An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Il Commissario Ricciardi

 

Introducing Il Commissario Ricciardi...

I am indebted once again to the excellent Neapolitan blogger Angelo Forgione for alerting me to the work of the Film Commission Regione Campania (FCRC) in promoting Naples and Campania as a brilliant setting for making films and TV programmes.

And that led to my discovery of a brand-new cop drama, Il Commissario Ricciardi, which started on RAI this week and which is set in the Naples of the Fascist-era 1930s.

RAI, of course, was behind the wonderful Inspector Montalbano series, arguably the best detective show of recent times – on so many levels. But while Montalbano had a particularly unorthodox knack of getting to the truth, Ricciardi seems to have his own eccentric advantage – the ability to pick up the last words and thoughts of those meeting with violent deaths.

I sincerely hope we won't have to wait too long for Ricciardi to follow in Montalbano's footsteps and make it onto UK television.

Montalbano and his men

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Il Re di Napoli

To improve my Italian and to learn more about Naples, I've been checking in to the blog of Neapolitan  journalist and author Angelo Forgione.

He writes short, sharp and pointed observations on the life of his city. His latest post referred to the tomato... but not just any tomato... it's the San Marzano tomato, famous for being cultivated since the 18th century in the volcanic soil provided by the eruptions of Vesuvius.

It's long and almost phallic and it's said to have a stronger, sweeter taste than your common-or-garden round tomato.

Forgione has even written a book about it: Il Re di Napoli (The King of Naples)... his description of "the tomato that conquered the world".

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Ancient Mariners

Not going so well... scene from The Ancient Mariner

Because I'm supposedly old and vulnerable, I've just been offered a covid vaccination... at the same time as Saga announced that it will require all those travelling on its cruises in 2021 to have a vaccination certificate.

Saga, of course, specialises in catering for old people; and cruises tend to cater for the unadventurous.

My mother, Jean, who died a couple of years ago, aged 93, was a traveller and adventurer, and her type of cruising involved hoisting the sails or a spell at the wheel; and she was not keen on the company of old people.

Her final years – in sheltered housing, care home and hospital – were particularly unenjoyable for her because, she would say, "I'm surrounded by old people". She much preferred the company of those who were younger and livelier – and preferably male.

I think I've inherited these tendencies from her – although not the "preferably male" bit...

I still want to travel but, for the moment, I have reservations about the vaccines. Fortunately, I'm not keen to be cooped up with a boatload of old people and to have everything arranged for me by someone else.

So Saga's requirements won't affect me... But it will be interesting to see how other parts of the travel industry react... and to see what happens when the old folk set sail...

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Stromboli

 

Part of my 2020 odyssey that didn't work out was to sail past the Aeolian Islands, the source of a bit of a problem that Odysseus had with winds. 

My boat from Messina in Sicily to Salerno on the west coast of Italy was cancelled at the last moment due to "technical difficulties". I suspect these may actually have been difficulties in selling enough tickets to make the journey worthwhile, since on many stages of my late-summer journey I was the only foreign traveller.

Whatever the reason, I was forced into a Plan B that took me by train from Villa San Giovanni, at the toe of Italy, north to Naples (see this blog An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 10: 8-14 September 2020).

There are seven main Aeolian Islands and I have it in mind to visit them all as part of my next trip – maybe even in this second year of the plague.

The best known of these volcanic islands are Stromboli and Vulcano. The latter hasn't erupted for over a century; but the former is far from dormant and erupts several times an hour.

If I make it to the Aeolians from Sicily, Vulcano will be my first stop and Stromboli will be my last. From there it is possible to take a boat to Naples.

Stromboli and Vulcano are also the names of two highly dramatic Italian movies from 1950 – and the story of how they came to be made is itself packed with high drama.

Stromboli is the better known of the two, not least because it gave birth to a scandalous affair between director Roberto Rossellini and his star, Ingrid Bergman. Rossellini's spurned lover, actress Anna Magnani, was furious; and while the Bergman movie was filmed on Stromboli itself, Magnani starred in her own volcano-themed movie, Vulcano, actually filmed on another Aeolian island, Salina.

So the rival explosive movies, starring the rival actresses, were filmed at the same time, on islands just a few miles apart.

It's a story that Homer could probably have done something with...

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Street Fight in Naples

 

My fascination with Naples continues from a distance... after the initial shock of the place followed quickly by being seduced by it (see this blog An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 10: 8-14 September 2020 and An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 11: 15-21 September 2020), I can't read enough about it.

And my appetite was only increased by reading Street Fight in Naples by Peter Robb, a dazzling dollop of Neapolitan history told mainly through works of art.

Two paintings in particular justifiably draw a lot of attention from Robb – and encapsulate the lightness and darkness of Naples. Both are of the city's Piazza Mercato, both are stunning and both are by Domenico Gargiulo... and they were painted within a few years of each other.

The sun-filled one from around 1654 is a massive crowd-scene masterpiece somewhere between photojournalism and Where's Wally? "The radiant sky and the purple hulk of the mountain [Vesuvius] invested the people and their dealings below with vastness and meaning," says Robb.

                                      Piazza Mercato – around 1654 

But a far grimmer picture of the same place captures the scene seven years earlier during what became known as Masaniello's Revolt – a violent popular uprising against oppressive taxation under Spanish rule. Again there is a Where's Wally? element; but this time if you look closely, you will see not the amusing antics of people and and animals on market day, but severed heads, a naked corpse hanging from a pole, and all kinds of chaos.

Masaniello's Revolt in 1647 (painted some time between then and 1652)

And what became of Piazza Mercato? Bombed in the 1940s and redeveloped unsympathetically in the 1950s, it has lost its glory. "Today it is a crowded desolation," says Robb. "Today the area does a desultory business in building and decorating materials, paint and cleaners, children's toys and fireworks."

Lightness, darkness... and madness.This is Naples...

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Vaccination

Greece, August 2020 Photo©Nigel Summerley

My 2020 odyssey had to contend with more than a few hurdles, probably the greatest being the obtaining of certificates to prove that I didn't have coronavirus. That kept me in the Greek port of Patras for four days before sailing to Italy (see this blog: An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 9: 1-7 September 2020 and An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 10: 8-14 September 2020) and in the Italian port of Bari before sailing to Greece for one of the most stressful 24 hours that I can recall (see this blog: An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 12: 22-28 September 2020).

Now this plague year of 2021 sees the possibility of having to obtain vaccination certificates before being allowed to travel in Europe. The prime minister of Greece (fearful of another huge hit to his country's economy) has asked the European Commission to consider such a move and hopes to raise the issue at an EU summit on January 21.

Right now, pending quite a few (for me) unanswered questions on the much-vaunted vaccines, those hard-won certificates of negative coronavirus test results still look more appealing.

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Gomorrah

 

One of the highlights of last year's trip in the wake of Odysseus was a visit to the entrance to the Underworld – at Lake Avernus (see this blog, An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 10: 8-14 September 2020).

But the entrance to another underworld was only a few miles away to the west... Naples, home of the Comorra, the Neapolitan mafia.

The corruption, cruelty and misery associated with the city's criminal shadow world was documented by the journalist Roberto Saviano, putting his own life at continual risk.

I have since read his shocking book Gomorrah... the exposé that meant he subsequently had to live under 24-hour security protection.

Take in his book, watch the documentary about his life on the run (on Netflix) and then decide if you would want to visit Naples. I certainly can't wait to return to this most vibrant of cities... but I will now see it in a new light – and a new darkness.

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Islands

 

Monte Circeo, island of Circe Photo©Nigel Summerley

I make no apology for mentioning again the wonderful book Siren Land – because among author Norman Douglas's countless pointed observations is one on the nature of islands... and the fact that they are not always necessarily islands.

His comments chime with my experience of the sublime shapeshifter Monte Circeo, today a headland in southern Italy but, in the far distant past, probably an island.

Or perhaps not. And does it matter?

Douglas says: "I cannot help thinking that commentators of the Homeric cosmography take the 'islands' too seriously, and thereby involve themselves in needless trouble. Ancient navigators were inordinately fond of islands, and slow sailing without a compass may well turn an indented coastline or promontory into a group of them. This is plain from Sindbad the Sailor...

"People living on continents are more likely to locate marvels in islands – India and America were also 'islands'; so was Paradise, according to Lambertus Floridus; to say nothing of Atlantis – and the ingenious Pelliccia has written a book to prove that the whole Sorrentine peninsula was likewise an island in olden days. 

"He argues thus: the Sirens dwelt at Capri; Circe, the enchantress, lived on another island near at hand; therefore Sorrento must have been the island of Circe – falsifying geography and geology in order to vindicate a prehistoric sailor's yarn. What strange creatures we are, placing more faith in deductions than in facts..."

My own encounter with Monte Circeo (recounted in this blog – in An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 11: 15-21 September 2020) pretty much convinced me that this – not the nearby island of Ponza, and certainly not the Sorrentine peninsula – was the island of Circe. Even though it is not geographically an island.

But look from a distance at the shimmering beauty of Circeo in the setting sun, or at its hazy presence beneath a stormy sky, and all you will see is an alluring island...

Monte Circeo, island of Circe                                                 Photo©Nigel Summerley

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – An Offering

 

Wall mosaic in Ithaca            Photo©Nigel Summerley

I recently shared with Jane Cochrane, author of the brilliant book Odysseus' Island, this picture of a mural I saw on Ithaca. The colours reminded me of Jane's own beautiful illustration for her book cover.

She tells me: "ΕΥΧΗΝ ΟΔYCCΕΙ apparently means 'an offering to Odysseus’. It is the message on the fragment of clay from an ancient mask found in Loizos’ Cave at Polis Bay, now in the Stavros Museum that is so often shut – as it was when you visited." 

I remember archaeologist Andronikos Sakkatos telling me when I met him at the site of Odysseus's Palace last October that Ithacans were accustomed to make an offering to Odysseus – their local hero – before setting off on a journey.

And I recall too that "ΕΥΧΗΝ ΟΔYCCΕΙ" was inscribed at the entrance to the apartment that I stayed in on Ithaca.

It is gratifying to know that Jane and Andronikos are now in touch with each other to look at the possibility of mutual support in helping to bring about improvements to the Palace site, near Stavros, in northern Ithaca.

So let this connection – and this picture – be another "offering to Odysseus"... for another successful journey...

Photo©Nigel Summerley