God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen- Now underway......

https://youtu.be/Lze4LmsguX8

'God rest ye merry gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
Remember Christ our Savior
Was born on Christmas Day
To save us all from Satan's pow'r
When we were gone astray
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Oh tidings of comfort and joy'

I wake up. It's pitch black. Dead of night? Or just before first light? Who knows? There is no sound. I strain my ears but apart from the odd passing car there's nothing.

It's late December now. Still cold, (relatively speaking 14 degrees) sometimes wet but essentially calm. The puppies are not howling, barking -or in fact doing anything. They are gone. Prayers answered. I lay back down and savour the moment. Tidings of Comfort and joy indeed!

Back to Life, Back to Reality

'I live at the top of the block

No more trouble and fuss

  Need a change, a positive change

  Look, it's me writing on the wall'.

Soul To Soul: Back to Life

'It's dark. I'm awake. It's 4am, though I don't know it yet! My husband is not beside me. He returns to tell me that we have a new life.

It's early September and I've just returned from Scotland a few hours ago, after a busy week catching up with family and friends. 

Flying back aren't we always suspended between two very different lives: one calm and contemplative and another proactive and productive? 

Two very different selves. For me the contrast could not be more stark and the transition, therefore not always easy to make. My holiday days consisting of relaxed pyjama -mornings drinking coffee followed by tea-dressed afternoons drinking  (you guessed!) more coffee. Contrast my normal  frantic days of work and  lots of dog-walking.

However when the wheels of the plane hit the ground at Napoli, I'm ready. With summer sun  setting on my final week of freedom, I'm hitting the ground running. I'm well and truly back. Back to life, back to reality.

Back to my living-room. Our beautiful dog is now a mother. Her first-born lies beside her. Tiny, tiny; the size of a guinea pig. Molto carino- as Italians would say. He is perfect. In the absence of a birthing-pool, is forced to improvise with an Ikea setee and settles in for the long haul. The final puppy breathes new life at 11am.

Furry fantasy or canine calamity? For certain, a reality for which I must take full responsibility. Little John, Loxley, Maltilda, Maid Marion, Will Scarlet, Eleanora & Tuck. The products of  my delayed sterilisation of Deborah. Consequences of my irresponsibilty?  Blessings to seven good people? The pressing need to find good homes for every one weighs heavily on my shoulders. Only God can help me now!

'Back to life, back to the present time

                                                     Back from a fantasy, yes

                                                    Tell me now take the initiative

                                             I'll leave in your hands, until you are ready'

                                                    Soul To Soul: Back to Life

A Guid Samaritan

It's early morning. I'm in the kitchen. It's early November and the window is wide open - well that's Southern Italy for you! The church bells are chiming. Normally a welcome sound but not when your kitchen now doubles as your recording studio! Yes since September  I've a radio show where I can play all my favourite music. Sometimes indeed 'Heaven can be a place on earth' And indeed it would seem that the divine did play a part in bringing all this about. Let me take you back.

 

Back to a cool Spring evening in a small village called Lochearnhead. I'm standing on the side of the main road with my husband, Enzo. Our bags are stacked in a pile on the pavement, with a bouquet of flowers atop (for my mum) We are only 5 miles away from her home. However it seems much further away as the road darkens and the passing cars decrease. My husband was getting desperate. 

Clearly it was time to pull out all the stops and  dig deep into my bag of tricks. But could I produce what we really required? An Uber Ace card?? Am I a magician???? Clearly not! All I could pull out was paper and pen. All I could think of was to write the name of my village 'KILLIN' in big letters. Taking up my pavement position once again with this unreadable sign. I was clearly hoping for a miracle. Yes, readers, I was living on prayer.   

  And yet after about only 10 minutes my Crusader knights came into sight. They were Ed. Cullun & Lindsay aboard their trusty steed. Their Trossachs Transporter.  

By the time we are passing through Glenogle I've discovered that they had travelled far and wide. Their Trossachs news had reached the whole of the known world via their radio station. Then I called mum and gave my ETA. The feeling of relief that then encompassed me is one I'll never forget!                                                                              A month ago I finally had the opportunity to play the guid Samaritan myself. When an abandoned dog in my village was threatened with removal to the Canile I stepped in and offered him a home. Johnny came bounding into my life to replace the huge chasm  left by the death of Lara. Strangers can of course very quickly become friends. Ed and I have forged our friendship over a deep spiritual conversation one sunny Sunday afternoon. Johnny when he ran behind my mini in distress thinking I was leaving him. 

 

The words of advice  'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby  some have entertained angels unawares' from Hebrews 13 came home to me. Indeed where would I be now without the kindness of strangers?  I could still be on that dark road in Lochearnhead.  Instead I'm in my kitchen with Johnny's head on my lap recording my radio show. In the words of Ed 'Och aye (my life) it  is guid!'

Trip To Tarquinia

 'Hey Johnie Cope! Are you waukin' yet?Are your drums abeating yet?'

Adam Skirving, 1745

I am woken by the sound of drumming. Gentle but deliberate. It's still dark. August 28th- just! Yes, it's the rain.The sound of September indeed. But early. I lie in bed. The drumming becomes louder. My marching orders: Rinse and refresh. Spritz and sparkle. Splash and dash!

The stormy shores of Sardinia are but a distant memory. Time to make more. Time to plan my next trip. My trip to Tarquinia.

So where and why Tarquinia? Tarquinia is about 90km from Rome and was one of the main cities of the Etruscan people, an ancient race who lived and flourished in the centre of Italy, long before the Romans came on the scene. They take their name from the 'Etrusci' which is the name the Romans gave them, which is also the origin of 'Tuscany', the centre of their civilisation. The peoples called themselves 'Rasenna'. The Etruscan civilisation flourished between 750-400BC and was incredibly prosperous. They were a seagoing people forging links all over the Mediterranean. They also had  a strong army and were a warrior race.

Unfortunately  very little of ancient Tarquinia remains and I must confess that I was disappointed on arrival. A typical modern Italian city   greets you with a large carpark in the centre. Find the change, feed the machine and walk on as there is still much awaiting that will impress!

I would move swiftly on to the mueum which is housed in the ancient Vitelleschi Palace. This museum is one of the most important in Italy,  and here I guarantee you will be impressed.  

The museum is on three floors:

On the ground floor you can view the massive stone sarcophagi dating back from the 4th century BC

On the first floor there is an interesting collection of objects showing   the evolution of Greek and Etruscan painting. 

 

Continuing in the following rooms you can admire some valuable locally produced ceramic and metal artefacts.

 The jewelery may  be old  (over 3000 years) but its design is bold and could easily be sold today.  

On the second and last floor are the air-conditioned rooms that house the painted tombs and frescoes . In this section  you can view  the most famous piece of the whole museum, a unique work in the world,  the Winged Horses, also coming from the Ara della Regina.The Ara della Regina stood on the highest point of the acropolis, and was used for prayers and sacred rite. They are 1.15 meters high and 1.25 meters wide, and the sculpture was placed on the pediment of the temple. Winged creatures to marvel at for a long time!

Finally you must awaken and hasten on to the necropolises.A world heritage site with 6000 tombs, 62 of which are decorated. They are situated at Tarquinia itself and at nearby Cerveteri (the best selection) They range from the 9th to the 1st centuries BC.

 At Cerveteri, known as Banitaccia, we have an urban but largely underground arrangement of tombs, with streets, small squares and neighbourhoods. In fact the Etruscans created the first urban culture in the western Mediterranean, surviving for around  700 years, from the 8th to the 1st century BC in central Italy.

 

These necropolises have been described as 'masterpieces of creative genius' and the tomb paintings are impressive both for their artistic quality and for what they tell us about Etruscan life, death and religious beliefs. The tombs themselves resemble Etruscan homes- of varying sizes depending on the wealth and status of their owners.

If only walls can.....! I let them do so below.

I'm sure that you will agree that they give us an unique testimony to this facscinating forgotten people and their vanished culture. So when in Rome and after the drum beats of autumn, mount your steed. And haste ye on. On to Tarquinia. 

 

 

 

 

Braking Hard.

It's early June now. It's 12.50pm. I'm sitting in a school cafe in Caserta drinking lemon tea. Outside the sun is shining brightly on the trees in the garden. The only sound is the reassuring hum of the A/C unit. There's no-one here.

Another academic year is drawing to a close. This has probably been my busiest one yet; you name it and I've taught it. Thursday has been the most frantic: 3 schools, 2 subjects, 2 towns! And of course when I got to Caserta station it was still 3 o'clock. Some things never change eh!

Yet other things inevitably have and progress has been made on many fronts-
not least the Italian one! Yes, you guessed it! I am not only in possession of a B1 certificate in Italian but also of citizenship. It's taken 2 and a half years and been quite a journey.

Time now surely to take a well-earned break. In fact Sardinia in 10 days is the next station stop. Hopefully I will be going at half-steam by then. The only thing I can say now is that I'm breaking hard!

It's no easy feat though and it takes some time.

When the brakes are applied to a passenger train travelling at 80 miles an hour, the engine will travel a further  mile before it stops.

The beauty of braking is that whilst slowing down you can look back along the tracks.  So beyond the poppy fields and misted mountains, what do I see?

The face of my dear and faithful friend of 18 years. Boris. Now at rest in the garden he made his own.

The finished bathroom. A project so long in the making. Now a daily joy!

Still braking hard, I try to map out future travel. Inevitably I will revisit some familiar destinations but there will also be  new station stops. Half-hidden  now in clouds of steam most of them being quite a bit further down the line.

A steam brake acts directly and immediately.The sudden opening of the brake valve can easily result in overbraking by locking the wheels. Theoperation of a steam brake therefore requires a great deal of experience from the engine driver. As Carlin stated:

'When you step on the brakes your life is in your foot's hands'.

Braking hard indeed is no mean feat! I just count on my long experience on life's tracks and my tried and tested travelling shoes. Next stop Sardinia!

                                         

 

Full Steam Ahead -Avanti A Tutto Vapore

It's New Year's Eve and I'm homeward bound. 

Sludge- trudging done, I can finally head back to warmer climes. Through the window the sun is already a glowing orange orb and soon the last daylight of 2022 will be gone. Another year has hurtled past us.  Where has all the time gone eh!

Readers you left me in September travelling at full tilt and - as you have guessed from the title- I've continue in similar fashion.. During the autumn I've blasted down roads and railways to see temples, churches, monasteries, ancestral homes, amphitheatres and even dancing horses.

It's not been an easy ride. On the way I've sometimes been travelling at half-steam. We've been delayed by burst boilers and flooding, cracked ceilings and falling plaster and freezing fridges and iced lattes. Yet still I've steamed on.

Sometimes I've travelled faster than time itself. Often waiting in Caserta station for the last train home at 8.30pm whilst the clock told me it was 3pm. I barely noticed this, though as cappucino in hand I was completing yet another practice exam question. Yes, it was the dreaded Italian Citizenship Exam that I was preparing for. Scribbling furiously, 

I knew that time for me was running out. Exam Day was almost upon me!

                      *******************

Up at 5am I kept going at full tilt to the end. I just hoped that I'd stay awake until I completed all the papers! As the Italians say: 'Il buon giorno si vede dal Mattino' (A good day begins in the morning) However already at  9am things were not looking very promising! 

Having arrived before the invigilators I already had some misgivings. My doubts increased on learning that the only toilet was out of order. Crammed around 5 large tables, I soon realised that my bladder would not be the only distraction. My 'tablemate' to the left kept interupting me to ask for help, whilst my companion opposite's eyes kept moving between the exam paper and her mobile phone.

  'A Chi da'l il dito si prende anche il braccio'. (Give an inch and they'll take a mile) With fools to the left of me and jokers to the right and no usable toilet in sight, it wasn't long before my head was pounding.

Luckily I had just enough fuel on board to go full thortle. There was never such a good time to advance a tutto vapore! 

                                     ********************** 

 

A month on. With no blood on the tracks, I can look back and laugh. What a year 2022 has been. I've certainly covered a lot of track. As the legendary journalist Clarkson puts it: 'Speed has never killed anyone'. Yet after a long rocky ride through 2022 I 've decided to apply the brakes.

As the Italian proverb advises: 'Chi va piano va sano e va lontano'. (He who goes slowly, goes safely and far)

2023: The new journey begins. I wish you a good one. God speed! Who knows? We may need it!