Brother Frank and Sister Clare

Assisi was as unforgettable as I remember it, except that in 1964 we were there during a very cold Winter and in November 2008 I couldn't have chosen a better time to go. The tourist level was minimal and the weather divine.

Taking the train also took me through the Umbrian landscape and alongside Lake Trassimeno, a leisurely journey involving a number of unexplained pauses. At times I found myself inspecting whole life cycles of different insects as they lived and died alongside the track we waited patiently upon. There was also the unusual experience of traveling through so many hillside tunnels in an unlit carriage. All around in the pitch black mobile phone screens glowed but one could only sense, not see the presence of their users. Last week at the Conference a few of the Africans complained of the 'third-world' issues which inhibit their uptake of technology. I didn't like to say so but Italy doesn't seem terribly distant from a lot of these problems either, although the ongoing presence of the Roman and Medieval past makes up in charm for a lot of the frustrations.








I caught this pic on the hop, amongst all the real live nuns and monks:

In Assisi the Bollywood level cult of St Francis and St Clare was fascinating. There are representations of one or both of them either in the body, or as relics, or sculptures in all of the many churches. In the Upper Church of the Basilica di San Francesco is an amazing three-sided sequence of Giotto frescoes of the life of St Francis (and St Clare in her place) which completely surrounds you as you walk in. I sneaked a few illicit pictures where I could by turning off my camera flash and shooting from the hip.





There's even a musical:



This week I've been taking in the cultural ambiance and gallerying gaily. J organised a reserved ticket for me at the Uffizi so I needn't join the snaking queue of people outside and down the street. The Uffizi is of course the grandmother of all Florentine art museums and has its Botticelli and Caravaggio collection to prove it. But it also has some lovely Rembrandts, and lots of pictures from the Flemish school. I always like them the most. The other place that I loved is the Gozzoli Chapel, and the Magi's journey painted by Gozzoli onto the enormous walls of the Chapel. For those who don't know of it this fresco is actually a political pilgrimage through the Tuscan landscape and a portrait of its times. All of the prominent Medici men and their friends and allies are painted into it.

I've also developed quite an interest in the African street sellers who I'm told are employed by the mafiosi. They wait outside the Bars and Newsagents flogging off weird plastic stuff or Chinese tea towels, or some other cheap rubbish one couldn't imagine a market for although lately they're usefully laden with umbrellas because there's been so much rain. When I caught the train to Assisi there were at least a dozen of these men bearing identical knotted plastic bundles, who all got out at Perugia. Because of their constant presence in the streets and aggression towards passersby they've turned themselves into a racial issue. I understand Berlusconi got back into power this time because of his promise to do something about all the illegal Africans. Their female counterparts are old gypsy women begging in the streets. I see the same women in the same places all the time. Today there was one poor old thing apparently glad-wrapped on the cathedral steps.

The main Florence hospital is near here and all day there's a soundscape of ambulanza going by the apartment, sometimes accompanied by wailing polizia and caribinieri if the traffic is very heavy. On one occasion I saw uniformed men sitting up on the window ledges of their cars, waving their little paddles at the traffic. This apparently stops cars from colliding with one another although it's unclear how.

And now by popular request:


Tomorrow I'm off to Venice. I'm dreading it.. more water everywhere.