Saturday, July 24, 2004
http://www.ostellionline.org/ostello.php?idostello=348 is the link for any bargain holidayers out there, or snowbirds looking to spend the winter in warmer climes. Did I mention theres a golf course nearby?
The train down through Basilicata was a trip and a half. It's a harsh part of Italy. Lacking Tuscany's billowing curves, Basilicata is starched pleats and folds - but with fantastic river gorges and medieval towns balanced on seemingly inaccessible crags. I watched golden eagles rising thermals as we crossed valleys of fruit trees and wheat. Basilicata defies you to love it.
On the other hand avoid Potenza. It's a town known for its earthquakes, which may be why nobody really cares about the quality of architecture. The women wear a particularly acrid deoderant and the men all have the same noses.
The train down through Basilicata was a trip and a half. It's a harsh part of Italy. Lacking Tuscany's billowing curves, Basilicata is starched pleats and folds - but with fantastic river gorges and medieval towns balanced on seemingly inaccessible crags. I watched golden eagles rising thermals as we crossed valleys of fruit trees and wheat. Basilicata defies you to love it.
On the other hand avoid Potenza. It's a town known for its earthquakes, which may be why nobody really cares about the quality of architecture. The women wear a particularly acrid deoderant and the men all have the same noses.
Friday, July 23, 2004
It's all go... I'm just back from Puglia where I have had three blissful days in 40 degrees of dry sundrenched heat lying on white sand with the Ionian sea as my bath. Now it's packing and off to Blighty to pack and move and, I hope, complete on my house sale. In the interim I'm back in Naples for the weekend, allowing me to pack here too, as I am moving from this vile damp pit to a 4th floor brand new apartment.. .with terrace...! The downside is its in a far less salubrious part of town, but at least its a nice apartment, which means I shall happy to be a prisoner there during the hours of darkness.
Puglia then to start with...
I stayed in a place you won't find on a map unless you have spy satellite photographs. it is cryptically entitled Castellaneta Marina.. This means it is not Castellaneta (which is the hometown of Rudolf Valentino) and nor is it near the station of castellanete Marina. It is instead near GinosaMarina, not Ginosa.
The reason for this inexact location is, I suspect, because it is a resort of second homes belonging to Italians from all over the peninsula. In summer the population can swell to 40,000. In winter its 200, yes two hundred. Now bear with me here.... This comune of 200 people has a racecourse, tennis courts, swimming pool, and the latest addition, a ast IMAX theatre. It is of course shut in the summer as all Italian cinemas are, so Im not quite sure of the point of it is.
Castellaneta Marina also has miles of fantastic beaches, and no Brits. All this could change as I write the next ten lines.
The 'hostel' in CM, is not a hostel in the usual sense of the word, but a residence. For the heady sum of 12 euro a night I got a 3 bedded flat, and extra 2 euro a day got me a bicycle and another 2 euro got me alift from the nearest train station at Ginosa. Now that is a bargain. The woman who runs the place was bemoaning the fact that she is only fully booked in August. WHy??? So Brits who want a cheap as chips holiday, book the hostel... but you will need to learn some basic Italian cos they dont have a word of English. Be warned. And dont be expecting 5 star luxury. On the other hand, if its good enough for Italians it will be clean enough for any Brit.
Puglia then to start with...
I stayed in a place you won't find on a map unless you have spy satellite photographs. it is cryptically entitled Castellaneta Marina.. This means it is not Castellaneta (which is the hometown of Rudolf Valentino) and nor is it near the station of castellanete Marina. It is instead near GinosaMarina, not Ginosa.
The reason for this inexact location is, I suspect, because it is a resort of second homes belonging to Italians from all over the peninsula. In summer the population can swell to 40,000. In winter its 200, yes two hundred. Now bear with me here.... This comune of 200 people has a racecourse, tennis courts, swimming pool, and the latest addition, a ast IMAX theatre. It is of course shut in the summer as all Italian cinemas are, so Im not quite sure of the point of it is.
Castellaneta Marina also has miles of fantastic beaches, and no Brits. All this could change as I write the next ten lines.
The 'hostel' in CM, is not a hostel in the usual sense of the word, but a residence. For the heady sum of 12 euro a night I got a 3 bedded flat, and extra 2 euro a day got me a bicycle and another 2 euro got me alift from the nearest train station at Ginosa. Now that is a bargain. The woman who runs the place was bemoaning the fact that she is only fully booked in August. WHy??? So Brits who want a cheap as chips holiday, book the hostel... but you will need to learn some basic Italian cos they dont have a word of English. Be warned. And dont be expecting 5 star luxury. On the other hand, if its good enough for Italians it will be clean enough for any Brit.
Monday, July 12, 2004
Another lapse, and it's hard to give a reason. Nevertheless, I shall try. Firstly, the sun came out and the siren call of the sea called me. In my not so many spare hours I ventured forth with factors in hand and lay garnering Vitamin D.
Secondly, I'm just nicely back from Florence. It was the desire for superb summer sales that made me jump on a train north. In that respect I failed dismally, as there was nothing to buy. HOwever, it was lovely to be out of Naples for a weekend.
It's a toss up, though. Admittedly there was no rubbish in the streets and no Albanian children trying to rob you at every turn, but there were so many Americans, English and assorted Anglophones that Italian has become the second language of the city. I was forced to escape to Le Cascine, the park to the west of the city, to listen to any Italian being spoken and avoiding conversations such as the following in a large bookshop.
Woman (American) to daughter...: You should buy a book, a story... I read Anna Karina when I was at college, and I rebought it. Anna Kareena, its a book.
Daughter: You could buy 'An Italian in America'
Woman: I could not. I could write it!
Me: Muffled snorts and guffaws of laughter at idea of loud American being able to write anything when the title of her favourite book escapes her.
Woman to bilingual shop assistant: Where is the book about Michelangelo?
B SA - Which one madam?
Woman: The one with Charlton Heston, The Agony and Ecstasy (To my mind a book about overdosing)
BSA: It's in historical fiction.
Woman: Why? Why isn't it in autobiography?
BSA: Because it's fiction madam
Woman: It is not.... etc etc ad nauseam and I leave the shop.
One reason why Naples holds its strange allure for me.
On top of all this I am trying to find a new flat, and its very tedious. I dont want much: two rooms, possibly a terrace, light and dry. Its like trying to find someone who admitted to voting for Berlusconi. I buy the property magazines and make endless pointless phone calls. The only flat I have seen thus far was a '2 bedroomed, light and airy flat'. It had two rooms, admittedly. The toilet was installed. The shower was the kitchen sink, and dated from pre-cholera days. I veer from desperation to a acceptance of something perhaps happening in the fullness of time. Perhaps I have been in Naples too long.
Secondly, I'm just nicely back from Florence. It was the desire for superb summer sales that made me jump on a train north. In that respect I failed dismally, as there was nothing to buy. HOwever, it was lovely to be out of Naples for a weekend.
It's a toss up, though. Admittedly there was no rubbish in the streets and no Albanian children trying to rob you at every turn, but there were so many Americans, English and assorted Anglophones that Italian has become the second language of the city. I was forced to escape to Le Cascine, the park to the west of the city, to listen to any Italian being spoken and avoiding conversations such as the following in a large bookshop.
Woman (American) to daughter...: You should buy a book, a story... I read Anna Karina when I was at college, and I rebought it. Anna Kareena, its a book.
Daughter: You could buy 'An Italian in America'
Woman: I could not. I could write it!
Me: Muffled snorts and guffaws of laughter at idea of loud American being able to write anything when the title of her favourite book escapes her.
Woman to bilingual shop assistant: Where is the book about Michelangelo?
B SA - Which one madam?
Woman: The one with Charlton Heston, The Agony and Ecstasy (To my mind a book about overdosing)
BSA: It's in historical fiction.
Woman: Why? Why isn't it in autobiography?
BSA: Because it's fiction madam
Woman: It is not.... etc etc ad nauseam and I leave the shop.
One reason why Naples holds its strange allure for me.
On top of all this I am trying to find a new flat, and its very tedious. I dont want much: two rooms, possibly a terrace, light and dry. Its like trying to find someone who admitted to voting for Berlusconi. I buy the property magazines and make endless pointless phone calls. The only flat I have seen thus far was a '2 bedroomed, light and airy flat'. It had two rooms, admittedly. The toilet was installed. The shower was the kitchen sink, and dated from pre-cholera days. I veer from desperation to a acceptance of something perhaps happening in the fullness of time. Perhaps I have been in Naples too long.
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