Promised Volterra

I have many eclectic lists, dear to my heart – of books to read, of films to watch, of articles to study, of places to go – and I’ll have to live much over 100 to do it all. But one thing is certain: I’ve got Volterra down, and I’m grateful I’d caught the whiff on the net that brought me there.

It’s quite far from me, as things go, that’s why I’ve only been there for the first time two weeks ago with my uncle, after Castiglioncello. It’s another of these bragging towns on a hill, flaunting it, not afraid in the least of some Turks, for example. Oh Italia, where are you taking your cheek from? Could it be all the way from the times when the Roman Empire ruled the world?

I’ve just finished the Neapolitan series by Elena Ferrante which starts with “My Brilliant Friend”. All four books went by in a flash. It is one thing reading this in the comfort of your own home which is NOT in Italy, and quite another to be right here, although not in Naples where the story takes place.

And just now, by accident, I’ve discovered that the true identity of the author, who has been writing under a pseudonym, is revealed. A journalist tracked her down by large payments her publishing house was placing on her account. She is working as a translator for this publishing house. Somebody followed the money in search of the name everybody was wondering about.

One thing is for certain: Napoli never forgets. Alas, her family moved from Napoli to Roma when she was three years old. Still, let’s just hope she doesn’t have any young grandchildren. Or he.

Volterra, on the other hand, is not even close. Let’s go there instead.

After Castiglioncello we went directly from this…

…to this. Really, I took these two photos back to back.

This is how colourless it was a couple of weeks ago.

But it’s about to start greening again. Humidity means mushrooms, but also mould.

A glorious sight of Volterra. The wall is a prison wall though, probably I shouldn’t even photograph it.

The year things ended…

…or began.

Opposite the prison.

The park with the outer wall full of moss.

I was tempted to deploy the bestia, it was forbidden though.

Eye-catching.

There was a fair in town and they gave us the porchetta.

The crowds were such that I had to leave uncle and bestia behind.

But I mostly looked up, it seems.

Some of Volterra’s many fine windows.

Bye-bye, Volterra, you are lovely. We shall return, but on a quieter day.

Photo: a © signature mmm production