderful selection of food in Italian hotels, so why is it that none of the ones we stayed in had discovered the vegetabl?. (Okay, I admit, I did spot the odd pea and tomato snipped in the Fiuggi hotel.) But of one thing I can assure you. There is no shortage of pasta in Italy. Great if you like it - and don't tire easily. Tough if you do! After the meal H and I wandered hopefully across to the photo shop. The shutters were still firmly down, yet siesta was clearly over. Back to reception. There was a very good watchmaker down the main street near the cathedral. The old man could fix anything. Perhaps he could fix my jammed winder mechanism. So off we set. Shop found. Shutter down. Next door chemist uncertain as to whether he would open because, shrug, he was old. So then we explored the night-time Sorrento, looping back and forth around what I later discovered they called the 'drains'. Now I would call them passages or lanes, but they call them drains. I hoped it did not rain in case the meaning clarified.
Sorrento offers countless places to eat and drink, in the drains, in the town square, everywhere. I was also able to purchase a Fun Camera: one of those 'use once and say farewell' jobs. The plan was to visit Pompeii the following day - an ambition I had taken a long while to achieve - and the risk of arriving there without a camera did not bear thinking about. Anyway, what would you think of me if I didn't offer pictures of that? So I bought a bog-ordinary Fun Camera plus a Flashing Fun Camera (or some such name). No expense spared for you, you see, my friends. At this stage, however, I did fondly regard these as emergency back-up, for I was determined to get my own camera working again. It was making this strange clicking noise when it should have been winding the film on. Sounded a bit untrustworthy, if you know what I mean. So once again we detoured past the old watchmaker's shop that first evening - siesta not broken - and then hopefully back to the wonderful photo shop opposite the hotel - siesta not broken - just my camera still! H and I took a carriage ride from the town square which was quite delightful. Slow progress around a part of the town we were not familiar with was most enjoyable, and our driver was very informative - and kind, for he even sported a rug beneath his straps to lesson the burden. (His horse was well looked-after as well.) It was from him we learned that it was not a good idea to pick and eat the fruit of the orange trees at the side of the street. Fine for marmalade, but a touch sharp for a snack, apparently. Talking of places to drink, you might care to try the local speciality: limoncello. All around these parts you will find lemon and orange groves and they have to do something with all that fruit. Since there's no great demand for' lemonlade' (have I got that right?), they make a bright yellow drink known as limoncello from their lemons - and other best-kept-secret ingredients. The latter must be very necessary for rather than chilling this drink, you freeze it! I kid you not! The best way to enjoy this drink it to keep your bottle of it in your freezer, along with small shot-glasses, and then pour the frozen liquid into the frozen glasses and gulp-glug-freeze. Now I'm not saying that an essential ingredient is anti-freeze - yet how else would this work? - but I would say that given its potential for use as antifreeze, should it ever get that cold in Sorrento there will be no shortage of supply. Then even car radiators may radiate rude health! This drink is quite tasty when you get used to it. Granted, it might make your ignition falter a bit at first, but through regular practice, I am reliably informed by Roy Boy, you can learn to fire on all cylinders and get to really appreciate this local delicacy. Why not take a bottle home to knock the socks off your friends? (Just practice without socks at first.) In fact, I challenge you not to visit Sorrento without risking your socks on this. It's all part of the 'Sorrento experience' after all.
The Isle of CapriI'm always up for a boat trip, so Capri sounded a good idea. And Roy Boy had an excellent guide lined up for us for this trip, a charming lady who managed to hold her own quite well against Roy's friendly banter. She also held a good umbrella. We traveled out on a hydrofoil - or some such contraption that took many people there quite fast, in a flurry of waves, diesel fumes and bluster. Walking in this vessel was challenging. Some gave up. Not that it was rough, you understand, merely that the craft had a strong empathy for the sea. And it got there in little more than half-an-hour.
Now the Isle of Capri has the reputation for beautiful people, is appropriately expensive, and is even beautiful in itself. It also has a beautifully temperate climate all year round, this an added bonus to its natural, old-world, island charm. All this is accentuated by its quaint little byways. It's expensive here because they have to take a year's income in far fewer than 12 months. (It also helps to have a lot of rich people living or staying there, I guess.) One of its main claims to fame - at least to Brit's - is that it became the home of Gracie Fields, that war-time singer with a voice that, at times, was somewhat reminiscent of an air-raid siren. Not, of course, that I am old enough to remember an air-raid siren, but I have heard both and the comparison is worth noting. On the way up one of the twisting little roads, we passed the cemetery that contains the grave of 'Our Gracie' - you can actually see it from the road through a gate set in tall, stone walls - and, apparently, fresh flowers are placed on her grave every single day. A good contract, for sure. I am informed that a great friend of hers was the mother of Elton John and that the fresh-flower idea was hers. Dear Elton finances this, apparently, and I guess this will not make any great dent in his ever-expanding wallet: although such kindness is more difficult to find than florists to fulfil the wish.
While up an Anacapri you can even take a cable car ride to the top of the mountain. When I was there it was rather too cloudy so we gave it a miss in favour of walking to the little church that contains a fantastic mosaic floor depicting Adam and Eve. This is the size of the entire church - now a museum. So revered is the mosaic that you are required to circumnavigate its edges on a series of narrow, suspended planks. Don't panic if you have no head for heights, for they are only suspended about 15cm above the floor, but this system does mean that your progress is only as fast as the slowest visitor. But that's not a bad thing, for this floor deserves pondering - even teetering - upon.
The Roman emperors, Augustus and Tiberius, both built villas on the Isle of Capri. Like moderns celebrities, they found its remoteness from the mainland gave them a safe haven. Tiberius built Villa Damecuta at Anacapri as his summer residence, but his grandest home there was Villa Jovis. The ruins of this huge villa on the north-east point of the island can be reached on foot from the town square. It originally comprised some 300 rooms occupying an area of over 7,000 square metres and included baths, gardens, terraces, avenues, ornamental fountains, pools, and immense cisterns to collect rainwater, then the only source of potable water on this island. While some might query some of the strange habits Tiberius had, and it is well documented that he could be very cruel, his military and political aptitudes were never in question. For virtually the last 10 years of his life (AD 27 - 37), he ruled over the immense Roman Empire from here. You will recall that, on my Rome page, I drew attention to the amazing abilities of roman emperors to control huge geographic areas: thanks to good roads! Yet today, a modern American President and an equally certain (and deluded) British Prime Minister, struggle to control a remote and poorly armed occupied country such as Iraq, despite their massively superior forces, firepower, aerial weapon and logistics support, plus modern communication systems employing everything from copper wire that cradles the globe, through radio, to satellites. To fully appreciate this, consider this fact. Tiberius achieved greater control for these 10 years, with little more than messengers and 'bush telegraph' - literally fire and smoke signal chains - his best communication with the political centre at Rome and his shore-based forces. It is enough to make a modern president blush. (But maybe that's not possible!) One of the methods Tiberius used to command a lot of personal respect was to torture his enemies on Capri and then force them to make the 300-metre leap over the cliff from Villa Jovis into the sea. Mostly they left without saying goodbye. Like I said, he was a forceful kind of chap. The trip back to the mainland was by ferry. Surprisingly this vessel, although large, had even more empathy for the sea which, by now, was heaving. (We had to leave an hour before the plan because this was the last ferry due to the sea condition.) It took a lot longer, but then it did travel much further: mainly in a vertical direction. It had a cavernous interior with passenger seats set a great distant apart from this area, large enough to dance in: although such a challenge would be altogether too difficult to achieve, given that merely crossing it proved difficult enough. A fellow passenger complained about how dirty the windows were before we set off. Why didn't the lazy whatnots ever wash it? Then we were at sea and it became plain that the lazy whatnots never needed to wash it. Although well above the plimsol line, the sea washed it very adequately on this trip, that was for certain. It was just a touch disconcerting that we often seemed to be looking up at the waves. The Amalfi Drive
So narrow is the Amalfi Drive, and so devoid of parking space is Amalfi, that buses need to book a time-slot to visit, and during peak seasons a one-way system operates to prevent tour buses from returning towards Sorrento along the Amalfi Drive. (When I visited, in November, this did not apply and the Drive was enjoyed in both directions.) It is worth noting that not all tour companies pay to book a slot and, if they don't, you can expect an arduous walk down - and then back up - from a drop-off point well out of the centre of town. Not to be recommended! Worth checking out, even.
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