Matera

Matera is an amazing town in the Basilicata province, down near the 'arch' of the boot. Even though it's the second biggest town in the province, Matera's a royal bitch to reach by train, and the whole province is pretty darn poor and off the tourist track. Parts of Mel Gibson's Passion were filmed here though, and in about 3-5 years the tourist industry in this town is going to explode.

The historic portions of the town are along the edges and down the sides of a very steep and deep ravine (there's actually two, making sort of a Y-shaped thing). The hillsides are so full of shallow caves and larger cave networks, a map would probably look like the close-up of a sea spongue. People have been living in these cave neighborhoods (sassi) since the paleolithic, carving and expanding and adding house-like facades and chimneys. The area also attracted monks starting in the 9th and 10th centuries who built monasteries and churches into the caves--think India's Ajanta crossed with Turkey's Cappadocia. Now when you look out across the sassi from the upper edges of the landform (where the more modern town is), it's like looking down into stacks and stacks of light white and yellow houses and TV atennas and lights and stray cats. You can't see paths or streets anywhere from up above, just a few stairs that lead from one roof/patio to another. It's like some Escher sketch brought to life and I swear physics don't work in the sassi. We didn't have a map when we first arrived and everyone who gave us directions sent us the very long way around--following the top of the ridge--because they knew if we went into the sassi we'd never find our way out again. Even with a map it felt so much like the maps of Venice. Two colors, one for streets and one for caves and tunnels (like Venice's streets and canals). This town defies everything the American (or Roman) brain considers 'town' but clearly people have decided this is a Good Place and haven't left for over 10,000 years.

It is also home to the world's most amazing bread. Harder than the Grinch's heart on the outside, but soft and spongey like potato bread on the inside. They had it at every restaurant and every store. It was our complimentary breakfast every morning. Manna! True manna! That crust could withstand a nuclear attack but was oh so very tasty. I shall have to learn to bake it if I can.

Three little kittens sleeping on a roof. Or is it a patio?


Decor over the door of the Chiesa de Purgatorio. The archaeologist's church. Actually, it was perfectly normal and barroque on the inside, whereas the 12th c. church that looked all normal on the outside was extra dark (damn caves) inside and filled with capitals carved like demons and shifty shadows.


Mom, outside one of the rupestral churches.




The other side of the ravine had been just as heavily occupied as this one, in it's day, but now is an archaeological park. I was sorely tempted to hike over there! This is part of the view from the patio/balcony of the hostel room.




Room in the converted monastery where we stayed.


All the tuff--the whole town is built from this stuff--is riddled with fossils eroding out.


The doors of the Chiesa de Purgatorio

Florence, August 1-3rd

Morning above Florence.


The ceiling at the Uffizi. Whole galleries and hallways painted like this! Late 16th century. I spent almost as much time gawking at the ceiling and running into people as I did looking at the paintings (several of which were recently restored and eye-popping). Yeah, after about 4.5 hours Mom was weak with hunger and drug me out, but I could spend days here. I like the collections better than the Prado.


By some fluke of architecture, the only way you can actually see the dome of the duomo from the roof of the Uffizi is in the window reflection--not from looking out the edge of the roof. So Mom and I are playing with the reflection.


Classic Florence skyline, the view from our campground above the city.


Another skyline view, with the Ponte Vecchio and Rio Arno. I've read rather too much historical fiction based in Florence, and my imagination loves to run amok in this city. It was the heart of the Rennaisance, and so many amazing ideas bubbled out of these neighborhoods.


A pissy looking pigeon on top of an equally pissy looking lion. Italy is filled with lion statues in all positions and moods. They all seem to have a personality of their own, but they all remind me of Oz too.



The Duomo, with some restoration scaffolding (it's getting a bath). This cathedral is unlike anything else in the world. It always sneaks up on me--you turn a corner and bam! The worlds biggest gingerbread house. At first thought it should be ugly--marble of all different colours in strips and patterns ought to be gawdy on something so huge, especially in the middle of all the browns of the historic district, but instead it's stunning and gorgeous and solemn rather than whimsical.


The duomo is far too big to actually fit into one photo, but here's another angle.


Window detail.

Madrid (squee!)

Statues at the entrance to the Museo Nacional de Arqueologia. My home away from home. I used to go every Sunday when I lived here, but because I felt compelled to read every single sign and label, I never got past the Greeks. This time I skipped straight to the Visigoths and medieval period, but still didn't have time for the Islamic period (which is still weakly represented). Someday I shall burrow through their archives and in the Biblioteca Nacional (which is housed in the same enormous building).


So Madrid happens to have a genuine Egyptian temple. Back in the...70s? this temple was threatened by a propsed dam. Rather than let it be drowned by the reservior, UNESCO got together with a bunch of countries and dismantled it, stone by stone. The Egyptian government decided to gift it to Spain, for being so damn cool (and, I think, to snub the French and British). Now it is reassembled in a park near the royal palace.


As close as I'm going to get to Egypt any time soon!


Typical building.


Las tres profesoras! My mom and her two travelling friends, some truly righteous women and my role models.

The obsession with Spanish gummies continues! And some other random photos from Laredo

I didn't actually get to drink in this bar, but I sure as heck wanted to.



So very very Secret Garden! The historic district of Laredo, a beach town near Ramales.


View from the historic battalions above the town. Mmmm...17th century? I sat up here and pretended to be on the lookout for pirates or English invaders.



A view from above Laredo. You can see the sharp line between the historic district and the beach town parts.


Gah! I love the candy stores!


Gummy snail.


Beer and our shopping spoils. The perfect end to a Saturday.


Sylvia models some of the stranger candies.

Ramales

Market day--view from living room window.


Making a Galician alcoholic...concoction. This is very serious business.


Sliced oranges, coffee beans, about a bag of sugar and a bottle and a half of the highest proof alcohol you can find. Anice if you can get it.


This is why you want the highest proof. You start be lighting a ladle-full, and then drip the flames across the rest of the pot until you have the above. Erika--we HAVE to try this on a camping trip...somewhere without low branches.


Cuddly crew!

Teaching Spaniards about roasted marshmellows. The only marshmellows we could find were these long, tube shaped ones that were pink on the outside. They cooked a little slower, and generally didn't catch fire, but were tasty.