Alberobello - Mysterious Trulli Dwellings

We have spent this morning visiting museums, watching videos and talking to locals... trying to figure out why Alberobello builds houses in the weird shapes they call Trulli... and why no other town bothers. A picture is starting to emerge that may explain part of the mystery. Everest ing always starts with the geology. Alberobello is built on limestone rock. For reasons unknown, the rock has flaked off the subterranean layer in thin (relatively) slatey layer. Farmers plowing their lime wash ds sh sh have been bringing to the surface these bricks of limestone... and cleared the plowed area by tossing the rock into the corner of the paddock. 

Eventually, one smart farmer started to build shelters for his animals and grain... others copied... designs improved... sheds got bigger... and some of the poorer farmers started to live in them. This was all dry building... just stone on stone... no mortar or other binding agent. 

Then came the political enzyme... the big man in Naples decided that there were enough villages in his domain... so out went the edict... no more villages. However, the local Counts were doing quite well from the population growth... they said, "We'd better keep new construction to dry-wall techniques, so they can be quickly demolished if the Royal Treasury does an audit of the area." The good folk of Alberobello didn't mind... they were already experts in dry-wall building techniques... rich citizens refined and expanded what their poor relatives had invented. 

The Naples big man couldn't control the force of nature... new towns continued to be established... the big man was being made to look silly... and he was missing out on taxes. He introduced a new law... pay a tax for every new house in the village. The local Counts were not too supportive of Naples' big man... the Count said to the peasants, "Don't pay the tax... we'll tell Naples that the structures are built to house the farm animals and store grain." Well Naples (and succeeding rulers) bought this story for centuries... people couldn't possibly live in these hovels... but they did. 

The next bit of history we noticed concerned Mussolini... he paid a visit to Alberobello... just before WWII... and the town dressed itself up... as best it could... some towns folk even decorated their roof with a painted white cross or a circle. Mussolini's visit was a great success ... he was particularly taken with the ancient symbolism represented by mysterious markings on the stone roofs. Since that time, many of the roofs have continued to be decorated with symbols in white limewash... that don't mean anything... but the tourists stare for hours... searching for ancient meaning. 

UNESCO gave the town world heritage listing... the town converted from a poverty stricken rural village to an international tourist site... and that is how you find it today. 

Paestum - Ancient Greece at its Best II

I am of the age when Australian youth clustered around ABC radio at 5 PM each weekday to catch each episode of the radio 'club' production of the Argonauts. Those of a similar background will remember the club song... lyrics made adventurers of every 6 year old lad... or lassie. 

Fifty mighty Argonauts bending to the oars,

Today will go adventuring to yet uncharted shores.

Fifty young adventurers today set forth and so

We cry with Jason "Man the boats, and Row! Row! Row!"

Row! Row! Merry oarsmen, Row!

That dangers lie ahead we know, we know.

But bend with all your might

As you sail into the night

And wrong will bow to right "Jason" cry,

Adventure know,

Argonauts Row! Row! Row! 

I mention Jason because we visited a site where he is supposed to have landed his boat and visited a remote Greek community colonising the coast of Italy. (It turns out that the 'merry oarsmen' were slaves driven by the lash to row for 10 hours each day... perhaps not so merry... upon what other falsehoods did the ABC radio corrupt my mind? ) 

How frequently do you need to venture outside a country to see it at its best... Australia in Gallipoli... the Brits in Antarctica... USA at D-Day. We spent a month in Greece pouring over its ancient sites and we marvelled at what has been preserved. However, our visit to Paestum, today, showed Greek relics from the 6th century BC that were better preserved than anything we saw in mainland Greece.

"How could that be", I hear you ask. The answer is Malaria. It's a gripping yarn... so bear with the history lesson and all will be revealed.

Back in C6th BC, the Greeks had technology that far outstripped its neighbours. They could row across the Aegean Ocean to Italy... enslave a few of the disorganised tribes living on the rich coastal plain... get them to grow some cereal food for you... much easier than trying to do the same job in the poor plains of Western Greece. They did this for a few decades... but found it easier to have a permanent presence. Over hundreds of years, they built a Greek town... it grew to cover 120 hectares... so probably had a population of some 10,000 people. The people built themselves at least 3 temples... that stand to this day... established thriving communities of artists, sculpturists, and a top quality ceramics industry.

Like all civilisations, it had to fight its share of battles... didn't lose many... until Rome got its military machine in order... falling to them in 273 BC. Rome liked the place and invested in maintaining the buildings of the city.

With the fall of the western Roman Empire, Paestum was eventually abandoned. Usually, the abandoned city is picked over by scavenger tribes until no stone is left standing on another. However, Paestum benefited from the malaria epidemics that plagued Europe in the middle ages. Paestum was built on coastal swampy ground. There were good mosquito breeding grounds around the abandoned city. The area earned a reputation for sickness and death... people steered well clear of the place... even the people wanting to scavenge building materials. The site was preserved. In the 19th century, Paestum became part of the Grand Tour... and was well supported with research funding...  much earlier than most other sites. 

Here is a tip for the tourists... who like kicking stones at ancient ruins but don't like battling the bus or boat crowds... come and visit Paestum.

  

Ravello - integrated Marketing Plan

The town council for Ravello wanted more of the action. It sits 365 metres above Amalfi... seven klms away... watching tourism flood Amalfi with wealth... while its rural community staggered from one financial crisis to another. 

By way of background... Ravello has had some minor brushes with celebrities... Humphrey Bogart had a wild weekend up there in the 1950's... but the biggest was that Wagner claims that one of his symphonies was inspired by a garden in Ravello. Also relevant is a fallen down Saracen castle in the middle of town. 

The Town council really picked a winning strategy... it has built the town's economy around Wagner concerts... focussed on the highbrow set... and has made Capri look rather gaudy and tasteless. The wonderful thing about Ravello is that very merchant in town seems 100% behind the town initiative. Every shop in town has a renovation that is less than 5 years old... every shop assistant seems to have polished shoes, white shirt and black slacks. Everywhere you look the town speaks in unison... highbrow... highbrow... highbrow.

They levelled out the farmers market to make a huge piazza... positioned to show the ancient church to its best effect... it built loads of car parking... the blue-rinse set won't have to get hot and sweaty walking from their limos to the theatre... and have maintained colourful gardens at every street corner.

The town council showed just how clever they are with their development of the Saracen castle. They have fashioned it as the backdrop for Wagner opera. Gardens feature once more... a huge stage has been built... projecting over the cliff with spectacular views along the Amalfi Coast... an open air design with seating hugging the cliff face.

As a backup to the main strategy, Ravello has also developed a wedding business. The church faces onto the huge piazza... room enough for wedding group shots needed for the social newspaper pages. The Saracen castle is perfect for the formal wedding shots... and the town has an ample supply of top quality villas for receptions and accommodation. 

How did the town council get every merchant to support the plan? You would think that there would be one obstinate property owner who wanted to continue with the old ways... keep the butchers business in the centre of the piazza... offer fruit and veg to the hiking tourists who walk through the town. But no... every merchant offers quality products at premium prices. Capitalism is a great invention... isn't it? 

After an expensive lunch... we walked down 365 metres in elevation to Amalfi... too many steps to count... lots of aching joints... and joined the great unwashed buying their plastic trinkets... trying on the knockoff brands of T-shirts... queuing up for another pizza. 

Italians - Battle of the Sexes

The battle of the sexes has run its course... men now have to concede equality... they put up a good fight to retain their historic privileges... but the evidence is now overwhelming... women do what they like around here. 

The dramatic change in the balance of power struck me yesterday on Capri. We saw Casa Rossa... somewhat like a 'folly'... built by an American colonial... who picked the wrong side in the war of independence... built with rare bright red stone... sporting spivy-looking battlements... see picture below. The interesting thing is that he built the villa on the site of a 16th century fort... and saved items of archaeological interest... that he displayed in his villa. The fort was used by the men of Capri for the purpose of locking up their womenfolk when work required the men to travel to Naples... across the waters ... women were items of property to be stored in safe keeping... like the house... the cart... the donkey... etc. 

On our way home, we saw the juxtaposition... that contrasts where we are today... lots of Italian couples on motorbikes where the young lady was doing the driving and the man was hanging on as pillion passenger. The Maserati revving its engine at the traffic light is just as likely to be driven by a female (blond, well tanned, white frock, big blow-wave hair). Even in the backwoods of Montepertuso (where we have our apartment)... the motorscooter traffic is largely grandma putt-putting her way up the steep hill. 

In our village, it is the men making all the noise... yelling to each other across the valley... but it is the female mafia who dispense the money... set the job lists and give the rewards. 

There appears to be only one bastion of male exclusiveness remaining... bus drivers on the mountain run! 

Capri - We went to be Noticed

In recent times, we have been noticing a growing trend... waiters are not rushing us through to a seat in the dress-circle... restaurant patrons are not standing in their seats as we pass to inquire as to our health... we are not having our photos shown on the picture board of restaurants and coffee houses... in social exchanges, people are not laughing loud enough at our humour. In short, we are not being noticed. Something had to be done... we upped the anti... we went to Capri... with the sole purpose of being noticed.

The experience was not a happy one. We tried all our well-practiced techniques... talking loudly... lingering at the shop window of the most expensive jeweller in town... Joye holding her ring-finger up to compare the size of her trinkets with those on display in the shop window... repeated use of 'darling' and 'my good man' when transacting with merchants... nothing seemed to work. The basic problem was that everyone else on the street was so busy trying to get noticed... they didn't have time to notice us! Even though Capri provided good touring entertainment, we left with a melancholy feeling... somehow Capri rejected our advances... it failed to notice us.

She was as sweet as a rose at the dawning
But somehow fate hadn't meant her for me
And though I sailed with the tide in the morning
Still my heart's on the Isle of Capri.

We took some heart in learning of some previous visitors who came with the intention of not being noticed. Of course, I refer to our favourite Roman emperor, Tiberius. We walked around to Villa Jovis (dedicated to the god, Jupiter) that Tiberius built so he could pursue illicit pleasures away from the prying eyes of the Roman Senate. In fact he had a villa on Capri for each of the prime Roman gods... 12 in all... probably to have a replacement venue when the neighbours complained of terrifying noises in the dead of night. He must have been pleased with the villa... for the last 10 years of his life, he ruled the Roman empire from Villa Jovis... and lived to the remarkable age of 77... twice the usual life expectancy for that time... making up for the short life expectancy of those people working closely with him. We discovered that Villa Jovis was huge... covering close to 6,000 square meters. The architecture was first class... making good use of promenades around the high cliff face. 

I wonder if Tiberius indulged his darker side because, on the occasion of his first visit to Capri, he failed to be noticed... I know from personal experience... it's a soul destroying experience. 

Pompeii - What have we Learned

We spent today at Pompeii... just a stone's throw from Mt Vesuvius... where 20,000 citizens lost their lives in 75 AD. We all know the story of Pompeii ... just at sunrise, citizens were awoken by a thunderous bang... "What was that", they asked and looked up to see a mushroom cloud circling Mt Vesuvius... "Lucky it wasn't an earthquake"... the town had been flattened by an earthquake 90 years previously. They hurried to get dressed just as big lumps of ash started to fall... they had a terrifying 10 minutes of bombardment... scared the life out of them... but not too much damage. "Thank goodness that's over." Some started to run... some sought shelter in their homes... it didn't matter much what they did... taking a couple of breaths of intense ash didn't do their lungs much good... they sank to their knees and perished... buried under 4-6 metres of very fine ash. 

There are few recommended ways of leaving this mortal coil... but if you want eternal recognition, suffocating under 4 metres of volcanic ash is probably one of the better ways. As these citizens died, the ultra-fine ash dust packed in tightly around them... getting into the crevasses of their skin... into their ears... into their hair... it was as if they had been set into a plaster cast. Over 2,000 years their flesh and bones disappeared leaving a void where their bodies had been. The archaeologists discovering the site were very clever... they poured plaster of paris into the voids... and when they carefully chipped away the ash-rock... they were left with amazingly clear representations of what Pompeii residents looked like in 75 AD... they looked very scared... and who can blame them.

Pompeii is on the 'A List' of world tourist spots... many of you have been there. Were you surprised at the size of the site? Were you surprised at the high standard of town planning? Were you surprised by the high quality of the dwellings? There were houses used for food preparation and retailing... but we found no examples of goods manufacturing (other than food). Where were the blacksmiths... the horse stables... the carpenters? Where did the road labourers live... the water authority workers... garbage collectors... wood suppliers? Did all the service provider workers live outside the city... and commute in each day... was the city reserved for the upper classes... and their domestic slaves? Have you figured out these issues? 

What has the world learned from Pompeii? Not much... if you observe the population now settled around Mt Vesuvius! Some scientists have estimated that most of the 3 million people now living within striking range... would feel decidedly ill if Mt Vesuvius was to repeat its 79 AD performance. Could it actually do a repeat performance? Many scientists say "yes". It has a very long history of bad behaviour. In recent times, it has continued to spit and swear within clear hearing. This bad boy is a recidivist showing no sign of reform. 

Amalfi - Slow Motion - Duco on Rock

Notice to self... decline invitations to participate in motor vehicle insurance arrangements covering Amalfi drivers. I know I have been carrying on like a cut snake with all this commenting on Italian drivers. Nonetheless, the drivers are by far the most interesting feature of the Amalfi Coast. 

This afternoon we saw good luck finally run out. We were returning on the Montepertuso bus after an enjoyable lunch in Positano. There was nothing special about driving conditions... clear sunny skies... traffic volumes heavier than lead... overcrowded bus... pretty normal really. Getting out of Positano, the bus had its usual share of close misses... millimetres... not centimetres... just as usual. But halfway up the mountain we had two circumstances where car drivers had to (knowingly) drive their cars against rock walls... and scrape their duco paintwork. 

The circumstances of both accidents were similar. The road was one-car width going around a sharp corner. Our bus was on the outside of the curve... the driver blasted the horn to forewarn oncoming traffic. The oncoming driver either didn't hear or tried to bluff his way through. Our bus stopped and waited for the car to reverse... the car driver mustn't have known the car had a reverse gear and kept moving forward. The bus driver thought that the car driver was confident of getting through... so moved the bus forward a little bit. Both vehicles become jammed! It would take a coordinated decision to resolve the issue... the drivers couldn't talk with each other... so everyone observed a minutes' silence. In both cases, the car driver blinked first... edged his car forward and enjoyed the crunchy... squeaky sound of metal on rock. 

These buses on the mountain run go up and down more frequently than a bride's nightie. They make a dozen trips a day. They must experience slow motion car wrecking on a daily basis. 

My theory is that people who live in mountain villages (such as Montepertuso) do not drive their cars on a daily basis... it is too dangerous. Locals who must make a daily trip either own a motorbike or take the bus. All these cars parked in the village are there for emergencies or to go away on holidays. Evidence supporting my theory is twofold. 

The layer of settled dust on the roof of the parked cars is deep... six-months deep. 

Since we arrived, my car had only been 75% legally parked... its nose extending into a no-parking zone. At 7 AM this morning, I looked out and noticed the spot immediately behind me was vacant. Postponing shower and breakfast, I hurried down to move my car back a few inches to avoid possible parking fines. No sooner had I started the engine than ladies from two houses emerged to help me. My plan of moving back just a few inches was quickly jettisoned in favour of the ladies' plan to move right back... so that the car that had exited could park there again. 

Discovering the different values in different communities is what travel is all about! 

The Amalfi Scrum - Who Owns the TV Rights to Broadcast?

... Just figured out why Italians live on the Amalfi Coast... it is not as you may imagine... no... it is not to enjoy the beautiful scenery... nor the quaint village life... nor the great climate... delicious food... mysterious history... it is not for any of these reasons.  People live here to save entry fees on amusement park rides!

This morning, we caught the bus from our apartment in Montepertuso down to Positano and paid €1.70 for the ticket. Now I know for a fact that Montezuma's Revenge (the best selling roll-a-coaster ride at Knotsberry Farm Amusement Park) costs more than $10...more than five times the cost of the bus ticket... and the bus trip delivered twice the thrill. Italian kids would refuse to ride on Montezuma's Revenge... what would be the point? Their parents would save a fortune in entry fees.The bus was packed... for a moment I thought that I should offer my seat to one of the nice ladies standing in the aisle... but that thought disappeared as we raced around the first bend... if this bus is going over the 1,000 foot precipice, I wanted the luxury of a full view out the window. 

Positano was a delight. Every available flower box and garden bed had Bougainvillia in full colour... deep purple... that lifted the appearance of the whole village. Jodie claims that Amalfi is the prettiest spot on earth... so we jumped aboard a ferry and checked it out. Nice... very nice... a toss up with Positano as to which is prettier. What was not pretty was our boarding the bus to exit Amalfi back to Positano. We had been warned of the Amalfi bus scrum... but thought the lady telling us must have been exaggerating... not a bit. 

Here is how it works. There are a number of empty buses queued up... any one of which could be the next bus to Positano. Passengers enquire of the drivers which is the next bus to Positano... and are curtly told to wait until the sign is shown. The crowd of passengers grows... it becomes clear not all will fit into the next bus. At the scheduled departure time, the Positano sign is shown on a bus... the door is open... the crowd runs flat-out towards the door. There are no courtesies shown by passengers. It is a full blown rugby scrum. I was fortunate to remember some schoolboy scrummaging techniques... keep the shoulders level with the hips... straighten the knees to full extension... modulate the push rather than apply constant pressure. Fortunately, these techniques saw us on the bus... one last hurdle was to find a seat... I headed for the first vacancy... a big mistake. The lady in the seat in front was leaning over with her shoulder bag draped over the seat that had attracted my attention. I sat down... and in so doing, pushed her bag to one side. In a loud voice she lamented, "You touched my bag! You can't touch my bag." I apologised for touching her bag... she may have had friends in secret societies. It was interesting that she did not want to contest her right to reserve three seats for her friends... her sole defence was that I touched her bag. My friend who forewarned the terrors of the Amalfi scrum believed that the unsightly spectacle has been designed by the bus drivers... for their own amusement. If watching rugby union is amusing... then the bus drivers could be onto something. I would like to sell TV rights to the viewing of the Amalfi Scrum. 

Amalfi Coast - Laissez-Faire - the Great Italian Experiment

We drove through the outskirts of Naples today... and saw kids on motor scooters do things that OH&S rules in Australia would not even allow in a circus. We are now sitting on the balcony of our apartment in Montepertuso enjoying a spectacular view of houses clinging to the edge of a 1,000 feet drop down to the sea... one decent earth tremor will send dozens of houses into the abyss... and Mt Vesuvius (periodic active volcano) is just 50 klms away. We have seen policemen having a chat... leaning on a car parked in a fashion that breaks every parking rule in the book... with no sign of law enforcement to be seen. We see pedestrians walk into speeding traffic... turning their back on the impending risks... in the hope that the distracted driver will see them and take evasive action. 

We are tourists who flit across the landscape without understanding what is really happening. Either Australia is a nanny state that has got it terribly wrong... or Italians are paying a private price for what I see as reckless behaviour. We did see a minor accident while in Rome... a middle-aged man stepped out into traffic and was bowled over by a middle-aged bicyclist. They both got to their feet dusted themselves down and enquired as to each other's welfare... all remarkably calm. Then the pedestrian said something in Italian (we couldn't understand) that must have questioned the marital status of the bicyclist's mother at the time of his birth. The bicyclist flew into a rage... determined to finish off what the accident failed to achieve. 

What happened next was very interesting. Without a word being spoken, four unrelated pedestrians quietly stepped between the aggressor and the intended victim... and kept circling to keep them separated. One person in the defensive wall then put his arm around the shoulder of the aggressor... and offered quiet words of wisdom. The bicyclist ranted for another minute or two... then got back on his bike to complete his journey. In Australia, community advice would be to avoid the physical frey... call the police to settle violent disputes... in Italy, the community seems to see it as their role to help those whose frustrations have led them to violence. 

To generalise (always dangerous), perhaps Italians have to take more risks... just to get through the day... compared to their Australian counterparts. The community anticipates more accidents... and is willing to become personally involed in resolving issues. It leaves the question regarding Australia and the nanny state... should Australia spend so much resource protecting people from doing stupid things... or should it let the community learn the hard way... through experiencing the pain of stupid mistakes... just saying. 

We are at Montepertuso for a week... there is a lot to see. This afternoon, we climbed up the mountain to see the hole in the top. Geologists are stumped to explain its origin... there are only two other instances of mountains having holes in their tops... the other two being in India. 

Where is Julius Caesar?

Today is our last in Rome for this holiday... and we allocated our time to museums. We had a choice of over 50 museums... we called into an Information Centre for their help in selecting the best on offer... and said our interest lay in the period covering the Republic and itsmNot imediate aftermath. 

You may think our choice a little high-brow... but today was another 32°+ day... sites with air-conditioning had added attraction. 

The supply of raw materials for museums is not lacking. We had a peep into open doors of storage  areas and saw hundreds of statues just waiting for their day in the sun. On the museums' verandahs were the good quality statues that had not been identified... who is that maiden lounging on the sofa with her nose missing... one day a young research student will identify her... "goodness, is that what Hadrian's wife looked like!" There is enough unused material to fill another 50 museums. 

Today we put in 5 hours walking through statues, mosaics, frescoes and paintings from the period covering 100 years from 100 BC... the period when so much happened in the empire. Like so many Australians, I think of Julius Caesar as the most swashbuckling character of the period. I was expecting plenty of statues... a painting would have been nice... but what was on offer... nothing... plenty of statues of his adopted son... Augustine... but Julie didn't get a guernsey. Did the British Museum take all of the statues of Julius Caesar ? 

What we did see was the Baths of Diocletian... once extending over 13 hectares... thermal... open to all citizens... ceiling with heights in excess of 20 metres... more massive than Lane Cove's efforts. The decorations put together by Diocletian may have been a bit more elaborate as well. Michaelangelo organised a renovation of the area... but some unknown town clerk thought he could do better and did away with Angelo's efforts... I suppose Angelo didn't allow for the extra lane of horse and buggy... that was essential for the progress of Rome. 

The most startling impression for today was to compare the sophistication of art in statues with the relative primitive efforts being made with painting at the same period. Perhaps, painting equipment may not have been advanced... paper, paint, colours, brushes, etc. But the expressions, movement and emotions being conveyed in sculpture just were not attempted in painting. Tomorrow, we make tracks to the Amalfi coast to find new adventures. 

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Applying Queueing Theory to Rome's Top Sites

In Rome, we've stood in the odd queue. While shuffling along, your mind has time to start playing tricks. This morning, we joined the start of a 30 minute queue to see St Peter's Basilica... there were some some 5,000 people in the square... at 9:45 am. Why were all these people there? why were we there? There are some reasons that can be quickly discounted. Very few people in the queue appeared to be driven by devout motives... no one had their Rosery Beads out... no one was crawling on their knees in pilgrim style... no chanting.. no self flagilation.. inside  the basilica, the only use of a confessional box was by a Chinese guy leaning in so he could hear his mobile phone conversation a little better.

We were queuing under the collonade that circles St Peter's Square... designed by Bernini... and containing some of his best works. Our queuers showed no great desire to look more closely at his works of art. We noticed that inside the basilica cameras showed no bias reflecting the reputation of the artists. Michaelangelo attracted a crowd no bigger than unknown artists. The biggest queues occurred at the chapel showing a dead Pope's embalmed body... and the St Peter's statue where you were allowed to reach up and rub his foot for good luck. One of the less busy corners of the basilica was where a priest was conducting a church service... those attending looked like they had found a good spot to rest their legs for a while. 

In the queue, I would have liked to conduct a survey to test the basic understanding of these people who had dedicated a day to see St Peter's... just a few simple questions. 1): How many years ago did Jesus die? 2): Who was St Peter? 3): Who designed and organised the building of the dome atop St Peter's basilica? 4): Who painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? Anyone who couldn't get at least one of these questions right... should be asked to leave the queue. My guess is that the length of the queue could have been halved by applying this rule. 

After doing St Peter's, we wandered around to see the Sistine Chapel. We queued... had our goods x-rayed... and finally reached the ticket counter. "€16 each please." "No, there seems to be some misunderstandings... we don't want to buy the Sistine Chapel... we just want to look at it." "Smartass.. €16 each please." " I'll run it past the Chancellor of the Exchequer and let you know." We sat down, pulled out the guide book and looked up the Sistine Chapel... the paintings looked pretty much like the ones we saw on our visit in 1970. In St Peter's (just a few moments earlier) we had seen the diluting effect large crowds have on any enlightenment... discovery... or spiritual development. We felt the Church was trying to take more than its fair share of my wallet... I know... harsh words... it is hard to imagine the church doing such a thing. We put our wallets back in our pockets... bought a couple of bottles of beer (only 34° today)... and made our way back to our apartment. 

As for queueing theory (the non-mathematical kind), I reckon us tourists queue where we are told to queue... we are told by our travel agents... our travel books... TV shows... without asking ourselves if we really want to see the site. We march into the site... march out... and then tick the box. You can then go home and say... "We saw St Peter's just like you said we should. Gee it was nice." 

Design Your Monument - Rome can provide Samples

Exercise your imagination... imagine that Clover Moore has granted you Martin Place for your use... to build your monument to commemorate your illustrious life... not just the cenotaph section... the full length of Martin Place. Julia Gillard is prepared to rush through legislation to fund whatever fantasy you desire. Pick up a pencil and start drawing... what is the height of your monument... 10 metres... 50 metres??? I assume you'll need marble... Carrera marble (nothing but the best for you)... would you like to be seated on a horse... perhaps have the horse rearing high in the air to show you as a person of action... perhaps support of a few lions that reinforces your reputation for fearless leadership... I would suggest a few angels gazing adoringly in your direction... perhaps for the more virile male readers, how about some virgins throwing flowers in your direction... perhaps wearing some low cut dresses... done in good taste... in the classical style. 

Now don't be shy.. my survey of Roman monuments shows absolutely no correlation between grandeur of monument and grandeur of life achievement. Just because you haven't done anything doesn't mean you can't have the biggest monument in Sydney. Consider the monument Julius Caesar left... you all know big Julie... and compare its size with the efforts of Victor Emanuel... you all know shy Vic don't you. As you know, big Julie met a sticky end before his standard allotment of 3 score years and ten... perhaps he planned the greatest monument of all...but just got the timing wrong. However, it is interesting to note that Julie left only one monument (to his deceased daughter - Jullia)... a relatively modest construction... didn't build himself a palace... and yet, his closest friends found it necessary to stab him in the back (and in the front)... because he had a big ego. On the other hand, Victor Emanuel was a good politician... managed to get city states to coalesce into the Italian nation... didn't do a lot of personal fighting... too busy being a model for all the magnificent monuments spread all over Italy. His monument is absolutely enormous! 

The key to a good monument is to have the construction portray the essence of your personality. Rome has certainly missed some great opportunities in this regard. Take Tiberius for example... generally recognised as a certifiable psychopath... a frightening individual... should have been kept in a cage. What did they design for his monument??? a triumphant arch... in no way portraying the sook who spent most of his time sitting in darkened rooms... ranting at some imagined slight that would result in yet another midnight killing.. a more appropriate monument would show Tiberius in uncontrolled rage. What about Nero... who appointed his horse to the position of chief consul... now that called for a monument of a horse... seated behind a desk. How about your monument... standing in the checkout queue at the supermarket... nice... or gardening... getting a massage in tennis gear... the options are endless. What is your preference? 

Out there having fun in the burning scorching Roman sun

Oh, when the sun beats down
And burns the tar up on the roof
And your shoes get so hot
You wish your tired feet were fireproof...

You are in Rome... in the summer... doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city... today it got to 35°... the coolest of the days predicted for the week... you look at your map with all the visiting spots for the day circled in ink... knowing your energy will run out... well before all the circles get ticked.

All round people looking half dead... children in the prams holding melted ice creams... hard to tell the difference between the kid from the ice cream. You shuffle along at half pace... everything moves in slow motion... the decision occupying your mind is when to take another swig at your diminishing water bottle. Yes, we're out there having fun in the burning scorching Roman sun. 

The street merchants are having a good day... people ready to stop walking today to listen to the blurb... when normally they would push through... cold water bottles are running out... umbrellas are selling like hot cakes...  ice creams for the kiddies are a must. The living statues really earn their tips today... but they have awareness and select a shady spot... the beggars with awareness problems keep on their heavy coats... and stay in full sunlight. Roman Centurions work in relays... between standing at the postcard places and marching to the bottle cart. 

Today, we focussed our energies on the Colosseum... lots of shade... plenty of space to accommodate the large crowd. The remaining ruins are enough to give you a feel for what it could have been like on a carnival day in 313... did you know the Colosseum is celebrating its 1,700th anniversary??? you'd have that date in your diary. Imagine a day 1,700 years ago... another 35° day... plenty of time for the bricks to heat up... even down in the area below the arena... where the animals, gladiators... and perhaps a few Christians were in store. The Centurions would have been working in relays to make sure they had a good supply of fresh water... the street merchants would have been having a good day... straw hats would have been generating a brisk trade... but I suspect rose water would have popular as well. Imagine the smell wafting up from subterranean animal enclosures... ripe... over ripe. Imagine the BO wafting from the guy sitting next to you in the 70,000 audience. 

Today, we travelled on crowded buses and thanked the science of Mumm deodorants for keeping bus air breathable. 

Rome - Creative Chaos

We have just driven from Lucca to Rome... and stopped off at a couple of enchanted villages to enjoy the Tuscan countryside. This was not good preparation for coping with Rome traffic. We have experienced challenging traffic conditions in a number of cities. Rome drivers have a special spot that is reserved for them... unchallenged... willingness to ignore every traffic rule. There are no lanes marked on the road... local municipal managers probably figured there is little benefit in spending resources in marking the lanes if every driver ignores them. The early Romans built their empire on straight roads... but didn't get round to building roads within their own city. Our current version of 'Peggy' (GPS Sat Nav) gave up on Rome roads... and I do not blame her... roads in a rabbit warren are better planned. In our desperation to get around corners, we needed to cut across non-existing lanes. Local drivers were used to others performing desperate and unlawful turns... and gaps opened up when we were feeling most helpless. We have the car locked up in the apartment's car yard... and it will stay there until we move out in 5 days time. 

Tomorrow will be special... seeing the streets where the foundations of modern history were set. We saw the sights in 1970... but it will all look different through 60 year old eyes. Joye is all set to buy a new camera... she wore out the old one... too many photos of signs. 

Pisa - Celebrating Repeated Mistakes

We have spent the morning walking around a site that Mussolini thought was a national disgrace. He thought it humiliating that Italian engineers could not get rid of the lean in the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Undoubtedly, the site is a disgrace for the Italian engineers... but the international tourists just love the site. Each day thousands upon thousands ask the same questions... why doesn't it fall down... why did they build that crazy lean... will it finally fall... etc, etc. They ignore the other three Pisa towers that have leans... they just go bananas about this one. The story behind the Leaning Tower is interesting... and starts in the early 12th century. 

Donna Berta di Bernardo was a pious woman who wanted to buy her way into the heavenly kingdom... and upon her death in 1172 bequeathed her earthly possessions to purchase stone to form the foundations for a tower... to complement the marvellous cathedral the city of Pisa had built just outside the old city. Her bequest was enough to purchase stone for only 5 metres of foundations... perhaps sufficient for a tower built on rock... but not enough for foundations of a tower built on marshy ground. They dug the foundations and saw that the site was very wet and covered some soft clay that was likely to compact over time. Any responsible engineer would have withdrawn building permission... but these creative thinkers said, "She'll be right! We'll just limit the height to 2 stories. The change of plans left plenty of money to buy the best of heavy marble to complete the construction. The building was completed... everyone was happy with a tower of 2 stories... even though it was shorter  than the Cathedral itself.

 For 5 years the tower stood upright... and the church people started to think positive thoughts. Imagine how beautiful it would look if we add a third story... it would balance the size of the cathedral so much better... anyway, it looks like the clay has settled... so it should be alright." Big mistake... as soon as they built the third story, the structure started to tilt... only a little bit. Work was called to a halt for 100 years. The city fathers tried to find out who were the responsible builders... when they searched, they found the construction certificates were unsigned... no one could remember the name of the prime builder... the subcontractors reckoned the plan was to have a tilt all along... to add to the aesthetics. Anyway, there were wars to fight... empires to retain... you can't get too excited by a leaning tower... in fact, the citizens got used to the lean... and saw the lean as an expression of independence. 

After the 100 years, a new generation of engineers saw that they were smarter than their forefathers... and by applying new technology... could straighten the tower while extending its height by another 4 stories. Well, the straightening didn't happen... although the banana shape introduced in the top 4 floors proved to be a good idea. But what happened next was just crazy! 

Alessandro Della Gerard had the bright idea of digging a ditch round the tower... as a way of displaying those 5 metres of foundation stone. They started to dig the ditch... waterstarted to appear... and some citizens thought the lean was getting worse. 

Mussolini had a go at correcting the lean... by placing a heavy counterweight into the base of the tower. Again, a good idea that helped with stability... but not enough to correct the tilt. In very recent times our current generation of engineers have had their go... computer models and all. They all agree that they have done a very good job... but the tilt persists. 

So, this jolly tower has been fascinating people for over 800 years... fascinating them with engineering incompetence. Even today, the building gets people to act in peculiar ways... like having their photo taken in a perspective that appears they are holding up the tower... stopping it falling over. Now, if you were the first to think of this photography trick... you could feel very pleased with yourself. But when hundreds are duplicating the same trick... and you line up to be the 101st... what is the point?

Lucca - Gave the World Puccini

What is there not to like about Lucca? It didn't push itself to the forefront on of the world stage... it is not that showy... posturing style of town. But take a quick look at European history and you will see that Lucca has been making consistent contributions worthy of praise. 

Did you know that Lucca was the town selected by Rome's first triumvirate to formalise their power-sharing arrangements? As you will recall, the members of the triumvirate were Rome's greatest generals... big Julie... flashy Pompey ..  and rich Crassus. They didn't want the odium of being the ones to bring the Roman Republic to a close... but they didn't want to leave major decisions in the hands of cretins who didn't understand that what was best for Rome happened to be the same as what was best for them! Anyway, it was a feather in the hat of Lucca to be selected as the location for the final meeting that renewed the solidarity of the triumvirate. 

Right through the middle-ages, Lucca was at the forefront of building engineering. It has 3 churches still standing that were the marvels of their day. It has had its share of saints and sinners... people who generate good stories. I liked Lucca making a saint of a sweet young girl who developed the habit of stealing food from her employer to give to starving street people. The story I heard was that she was caught in the act of handing out the stolen food. Her employer pressed charges... the street people said she was only giving them flowers... not food at all. The employer did a stake-out watching her the next night as she stole the food... put it in her basket... go into the side alleys... and start distributing to the street people. Agents of the employer swooped upon the sweet lass... hah hah now we've got you... they grabbed the basket... opened it up... and found flowers! The citizens of Lucca thought it a miracle. Jesus had turned loaves into fishes... but here was a girl who could turn loaves into flowers... great story. 

In recent times, Lucca has given the world Puccini. Today, we saw his place of birth... the organ and the church where he refined his basic music skills... and saw some fine statues of him. If we wanted to part with €20, we could have heard the town's unemployed musicians murder some of his exquisite pieces. 

We chose instead to savour some of Lucca's great food. The supermarket is superb. We stood in front of the delli counter selecting our evening meal from the amazing variety of food on offer. It was great entertainment to observe Italians showing their passion for food in the care and precision given to delli staff regarding the purchases they made. We were delighted at our selections of salads for our evening meal. By way of contrast... while we studied the delli offerings, we had a group of 4 USA citizens spend the same period of time deciding whether to buy two loaves of white bread for their peanut butter sandwiches... or just the one loaf... talk about stereotypes! 

Cinque Terra - Portovenere Another Gem

Porto Venere is not officially a Cinque Terra entity... it is disqualified on the basis of being too large... and too vulnerable to attack. But if measured on historical significance... charm... and grandeur ... Porto, Venere can match it with any of the special five. 

This morning we were in a quandary ... having done all the major walks... explored all the quaint villages... ridden the tunnels... what else was there to do? Kate, our landlady, had recommended the boat trip past the the Cinque Terra towns to the next town on its own peninsula... Porto Venere. Our only commitment for the day was to meet our Tasmanian friends... Hazel and Meredith... for dinner... so we followed Kate's recommendation. 

We were surprised by the large numbers of people using the boat. We had experienced large numbers of tourists on the trains... but hadn't realised the boat numbers were also high. It would seem that tourist travel to the Cinque Terra towns, by one mode of transport (say, trains)... have a cup of coffee... walk the streets... carrying their walking poles... walking gloves... mountain boots... backpacks with hydration tubes over each shoulder... then catch another form of transport (say, boat) back to their apartment... never setting a foot on the walking trails. All this time, we thought we were just lucky in avoiding the crowds on the trail... but half of these tourists are posers... fakes... pretenders... who have never had the intention of breaking into a sweat... but want a portfolio of photos that suggest otherwise! 

Portoe Venere has some 12th century buildings in an excellent state of repair. The English version of the brochures had run out... so we still don't know who was attacking who... what treasure was at stake... who had God on their side. The fortifications were so large that it wasn't a local job... probably the building was sponsored by some empire... probably the Genoans throwing their money around trying to keep the cultured Venicians at bay. Anyway, the builders did a great job with fortification... just hope they worked. 

Tonight we met Hazel and Meredith to celebrate Meredith's birthday. We met them on the Balkans packaged tour... and have accidentally bumped into them a couple of times thereafter. We had an enjoyable meal. Tomorrow, they will travel in our car (if we can all fit) down to Lucca... they will then catch a bus up to Lake Como... and we will head towards Rome. 

Lavento - Old Train Tunnels make great Bike Tracks

Italians love a good tunnel. With half their country covered in mountains, they've had lots of practice building them... and when they have finished building one lot of tunnels, they turn around and do the job again... with bigger and better tunnels. So it was in Cinque Terra... in the days when trains were small and slow, a train line was tunnelled along a path that hugged the coast... lots of tunnels that periodically broke through the rock wall to give a glimpse of the sparkling Mediterranean. When tourism attracted large numbers of people to Cinque Terra, the rail system had to be upgraded... building roads would have spoilt the region... it had to be rail... mostly tunnelled... out of sight. Today, that new rail system is heavily used between the five small towns. Trains run each half hour and we have found them all to be packed.

So, what was to be done with the old tunnels? Rip up the lines... put down a bitumen surface... add some lighting... and you have an added tourist attraction... one suitable for wet weather when trail walking is not possible. Today was bright and sunny... so the number of cyclists was low... plenty of room for inexperienced cyclists like Joye and me. We needed to take a fleece... the tunnels are long and the air in the middle doesn't get a chance to warm-up.

We cycled to the next train station at Bonassola... some 2.8 klms away... on perfectly level path. Like Levanto, it is too big to get a guernsey as part of the Cinque Terra specials... but it was a delightful seaside resort. We had coffee observing the strange way people use their Italian beaches... without the dynamics of a decent surf... the whole scene looked to be asleep... full of old people sunning their bones... young mums sunning their infants... everyone seems to be waiting for the surfboarders to arrive... for the Life Savers to put up their flags... for the surf to start thundering.

The final leg was a 2.7 km ride... this time with much longer stretches of tunnel between glimpses of the sea. The town was perched 200 metres above the railway line... so we excused ourselves from making a visit and made our way home.

What a great day. We realised how long it had been since our last bike ride... our sense of balance took an hour or so to sort itself out.

Tomorrow, we meet up with friends we met on the Balkans packaged tour... a couple of mature ladies from Tasmania. We will enjoy catching up with their news.

Too Many Tourists - It's all a Frame of Mind

The world's worst kept secrets... tourists are not exotic... they are penny-pinching inflexible... blind... old... infirm... and ignorant... otherwise, they are very nice people. You read stories of the time of the Grand Tour... at the end of the 19th century... when people of leisure discovered new worlds... those days are well and truly behind us. Today, everyone seems to be travelling on a budget... on a timetable... with a long lists of boxes to tick. And it's so easy to get caught up in the mass-produced mind set.

Joye and I have so much to learn about the art of touring... to offer advice on good techniques is preliminary. At this stage, here are some prejudices we struggle to contain... prejudices you may find familiar.

Starting with the trivial... who likes tourists with loud voices... who likes tourists that wear caps back-to-front or sideways? Who likes tourists who take photos of meals served to them in cheap restaurants? Who likes tourists who stop to chat with friends right at the bottleneck in the pathway, gangplank or stairwell? Who likes tourists who sneak into queues halfway up? Who likes tourists that complain to the cut-price service deliverers about imperfections in the service? Fortunately, when we actually speak to a tourist exhibiting a prejudice, we have found them very likeable people.

Touring is no holiday... it's a game requiring stamina, tactics and humour. We are handling a mass-produced product and trying to fashion it into a unique personal experience... not easy. This week we booked accommodation in a remote (relatively) valley, some 3 klms out of town. Getting away from day-to-day tourist life has been a godsend... being able to cook our own meals... do our domestic chores without a tight deadline... being able to walk out the back door and feed the chooks... watch the tadpoles in the stream... sit in the sunshine without worrying about who may be watching. We venture from our safe vault for several hours each day to walk one of the Cinque Terra trails... then scurry back to our private cubbyhole.

When a fellow tourist proves to be annoying... we remember some of the great personalities we have met on the road. It's the people who make our experience so enjoyable.

Italian Riviera - for the Rich

The mega-wealthy are born in America... live in Spain... and die in Genoa... copying the silver trail. Genoa's wealth gave birth to the Italian Riviera. Potofino gained a reputation for being the gem of the Riviera. However, it was not discovered by Elizabeth Taylor until after municipal authorities built a sealed road from Santa Marguerite in the early 1960's. Elizabeth brought fame to Portofino by holidaying there each year with Richard Burton... as she did with Eddie Fisher... John Warner... Conrad Hilton... Michael Wilding... et al. In her wake, she dragged along the hangers-on... Rex Harrison dropped his Oscar into the harbour (it was recovered)... Ava Gardner walked down from her villa in her fur coat each night for a drink at the harbourside bar... Greta Garbo loved to swim naked in the harbour... thinking no one could see her... and no one told her otherwise... Truman Capote called Portofino home... the list goes on.

With so much money around, the church had to introduce decor appropriate for the settings. We visited the church in neighbouring Santa Marguerite and saw chandeliers hanging above each pew row. There was no shortage of silver in the alter piece. But not all the wealthy were wanting to be ostentatious with displays of wealth. A group of citizens started a church for people who had anonymously performed good works on a very big scale. The church was always packed... even though good works on a very big scale seemed a bit thin on the ground.

I don't know where Graeme was today. I thought I saw his boat in the harbour... with the professional crew decked out in matching t-shirts... come to think of it... it may not have been Graeme... wrong colour.

Cinque Terra - Darwinism at Work

At first glance, citizens of Cinque Terra seem to have set things up in a way to maximise difficulties. They have chosen the most difficult headlands on which to build their towns... in the most remote parts of the Mediterranean coast. No, Dorothy, in the 14th century, the peasants did not anticipate the tourist hiking craze of 2013, and did not select village sites on their aesthetic quality. As usual for the 14th century, defence lay at the heart of town planning.

From the land, invading empires gave the locals a hard time. The conquerors wanted payment of taxes... and young men for armies. The locals didn't always think this a good thing. So locals saw some attractions in setting up their communities at locations where land conquerors couldn't be bothered reaching them... locations for small villages well back into rugged mountain ranges started to make more sense. But how do you get to market to trade your produce... buy essentials not locally available (salt, looms). If you could get access to the coast and your conquering empire is not particularly interested in coastal surveillance... you could get the local pirates to help you out. This is what the early citizens of Cinque Terra did... and these steps solved many of their problems... but not all.

The locals had to adapt their strategies to accommodate the unfriendly pirates... in this case from the north coast of Africa. Once the Africans discovered the isolated ports in the Cinque Terra area... they organised yearly picnics... sail over the waters, do a little bit of rape and pillage... collect a few women and children for the slave market... and make it back home in time for evening prayers. The men in Cinque Terra had a meeting and decided to build forts on the most inaccessible parts of the coast. When the Africans sailed into harbour, the alarm would be sounded and all the citizens would flee into the fort. For this to work, the citizens had to live within a short walk from the fort. Gradually, these amazing villages took shape... in what appears to be the most unlikely place to build a village.

Genoans tried to muscle in on the action... they said to the Cinque Terra citizens, "pay us some taxes and we'll get rid of the pirates". The Cinque Terra citizens said, "you get rid of the pirates first... then you can talk to us about taxes". That was the last they heard from the Genoans. They were left alone... too small to matter... too smart to lose their independence. Their numbers have remained very small... even today, when you take away the number of tourists, the villages are in the range of 200 to 400 citizens... with larger numbers of farmers living up in the fertile valleys.

When we tourists are trudging along the donkey trails, we may be inclined to criticise the locals for living with such inadequate donkey trails for so long. Even Joye has asked, "Why don't they build better donkey trails?" Now we know that difficult movement from town to town was a defensive strategy that served Cinque Terra so well for century after century.

Cinque Terra - Walking Where Romans did not Dare

The Romans looked at the donkey trails joining the Cinque Terra settlements and said, "It's not worf' it". The Genoans said, "We'll stick to the sea". Tackling the donkey trails is not for the faint hearted. The terrain is rugged... even today there are few roads down to the five villages. The slopes running down to the sea are used as vineyards... but the grape growers have had to build funiculars to help the grape pickers carry their loads to the top of the slope. Walking this donkey track, ladies and gentlemen, is the type of challenge on which Joye and I thrive... along with the 200 people sharing the track today. We were shocked to see some young girls finishing the track wearing thongs... and carrying a pink handbag... completely disrespectful of the challenge and historic reverence that the track deserves.

We took a train into Monterosso, psyched-up to start the walk. It took us a while to find the start of the trail... cunningly disguised as a tunnel through the first mountain ridge. This proved to be the only concession given to the walkers. Despite the large numbers of walkers, the condition of the path is poor. Stones on steps show no regard for lessening OH&S risks... they sit exactly where the donkey kicked them... in the 15th century. The track was narrow... usually single file... but often had rock overhang that caused you to turn sideways to avoid falling off the ledge. We spent a good part of the walk waiting for walkers... heading in the opposite direction... to use the track. Of course, we had the geriatrics who had just discovered they suffer from vertigo... clinging to branches halfway along a ledge... too scared to go forward or back. Generally, the walkers were good-natured... with the usual exceptions of those few who wanted to set some time record at any cost.

At the halfway point, rain started to fall. Joye... anticipating every eventuality... had packed ponchos... so we thrived in the extra degree of difficulty. Wet polished stone set in clay resulted in steps more slippery than Eddie Obied in the witness box. The descent into Vernazza was steep... but thanks to good luck... we got down without a fall. Our lunch in Vernazza was delightful... sheltering from the rain... watching the other walkers making their long descent in difficult conditions. We were hoping that the rain would ease and allow us to complete the next leg of the Cinque Terra walk... onto Corniglia... but that was not to be... we caught the train back to our apartment in Lavento... to watch the Men's Final of the French Open. It was a great day.

Cinque Terra - A Cure for the Maladies of Life

Is your life getting a little stale??? is the pep in your step getting harder to ignite??? is pontificating taking more time than excitement dreaming??? To add more colours to your perspective... ditch your therapist... skip the coffee and alcohol... come to Cinque Terra. I'm prescribing Cinque Terra having just arrived... without doing a single walk. It's all based on the 'vibes' coming from the valley where we will spend the next week. We have booked an isolated place in a back gully running down to Levanto. To convey the degree of our 'backwoodsness'... the sign-on for the internet has a password of' stinkydog'... we are invited to collect eggs for our breakfast from the hen-house at any time we choose... our parked car practically blocks the road, but "Don't worry... hardly anyone ever uses it."

The weather forecasts don't look great... but we have won the lottery on weather so often that we feel we can ignore the gloom and doom being touted by Google. We checked out the beach at Levanto.. with real sand... not the imported stuff we saw at Maggiore... same colour, though... you can't call that stuff sand... it's grit... not sand.

The trip down from the lakes was uneventful... right passed George Clooney's house... traffic overload... maniacal drivers... but somehow everyone gets through in one piece... how, I do not know. We are averaging 4.3 litres per 1,000 klms... slightly better than the VW Golf.

News is scarce at the moment... and I don't want to talk about the cricket.

Mennagio - Even here, History Shouts at You

Even in regions as provincial as Mennagio, the consistent messages from times past keep shouting at you. That basic message is that art and engineering up to the late 16th century were mediocre... and in relatively small volumes. From 1601 onwards, the volume exploded and the technical sophistication was transformed. What happened from (say) 1550 onwards that generated such rapid development of culture?

One theory from Charles Mann... in his book "1493 - How Europe's Discovery of the Americas Revolutionised Trade Ecology and Life on Earth" (thanks Nathan for the recommendation) is that we can all thank the Potato for the Renaissance period. Walking around the churches and museums in the villages around Mennagio, you can see evidence with your own eyes.

To take only a small part of Charles Mann theory... he points out that a lot of things started to go Europe's way after 1550... to such an extent that its population doubled in period to 1650. The gold and silver from America purchased imports from China and Asia that funded a period of sustainable growth in Europe. The 'little ice age' came to an end... and normal agriculture became more reliable. But Charles Mann attributes a significant portion of increased prosperity to the introduction of the potato. He has tracked the relationship between farmers starting to use the potato and the incidence of famine. He claims that famines in Europe occurred within each decade and killed one-tenth of the population. He claims that growing potatoes eradicated famine... removed the population reduction caused by famine... allowed states to expand their graineries ... gave greater power to the states... allowed states to expand their courts and expand the number of artists, engineers and philosophers. Greater numbers... more competition... more communications... lead to a sudden jump in the volume and quality of community culture... which in turn gave confidence to adopt further changes. Europe was on its way to grow to dominate China... the Muslim States of the Near East... the world. Without the potato, Europe would have continued to be a second-rate region... beholden to the whims of China, India and Turkey.

So next time you see a nice piece of 16th century art... stop and say some words of thanks to the humble potato... without it, we would still be living a life of perpetual hunger.

Today, thanks to the potato, we saw beautiful gardens whose origins began in the 17th century... we saw a church in each village... with vaulted ceilings and expansive stands between pillars... we saw large blocks of stone that had been hoisted high up in the wall... we saw frescoes that portrayed emotion, background and perspective... all features you will not have seen in 15th-century art had it not been for Christopher Columbus bringing back on his ship, the humble potato. Let's hear it for the potato!

Lago Como - Season Starts in 8 days time

Today, we drove from Lago Maggiore through the corner of Switzerland and have ended up in Lago Como at a town called Menaggio. The weather is great... plenty of sun... high 20's in temperature. Our complaint today (there is always a complaint) draws attention to the terrible air quality... just as bad as Greece. Three or four consecutive days of sunshine seems to be followed by heavy haze. In Australia, air this dirty would be an election issue... it is so bad... mind you, the colour of Tony's budgie smugglers is an election issue... so, perhaps we need a new measure of importance.

On our drive this morning we had our morning coffee overlooking Lago Lugano... so we have ticked off 4 of Italy's big lakes... this touring is no holiday... ticking boxes is hard work.

We came to Menaggio for two reasons... to meet up with Sue and Patrick (Sue was a fellow teacher at Willoughby Primary)... that happens at dinner tonight... and to do a spot of George Clooney watching. George is supposed to live half of the year here... which half of the year??? the half when you're not here.

The season seems to be off to a slow start in the lakes district. The mountain roads are already impossibly busy... but the towns and restaurants look empty. We walked through a hotel grounds this afternoon... one with a beach facing the lake... with real sand imported from Australia. On this beautiful summer's day... some 200 banana chairs were available for the British and German sun worshippers... not one of them was in use. (See sad little photo below.)