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Published: August 19th 2023
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When I first stumbled across Monopoli as somewhere we might visit, all I could think of was Mayfair, and Go Directly to Jail - Do Not Pass Go - Do Not Collect £200 Salary. I thought I’d just about got past that when Emma rang up last night and asked us where we were. When we told her we were in Monopoli she started laughing and assumed we’d just made the name up.
Our beloved daughter is probably not a world authority on Mediterranean coastal travel destinations. Still, it does nevertheless seem that this part of Italy is not all that well known internationally relative to other seaside destinations around the Med. Apparently something like 75% of the tourists on Spain’s Costa del Sol are international, but that number would struggle to get to 20% here. And how do we know this (well aside from the minor detail of just about everyone looking and sounding Italian)? Well just about everyone here practises the apparently uniquely Italian trait of “passeggiata”. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines this as “a traditional evening stroll in the central plaza by a town’s residents”. Barbie told us about it in conversation last night when we noticed how
hard it was to get anywhere even moderately quickly when we were walking along any crowded alleyways … which incidentally here is all of them. And why is this, well because virtually everyone ambles casually along at almost exactly the same very slow pace. This behaviour is so consistent that I think it must be a compulsory subject in all Italian primary schools - teachers with stop watches, and if you walk even just slightly too quickly, or a little bit too slowly, well it’s off to the naughty corner with you. And I think I might need to pen a short note to Mr Merriam and Mr Webster - they certainly need to do some work on broadening their definition. If what we’ve experienced here is anything to go by I’d be encouraging something along the lines of “a traditional stroll anywhere at anytime by anyone with any discernible Italian heritage”. There; that ought to just about cover it.
Issy heads off to the hairdresser and comes back vaguely recognisable, so the Google Translator must have been at least partially effective. That’s a relief.
We’ve been here for nearly a week now in an apartment overlooking the sand, so I think it’s time at least one of us got our feet wet. And my mission’s a success. The water’s pleasant, the bottom’s sandy, and I don’t think I kicked sand in anyone’s face as I picked my way carefully through the sea of bodies to the water.
We have a lazy day, but my itchy feet eventually need scratching so I head off to the museum under the Basilica. It’s as much an archaeological site as anything else. There’s apparently evidence in the excavations here of human habitation dating back to 1500 BC. There’s also the remains of the crypt of the 12th century version of the Cathedral, which was apparently built on the ruins of an earlier church. A lot of the signage is only in Italian so I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking at. One of the deeper rooms is a small chapel with creepy looking white hooded figures guarding either side of an altar. They look like something straight out of the Ku Klux Klan. But that’s not the scariest thing down here. That would be the middle aged Italian lady who gives me a severe telling off for taking pictures of the creepy looking guys. Huh? She’s not even an official, just another visitor, and if there are signs here saying they’ll lock you up and throw away the key if you take a happy snap they’re not particularly conspicuous. I wonder if I’ll be guarded by some of the creepy looking guys wearing white hoods. So I’m not quite sure what that was all about, but whatever it was I think now might be a good time to leave.
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RENanDREW
Ren & Andrew
Arty skills
I'm hoping to eventually see some of Issy's work as I make my way through your blogs :)