Ravello!

The end of the pier seemed safe. There were no ominous ripples in the dark waters, no strange rumblings from the deep, no strange visions or dreams from the great old ones. So we sat, watching the lights turn on in the streets and over the cliff faces. On the shore Tchaikovsky's nuts were being cracked by a junior ballet troop in what looked to be a full dress rehearsal. Amalfi was apparently peaceful and calm.

Amalfi from the pier.

Despite all the lights and amplified sounds of the town, we walked into a hotel plunged into a mysterious darkness. The concierge assured us that it was a temporary power loss, and all would be normal in 10 minutes. He didn't say, "this is another manifestation of the old ones." He showed the outer reassurance expected of a professional in a difficult position.

I value the pluck of these locals. The power dropped out 3 times before midnight, each instance taking 10-15 minutes to restore. Not once was anyone panicked enough to run screaming into the night. We closed the shutters to block out the image of the black Mediterranean and slept fitfully, determined to play the roles of simple tourists despite our knowledge of the imminent Lovecraftian threats.

Amalfi has a cathedral and a museum that show the grandeur and power of historic Amalfi.

The Original Smart Car.

Inside the cathedral, where walls are covered with signs and protections against the dark ones.

St. Andrew - looking very holy and not at all creepy unless you notice he's carrying his own cross.

An open topped bus with audio guides took us up to Ravello, high in the coastal hills, a favorite holiday spot for the rich, famous and artistic types.

Ravello city square and (yet another) cathedral.

 We wandered into the Villa Rufolo to browse the peaceful gardens and art installations.

 

Amidst the tranquil innocence of the gardens stood an abomination -- a bestial nightmarish distortion of humanity displayed in full view for all.

A sanity threatening statue in plain view.

We fled the place, returning to the relative safety of Amafi for food and wine and sunshine. Thus comforted we returned to the hotel, only to notice another instance of Smurfication. Just how widespread is this practice?

In which normal town lives are miniaturised and locked in stasis.

Everything's going so well!

Arrivederci Roma.

Up, breakfast, pack, clean up, down to station, find platform, board train, smooth trip to Salerno. Got help from a helpful local on the station who led us down to the ferry and helped with suitcases. One doesn't mind the occasional street begger when they don't just ask for money, they help you find where you want to go and go out of their way to make sure you get there. That's providing a service.

Sunny Salerno - lovely fresh lemon slushies. Pity they couldn't do hot cups of tea for dad.

Everything so bright and fresh and innocent with no hint of sinister undertones. None at all.

 It was a beautiful day for the ferry cruise from Salerno to Amalfi, hardly any swell, ferry at less than 10% capacity, a day when nothing was going to go wrong. Off the ferry, short walk, check into hotel. Rooms are very nicely presented and comfortable. They said there'd be wifi and there is.

There's an angel watching over us, from above the bed. (Maybe ceiling cat peers through the eyes.)

The view from our window. So peaceful, so relaxing. Making you feel that all is right with the world.

Tiny city square outside the cathedral. Everything built on the up and down.

Al fresco afternoon tea.

 Amalfi is like a breath of fresh air. Happy locals providing holiday fare for tourists. Ice creams, coffee, pizza, limoncello, souvenirs, fabrics, etc. We went exploring round behind the post office, and found a little cave-like pedestrian tunnel that went under the cathedral and round a few dark corners and eventually came out at the main square again. Everything was going so well in this safe tidy town, where nobody mentions the things that happen just a bit further up the hill.

Lyn decided she wanted to go further up the hill. As the touristy shops became less frequent, with the bon vivant bustle of commerce faded, the narrow street holding off the Mediterranean sun, we turned a corner. *cue dramatic music* There it was. A Smurficator. This was what the townsfolk were deliberately ignoring.

The Smurficator. An ancient art form banned throughout the continent.

We went back down the hill. We had gelati to deal with.

Fan Art and Pop Culture

Today we did an early morning jaunt to Vatican City. We were careful not to buy rosary beads from the vendors on the streets, because we'd heard that these weren't authentic rosary beads. I mean, imagine how you'd feel if you got home and found your beads didn't work, and you couldn't get service and support from the Vatican. I bet it's one of the first things they ask on the rosary help desk: "did you buy authentic beads from the Vatican shop?" Then if you answer yes, they ask you for the serial number. (And you can't just use one of the cracked serial numbers downloaded from the net; they've already blacklisted them.)

Cool story, bro

The piazza outside of St Pete's shows just how much you can get done with a vision and a little bit of help from people who want eternal rewards (and some that weren't given a choice). It also reminds one that one can steal whatever one likes from other countries and erect it in honour of one's deity, and by right of self-acknowledged rightness and the implicit approval of one's deity, it becomes "not stealing but preserving for everyone's edification". (The same trick works with a national identity substituted for a deity.) Anyway, nice obelisk, dudes.

Columns and fountains. Size matters.

Still, I shouldn't be applying modern morality ideas (like respect for another nation's sovereignty) to ancient practices. Times were different then. We shouldn't expect timeless unchanging stability of moral values or anything, should we.

While walking though one of the Vatican museums I overheard a guide saying that a lot of Roman art included young children and wine - because they found the idea of drunken children amusing. Whether this was true or not didn't matter to me as much as the idea that a lot more of this antiquity overload was the humorous pop culture of the day. We think of the great artists of the past as mostly very serious people, but they were still people and their humour had to show through. One also must realise that a lot of we think of as high art was just fan art of the day. Bernini was happy to sculpt fan art of Ovid, Virgil, biblical stories, etc. Is it too much to see a kind of Mary-Sue-ism when an artist puts his own features on his rendition of David?

Italy's funniest home videos: kid caught in fountain

Ewwww! I think I stepped in something nasty.

BRB, off for quiet smoke.

Hmmm. What's a 6 letter word for three-dimensional representation of a person?

Om nom nom

Nice looking liver you got there...

Curious cat is curious about what walks on 4 legs...

Om nom nom nom nom

The after-lunch adventure was to the Borghese Gallery. (I wonder if any of today's cardinals are as liberal as Scipione Borghese.)

O RLY?

I might just make like a tree

DO NOT WANT

Scooby snacks? Where?

How to be a zombie

Today we subjected ourselves to Roman mind control. The Roman mind controller places an arcane pendant around your neck and commands you to place a magical bulb in your ear, the root of which is attached to the pendant. That process turns you into a zombie-like slave, hearing her commands through the ear-bulb and responding as best as you can. Whatever the mind controller tells you to do, you do, even if it means walking for kilometers in the blazing sun, climbing steps of ancient ruins, or creeping into darkened tombs. Her compulsion over you is complete until she has completely worn you out. At that point she reclaims her implements of control and goes to seek out other victims. You are left in one of Rome's famous zombie dumping grounds, staring at a fountain, longing to plunge into its coolness, but having not the willpower left to do so.

During this grueling ordeal, I overcame the control long enough to snap some of the places on my camera (or was I commanded to do so? It seems like a blur now).

An amphitheatre where mind controllers parade their mind slaves

An epic mind controller of the past who controlled hundreds of thousands of mind slaves

Our mind controller wasn't cruel. She allowed us to purchase and consume gelati here.

What's this? An alien mind control ray attempting to steal slaves?

Should we seek the escape of alien enlightenment, or bear the yoke of our Roman controller?

We, as empty husks, stare at the fountain, and stare...

Mostly Rome

We came. We sore. We crumpled.

So far, Rome has been the almost-right city. Our apartment was ready for us, clean, mostly functional, unoccupied, but the bit about "internet available" in the blurb should have translated as "internet available if we haven't got all the other modems in use in different apartments, so can you wait till the day before you leave?"

The lounge room light turns on, but I found it confusing to turn off - until I realised that the electrician had wired it up with two switches on the same plate, either one of which will power the light. It's only after you've turned both switches off at once that the light goes out.

The kitchen has sponges and dish detergent but no tea towel; microwave and toaster but no kettle; bath towels and hand towels but no face-washers.

In the half hour+ that we waited in the Termini ticket office queue we chatted with other travelers. They'd had similar experiences with trying to book train trips from Rome: you interact with a web page that seems like it should enable you to book your tickets, then once your expectations have been raised it forces you to go stand in queues at the station.

Rome was almost right, so we left Rome for the afternoon and entered an extraterritorial region within Italian territory (at least according to the Lateran Treaty): the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore.

St Someone shows his light sabre style.

Little boy kneels at the foot of the crypt.

You say cherub; I say protocol droid.

MC Escher woz ere

 

St Someone ponders limbo - and whether his hat will be a handicap.

We took the scenic route back - a 2 hour sight-seeing open top bus tour. There are at least 6 different bus companies that run these tours (we counted them while waiting for the right bus). Each one provides a fleet of buses doing a loop of the city, and each one has their own pre-recorded documentary about the sights. Of course, on our tour the driver got his button presses mucked up and for a while we got the previous commentary segment voiced over the current scenes. I guess you'd say it was almost right.

Time to dust off the old travel blog

Yes, Lyn and Philip are getting ready to travel again, back to the anti-antipodes, but this time with a Mediterranean focus. We'll post pictures and observations here as we go, and link them from FaceBook for those who wish to follow from there.

For any aspiring burglars out there, the house won't be empty. We'll be leaving our (kung-fu-enhanced) attack-droid to look after the house. Be very scared.