It
is not until you travel through Italy that you
realise what a diverse and complex country this
is. In truth it is not a country at all but a
collection of sovereign states that had little
choice but to unite after Napoleon’s successful
invasion of the land. The north still represent
the rich and fertile soil that gave the country
its name (Italia was in use by 500BC and derives
from the tribal word for ‘calf’) while
the south still feels it has had the rough end
of the deal.
Having finished a week of parties, hellos and
goodbyes for friends and family, we were able
to breathe a collective sigh and embark on our
Honeymoon. We had decided to travel down through
Italy, via train from Barga to Rome and then by
air to Sicily and the second largest of the Aeolian
Islands, Salina. Having spent all our time in
the north of the country we hoped this would introduce
us to that which remained; the mysteries of the
ancient capital and the rugged beauty of the volcanic
islands.
The pair of us have always been methodical and
organised when it comes to travelling, perhaps
due to the fact we had so much to do this summer
we somehow managed to overlook a few essentials
with regards our trip. For one, we had not booked
any seats on the train to Rome, figuring that
during August Italians left the city and escaped
to the coast. What we didn’t count on was
that the hottest months bring to the country literally
millions of tourists and the majority of them
use the good rail links between cities such as
Florence and Rome as a way of visiting the country.
We reminded ourselves of this sitting on the floor
of the train just outside a rather ripe toilet
as we sped through (I imagine, as I could not
see) the beautiful countryside of Tuscany and
Lazio.
Our
second miscalculation was the fact that while
we had flights to Sicily booked we had not gone
so far as to arrange passage on a boat to the
island of Salina. In truth this was not our fault
as we had attempted to ring them but either the
line was disconnected or they could not help us
at this time. Only when we turned up at the port
in Palermo did we manage to secure our tickets.
In a scene reminiscent of the wayward couple in
the film Casablanca we entered a dimly lit office
and after our papers were checked and the exchange
of several large domination notes did we receive
our ‘exit visas’.
Rome is a magnificent city, smaller than its romantic
rival Paris which makes it more accessible, user
friendly and human. I had been informed that similar
to Paris and other large capital cities the Romans
could be a little less than interested in you
and tended to show their contempt for anyone other
than other Romans. But I found them most accommodating
and more than willing to put up with my poor language
skills.
I
had also been told that Roman food was not really
of the same quality as that available in Tuscany
and tended to consist of speciality offal dishes;
brains, guts, spleen, lungs and intestines all
lightly fried with pasta (at least in the UK we
process such meats until they are unrecognisable
and hide it in pastry), plus they charge ridiculous
amounts for these unsavoury delights. Perhaps
we were lucky but the food was of an excellent
quality and like any city the cost was dependent
on the premises you visited.
One of the reasons we were visiting Rome was that
I had been fortunate enough to gain access to
the Necropolis – a pre-Christianity tomb
complex under the Vatican that was reputed to
contain the bones of St. Peter. I have always
been fascinated with what lies under a city, the
arteries and veins that keep a metropolis running,
the remnants of those peoples who came before
us and the closed off secrets hidden in basements
and grottoes. The Necropolis is a reminder that
dynasties, religions and beliefs come and go and
that nothing in this world lasts forever.
Salina
was a different experience altogether. The island
is beautiful in a rugged and undeveloped way and
not that easy to get to. The hotel we stayed in
was the sort that holiday brochures use on the
front cover in glorious Technicolor, the swimming
pool shimmering in the sunlight with the azure
seas and lush green foliage in the background.
But for me the criticisms that people had about
Rome was probably more apt about the inhabitants
of Salina and Sicily. They are not the most hospitable
or charming people I have ever met; perhaps because
it was August they wanted to be on holiday and
resented anyone else who was. The food also leaves
something to be desired. It was expensive and
most of the pasta dishes were dry and unappetising.
I like capers and anchovies, but not on everything
I eat.
It’s
the differences that you note the most, the Italians
in Rome were more sure of themselves, more urbane
and sophisticated from living in a large city
but at the same time they seemed uninspired by
what that city had to offer, antiquities got in
the way of modernising the city and the tourists
merely clogged the roads and made them late for
work. The Italians of Salina spoke in a dialect
that was impossible to understand and every small
act was an effort that they did not wish to enter
into, but they were proud of their island and
what it had to offer.
Next month: Quiet time in Tuscany.
Adam J. Shardlow is a writer now living in Barga
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