A site for sore eyes

Rosalind in the entrance to the Hotel Art in Rome.
It was quite easy to find the road to Rome it is a motorway that was well indicated at the airport. As we exited the motorway my erstwhile navigation became more apparent and Adam’s speed, the ever-changing names of the same bit of road and Italian drivers did not help. However Adam has an in-built Global Positioning System and works on the basis of driving fast enough for long enough we will end up where we want. The scary thing is that it seems to work.

Rosalind in the entrance to the Hotel Art in Rome.
On the way to the hotel we saw the Colosseum in front of us, it was a pity that someone has ‘wrecked’ it. It was the first, but not the last time, that the phrase ‘the Griswalds see Europe’ was used and reflected the speed with which we saw in passing some of the ‘sights of Europe’.
The Via Margutta on which the hotel is located is a very narrow cobbled street and parking did not look promising.
When we arrived at the hotel at about 10.00 the staff told us that the hotel had no parking and it was up to us. Adam parked in front of a closed shop right next to the entrance and thought we would just see if we could get away with it. Our rooms were not quite ready, so we sat and had coffee in the dining room. The hotel is a converted church/monastery, the conversion is very modern and each floor of the hotel has a very bright fluoro colour theme. Set into the floor of the corridors is subdued lighting featuring the colour theme and there is an increase in the amount of light whenever anyone enters the corridor. Very high tech! We were very impressed with the quality of the rooms, the hotel, and it’s very central location.
It was decided that we should go for a walk to help overcome any jet lag and get value from our first day in Rome.
Ah Rome the eternal city. The first settlements in the region can be traced back to the early Etruscan civilization in northern Lazio. Rome grew to be a vast empire and, as the empire began to divide, the region became the centre of the Christian world. Artists and architects flocked to work for the popes and their families, notably in the Renaissance and Baroque periods when some magnificent architectural works were created. The legacy of this uninterrupted history can be seen all over the city and the surrounding area. The capitol, the southern summit of the Capitoline Hill, was the symbolic centre of the Roman world and home to the city’s three most important temples. These were dedicated to the god Jupiter, Optimus Maximus, protector of Rome; Minereva, goddess of wisdom and war; and Juno Moneta, a guardian goddess. Below the capitol lies the forum, once the focus of political, social, legal and commercial life; the Imperial Forum built when Rome’s population grew; and the Colosseum, the centre of entertainment. Overlooking the Forum is the Palatine Hill, where Romulus is said to have founded Rome in the 8th Century BC, and the place where the emperors lived for over 400 years. Michelangelo designed the capitol, citadel of ancient Rome, in the 16th century. He was responsible for the trapezoid Piazza del Campidoglio as well as the Cordonata, the broad flight of stairs leading up to it. Both the Palazzo Nuovo and Palazzo dei Conservatori, housing the Capitoline Museums, with their fine collection of sculptures and paintings, flank the piazza. It is also well worth walking behind the museums to the Tarpeian Rock, for a great view of the forum below.
We wandered along towards the Spanish Steps and along the streets that featured all the fashion names such as Prada, Dolce & Gabbana, Ferragamo etc etc.
Rosalind in Rome with her Ferragammo bag.
We found ourselves in the square that contains the Trevi fountain, which was pleasing as it is one of the ‘must see’ locations and we just found it by accident. There was some work being done on the fountains so much of the fountain was not working but it did not stop the crowds and us enjoying the fountain pool and sculptures. We decided that we all needed to throw obligatory coins into the fountain to ensure our return one-day.


The only person who had any coins was Rosalind so they were distributed and Adam and I threw ours in over the heads of some of the crowd. Rosalind and Sheila’s first attempts failed because of their ‘girlie’ throws. I showed them a way in which they could get closer and at the next attempt they went in ok. Four Thai baht in the fountain. We walked around some more and as it was quite warm it was good to stop and have lunch and some cold drinks in an open-air café. Lunch was my first introduction to Panini that is basically an Italian sandwich, but a vast improvement on the British version; it is a large ‘roll’ with a huge number of filling options.
We returned to the Hotel Art about 12.30 and agreed to meet up again in the foyer at 14.30 so we could go to the Musei Vaticani (Vatican Museum) and see the Sistine Chapel. Adam thought it would be a good idea to walk to the Musei Vaticani, but I was pleased when the ladies thought a taxi was a better idea as it was further away than we thought. The entrance fee was 10 Euro each and we went in at 15.14. We were a little concerned that we would not see the Sistine Chapel before the museum closed so Adam set off at a cracking pace, a man on a mission, with me struggling to keep up and Rosalind and Sheila a long way behind. Adam and I went through a number of corridors like a whirlwind with fleeting glimpses of tapestries etc on the way.
The massive walls of the Sistine Chapel, the main chapel in the Vatican Palace were frescoed by some of the finest artists of the 15th and 16th centuries. The 12 paintings on the sidewalls are by artists including Perugino, Ghirlandaio, Botticelli and Signorelli. In the years 1508-1512 Michelangelo frescoed the ceilings with scenes from Genesis and the altar wall with the Last Judgement in the years 1534 –1541. It was only in 1993 after a year’s restoration that the Last Judgement was it seen with something like the vibrant colours with which they were first painted. Michelangelo’s self portrait is on the skin held by the martyr St Bartholomew. Cardinals when electing a new pope use the chapel, something that I guess will be on the agenda soon. It was interesting to learn of the way in which Michelangelo had the end walls shaped so that they sloped down from a narrower top to a broader base to help with the observer’s perspective.
The chapel was quite crowded and there were signs asking people to keep quiet and not take flash photographs etc. These messages were reinforced every few minutes by loud announcements from museum staff that were keeping an eye on everyone.
The aspect that Adam and I were most impressed with were the ‘heavy curtains’ that are on the walls of both sides of the chapel. Botticelli painted these.

It was only on very close inspection (they are protected by clear plastic for about the first 2 metres from the ground) that one could see that they are not ‘real’.
The exit is via a staircase designed in 1932 by Giuseppe Momo, it is in the form of a double helix, consisting of two spirals one inside the other, one to walk up and one to walk down. Very much like an Escher drawing one is not sure of what spiral one is on, but if you keep walking down then you get out. It was pretty warm and humid and by the time we had left the museum and walked a little I was feeling a little seedy, I think jet lag had caught up with me. We caught a cab back to the Hotel and basically I went to bed for the night with some room service i.e. minestrone soup etc while Shelia, Rosalind and Adam went out to dinner at a restaurant in Via Magutta. The family were a little concerned so they left me with a mobile telephone with the instructions to just press ‘send’ and it would call Adam’s telephone. I was determined not to call, but did feel a bit ‘crook’. Then a message came through indicating that ‘Tim’ was calling. I thought this would provide an excuse to call Adam without being too embarrassed and then mention in passing that I was not too well. Pressed the send button nothing happened so I just lay back crossed my arms over my chest and tried to relax. About 01.30 they came back and asked how I was, ‘not so bad at that stage’ and I mentioned about Tim’s calls. Adam explained that Tim was the mobile telephone company and they were just messages saying that the phone was connected to that network. Then when Adam checked his telephone he found that he had turned it off and that was why he had not got my distress call. Oh yes!
But it was probably a good thing as it would not be a good way to start the holiday.
The network of narrow streets around the Piazza di Spagna forms one of the most exclusive areas in Rome, drawing droves of tourists and Romans to the elegant shops around the Via Condotti. The Spanish Steps are said to be shaped like a crooked bow tie, but I can’t see the connection. The Piazza is crowded all day and when we were there, long into the night. I guess that the warm balmy nights help. This most famous square in Rome takes its name from the Palazzo di Spagna, built in the 17th century to house the Spanish Embassy to the Holy See. The piazza has long been the haunt of foreign visitors and expatriates who were a lot better behaved than the people who sit on the steps of Flinders Street Station in Melbourne. In the 18th and 19th centuries the square stood at the heart of the city’s main hotel district. Some of the travellers came in search of knowledge and inspiration in collecting statues to adorn their family homes. When the Victorian novelist Charles Dickens visited, he reported that the Spanish Steps were crowded with models dressed as Madonnas, saints and emperors, hoping to attract the attention of foreign artists.
The steps were built in the 1720’s to link the square with the French church of Trinitia dei Monti above. The French wanted to place a statue of Louis XIV at the top, but the pope objected, and it was not until the 1720’s that the Italian architect Francesco de Sanctis produced the voluptuous Rococo design that satisfied both camps
One of the particular buildings that caught our attention on our walk was the Victor Emmanuel Monument which was began in 1885 and inaugurated in 1911, in honour of Victor Emmanuel II, the first king of unified Italy.
6th September 2003
A leisurely breakfast and the car was still where it had been left with no wheel clamps and no parking fines. We then had our first attempt at leaving Rome for Florence. It seemed simple enough on the map but as the saying goes ‘all roads lead to Rome’ even if you want to go somewhere else. But Adam’s GPS kicked into gear and at a second attempt we found the Grand Reccordo Annulare (large ring road) that provided the link to the autostrada and the way to Florence. It is an excellent road, but the traffic is very fast, and the Italian drivers start to change lanes first, then they check to see if it is clear to do so. If it is not they swerve back and if it is they keep going. Scary stuff when it all happens at about 160 kph. On the way we stopped at a motorway stop and it was an interesting experience. It was very, very crowded and the system of getting your food and drink is a bit bizarre. First you join a crush of people to see what you want. When you have decided what you want you then join another crush of people at the cashier’s desk to pay for what you want. When you get a receipt you take it back to the first crush and wait until you get to the counter and provide your receipt and finally get your order. I think it took us about three and a half hours to get to Florence where we had a couple of drinks and then a very quick ‘Griswald stop’ at Fort Belvedere to see the view across Florence and the Duomo. It is a great place to see across Florence.
The place we were heading was a villa that had been booked by Adam. It is called the Villa San Pierino situated near the village of San Casciano about 18 kms south of Florence in the Val di Pesa. The directions indicated that we needed to take the A1 motorway exit Firenze Certosa then the autostrada from Firenze to Siena and exit at San Casciano. Turn right and follow the signs to San Casciano.






When we got to San Casciano take the road for the village of Mercatale for just 1km and then when we saw a villa with two towers called Villa le Corti, just before the villa take the right, white narrow road with signs for Fattoria Le Corti and follow the road until we found a building that was once a church. This is the Villa San Pierino. It is worth looking at the site www.italyhome.org and looking at the site for San Pierino in the catalogue.



Front right corner of the villa with one of the patios on the left.

View from the back patio.

Back patio of the villa.


They were correct about the road; very narrow is an understatement as it turned into a rocky road. I was not all that confident that we would find the villa. But as the road deviated to the right and got even narrower Rosalind spotted a 6-inch by 3-inch brass plate on an archway of a villa we had just passed. We were all relieved to know that we had the correct place and it did not take long to find the owner who lives in the other half of the building. He asked if we spoke Italian or French, none of us claim any Italian. But Rosalind is good with French and Madame showed Rosalind around the villa and explained where everything was and how it all worked. Adam, Rosalind and Sheila went shopping up the village while I rested.
Back right corner of the villa.
When they returned it was a cornucopia of gastronomic delights that included figs, salami, prosciutto hams, breads, artichokes, etc and the bottles of 12 year old whisky, gin, Kahlua and half a dozen bottles of wine, meant that we were not going to starve or die of thirst in the next few hours.
The house was built in the 1400’s serving as a dwelling place for priests. It is attached to the Romanesque church dating from 1100 called San Piero di Sotto; that is where the owners live. During the restoration of the church, the fresco, Madonna dell’Annunciazione, dating from 1400 was brought to light. It is accredited to the school of Simone Martini, a Senese painter.

The formal dining room with the fireplace.
The walls, flooring, and restoration of 1072 kept faith with the beauty of the house and the landscape. The house is situated in San Casciano Val di Pesa – in the heart of the region referred to as Chianti Classico, and is renowned for it’s exquisite wine and olive oil. A beautiful fireplace in pietra serena, is in the living room; it is decorated with the symbols and keys of San Peter (St Peter). This is featured in the 1980 book ‘Tesori del Chianti (Treasures of Chianti).
The Corti farm that is very close by is an important villa that dates from the 15th century. This villa belonging to the Corsini princes, now serves wine, olive oil and flowers. They had a large open day weekend while we were there, but we did not manage to fit in a visit, maybe next time.
Firenze (Florence) is just 18 kms away from the villa and it is useful to know that there is a large parking area near Porta Romana and is called Parcheggio della Calza. From there, Palazzo Pitti and the heart of the city centre are only 300 metres away. Adam and Rosalind had been in Florence for ten days, about nine years before and they knew their way around very well. Most often we parked in the car park under the central railway station.



As Sheila, Rosalind and Adam quickly discovered there were many different shops in the village of San Casciano, selling a huge range of mouth watering Tuscan delicacies that were a feature of most of our very leisurely breakfasts on the terrace. Apart from the fantastic bread shops and delicatessens the main shopping was done in one of other of the two large supermarkets the Coop and Consorzio. The Coop was run in the same way as the classic Coop shops in the U.K. with customer awards programs etc. The supermarkets were open daily Monday through Saturday from 0800 until 1930 and closed on Wednesday afternoons.
Siena is located 50 kms south by way of the autostrada: Firenze-Siena.
The closest coastal city, Versila, is reached by way of the autostrada Firenze-mare. It takes about 40 minutes to get there (90 km). The sea also can be accessed by going in the direction of Siena-Grosseto, we did not make it to the sea there but I did use the swimming pool in the garden a couple of times. It is a large pool very, very clean and well kept.
The villa is a huge three story building on a hill top and is surrounded by olive trees with a great view in every direction across little valleys filled with trees that conceal some more ancient villas that are enjoy great privacy from each other.

View from our bedroom at the villa showing the swimming pool, bottom left.

Another view from our bedroom in the villa.
To me it looks like a huge French provincial farmhouse, that must sound a bit weird as a description of an Italian villa, but I think it conjures up a vision of the ‘sort of place’ that it is.
Sheila and I had a huge bedroom on the top floor (Adam had to carry our case up two long flights of narrow stairs). Along the longest wall was a huge set of windows that gave us an uninterrupted view for miles. The ceiling at each level consists of about three huge tree trunks placed laterally, on which, at right angles to the trunks are 16 rough hewn poles. On the top of these are very thick floor tiles on the first two levels and then the roof is very, very thick roof tiling. In our bedroom there are bookshelves on most of the walls, most if not all the books are in Italian, funny that!
I tell a lie there was a paperback cowboy book in English; nah I was not that desperate to read.




Sheila and John’s room; after the first night the maid noticed that we had pushed the beds together and they were made up with double sheets for the rest of our stay.
That night, our first in the villa, Adam made a huge antipasto platter and Rosalind an even larger plate of pasta and tomato sauce with artichokes. We had dinner on one of our terraces that had a table about thirty feet long, underneath a wisteria covered trellis. The olive trees with their silver and dark green leaves, a three quarter moon framed by the trees, and a balmy night with the ubiquitous cicadas, made our first night in Tuscany fantastic. Realising that the villa was built before Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo produced their great works and we were living there for the next ten days or so enhanced it.

Adam and Rosalind’s room
7th September.
A huge ‘continental’ breakfast was prepared by Adam and Rosalind at the largest table under the wisteria vine covered patio. It included coffee, fruits, cheeses, prosciutto, salami, olives, olive oil, breads and of course preceded by my corn flakes and soymilk. It was interesting to note that in Turkey, Viet Nam, Italy, Malaysia and Thailand I could get my Kellogg’s cornflakes and soy milk. I was thinking that Kellogg’s cornflakes could be used as an even better universal economic indicator than the MacDonald’s ‘Big Mac’.
Adam and I discovered a very large room under the patio and inside was a table tennis table, bats and balls. Of course we had to have a little ‘go’ of gently batting the ball over the net and Adam was being very gentle with his ‘old man’. But of course the male ego must find expression and the gentle batting the ball over the net was occasionally transformed into full-blooded smashes. It was very hot and sticky in the ‘cellar’ and it was not long before it felt like a sauna and we were drenched in sweat. Meanwhile the ladies had fixed lunch and it was on the patio again, with bruschetta, ham and cheese and tomato, basil, olive oil etc.



We were then treated to a thunderstorm with lightning, the full bit. The dark trunks of the olive trees in our garden and across the valley looked black in contrast to the silver green leaves as the rain washed the dust off the trees.
One important item to note is that the ‘hot’ taps of the left hand side of the sinks (the same as in Australia) have the letter ‘C’ on them for Caldo that means HOT, and the ‘cold’ taps on the right hand side have the letter ‘F’ on them for Freddo, that means cold. So forget all that and just open the taps that you would as if in Australia for hot and cold and don’t try to be smart.
We had a siesta after lunch and got up late afternoon and read our books for a while before having dinner in the dining room.
The breakfast room.
Dinner being an extension of lunch with more of the same, it was a treat for our palates but I was moved to think that every piece that went through my lips was going to end on my hips, but I did not think about it for long and was not inhibited in my enjoyment. We went to bed early and did not take long to fall very soundly asleep.
8th September
Adam and Rosalind woke early to go into Florence and pick up Tom Miller from the railway station in Florence. Tom is a partner with Adam’s firm and after having worked in their Bangkok office for ten years he was moving back to the Sydney office but taking a few months holiday first.
He had been in Paris and had taken the overnight train to spend a few days with us before heading off to Vienna and Budapest. It turned out that Tom was meeting a friend in Vienna who was staying at the Hotel Urania in Vienna at which I had stayed last December while presenting a paper at a UNESCO conference. I did not tell Tom that I thought the similarity between the words urinal and Urania was probably not accidental.
Sheila and I had a very slow breakfast that included many cups of coffee and much ham, bread, olives etc again at the table on the largest patio. There was a light shower and grey skies that seemed very refreshing and peaceful after the long dry years we have just had in Australia. As I watched the rain clouds drift across the valley I noticed first the first time the extreme contrast between the dark green top sides of the olive tree leaves and the silver green on the underneath sides.
Adam, Rosalind and Tom got back about noon and after putting his cases in his bedroom we all went into San Casciano to replenish the depleted stocks in the larder. Most of the shops were shut for the siesta so we had a couple of beers and panini (sandwich) at some tables on the street outside a bar. At an appropriately leisurely pace we went to the Coop supermarket for supplies. I stayed outside most of the time, as I did not want to be part of the Griswalds shopping in Europe experience. Two trolleys full of shopping and then back to some other shops who had opened after the siesta to get some wines, breads, cheeses etc and one device that the kitchen lacked i.e. an electric kettle for boiling the water for cups of tea. There were a few coffee-making devices that were well used by us but tea was also an option that the ladies wanted to exercise on occasions.
Some more of the history of the district:
San Casciano val di Pesa is on a ridge between the Pesa and Greve streams, a little less than 20 kms from Florence. The first record of a hamlet around the parish church of Santa Cecilia a Decimo was in the 12th century, but it is at the end of the 13th century that San Casciano val de Pesa takes shape under the Florentine bishopric that gave the town its first statutes. The ties with Florence provoked a few disagreements in San Casciano val di Pesa. In 1312 the ‘malicious’ empire of Arrigo VII extended to San Casciano val di Pesa while Arrigo VII waited for Florence to open its doors to him Dante described ArrigoVII as being like ‘the man of providence’. Now whether that was meaning Arrigo was going to be providential in a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ sense I don’t know. But it was stated that the wait for the Emperor was in vain and on 6th January 1313 the troops left it after having ‘sacked’ it. Only 13 years would pass before Castruccio Castroconi vented his hatred of Florence on San Casciano val di Pesa. There was also recorded the ‘destruction’ of San Casciano val di Pesa in 1354 by Fra Moriale d’Alborro.
I think that some of the monks at that time took their teaching very seriously and if you did not pay attention you were severely punished. Because of these incursions the town was given some strong walls and a castle inside the walls in 1355-1356. I think we could do with some builders like that today. The Florentines thought San Casciano had strategic importance, probably because of its position on a ridge and they spent 35,000 florins on the fortifications. The fortifications were then reinforced in the 16th century by Cosimo I dei Medici (he had a real ‘Roman’ nose). The ancient castle of the feudal age were transformed into rich privately owned homes and farms, mostly owned by rich Florentines who passed the hot summer months away from Florence in the hills of San Cascaiano.
Currently there are 16,000 inhabitants that make it a great size with all the facilities one could need without the crush of the larger towns/cities.
Adam and Rosalind decided that they were going to provide a banquet that we ate again out on the patio. It included veal stuffed with mortadella, spinach, pine nuts, frittata, stuffed pumpkin flowers and more breads etc. It was an excellent meal that lasted long into the night/early morning and I had to stagger off to bed barely able to carry my share of the meal up the stairs. In fact I think I was carrying more than my fair share.

Sheila and John having morning tea on the villa patio.

9th September 2003
Absolutely poured with rain most of the day. The traffic on the way to Florence was ‘bumper to bumper’ most of the way. We left the car in the car park under the Santa Maria Novella railway station again and walked to the Duomo (cathedral); the structure is very impressive but the colours are amazing; it was the green and cream colours that I found unexpected and very pleasing.

The Duomo in Florence.
As it was still raining we bought five folding umbrellas from street traders as five Euros each we thought we had a bargain though the design on a couple were a bit exotic; but what the heck they kept us dry.

We tried to get into the Uffizi gallery, but the queues were too long for us, so Adam bought some tickets for the following day. The Italian word for ticket is ‘biglietto’ and this is important to remember for parking as well as entry to buildings.
We walked the very short distance to the bank of the Arno River and about 100 metres from us was the Ponte Vechio, or Old Bridge indeed the oldest bridge in Florence, built in 1345. It was the only bridge in Florence to escape being blown up during World War II. We took a couple of the obligatory photographs of each other with the Ponte Vechio in the background. We wandered down to the bridge while looking for a Gellataria that sold Maron Glace (chestnut) Gellati that Adam said was his favourite and many of the Gelataria that we searched did not have it. Sheila discovered one called Pompelmo Rossa (Ruby Grapefruit) flavoured. This quickly became Sheila and Adam’s favourite.

The Ponte Vecchio Florence.
The bridge is only open to pedestrians and has ‘work’ shops on both sides. There have always been workshops on the bridge, but the original workshops were butchers, tanners and blacksmiths who used the river as a convenient rubbish tip, Duke Ferdinando I evicted them in 1593 because of the noise and stench they created. The workshops were rebuilt and let to the more decorous goldsmiths, and the shops lining and overhanging the bridge continue to specialize in new and antique jewellery.
Some of the oldest workshops have rear extensions overhanging the river, supported by timber brackets called ‘sporti’. On the Eastern side of the bridge the Corridorio Vasariano was built in 1565 by Giorgio Vasari, court architect to the Medici dukes. The elevated corridor links the Palazzo Vecchio to the Palazzo Pitti, via the Uffizi Gallery. This private walkway allowed members of the Medici family to move about between their various residences, admiring the self-portraits of many great artists, including Rembrandt, Rubens and Hogarth, without having to step into the streets below and mix with the Hoi Polloi, (the many, the masses, the other crowd).

Adam, John and Rosalind near the Ponte Vecchio
The Vasari corridor supported on brackets, circumvents the Manneli tower. This medieval tower was built to defend the bridge. The Manneli family stubbornly refused to make way for the Vasari Corridor. In 1900 there was placed in the middle of the bridge a bust of Benvenuto Cellini the most famous of all Florentine goldsmiths. There are few better places for enjoying the river views, buskers, portrait painters and street traders congregating on the bridge. On the eastern side of the bridge about the middle we noticed a metal pole outside of the balustrade on which ‘young lovers’ attach padlocks with their names attached. There were a few hundred and it seemed a ‘nice’ gesture of young love. The Ponte Vecchio is especially attractive when viewed in the setting sun from Ponte Santa Trinita, or from one of the embankments.
We were told that the shops sell everything from affordable modern earrings to precious antique rings, accurate apart from the ‘affordable’ bit.
We walked across the bridge and back and through the Mercato Nuovo (New Market) that is often referred to as the ‘Straw Market’ because goods woven out of straw, such as hats and baskets, were sold here from the end of the 19th century until the 1960’s. In fact, it was originally built in 1547-51 as a central market for silk and other luxury goods. Today’s stallholders sell leather goods and souvenirs, and on summer evenings buskers gather to entertain visitors. To the south of the market is a little fountain called Il Porcellino. This is a 17th century copy in bronze of the Roman marble statue of a wild boar that can be seen in the Uffizi. It’s snout gleams like gold, thanks to the superstition that any visitor who rubs it will return to Florence some day. A Florentine version of the Trevi fountain. Coins dropped in the small water basin below are collected and distributed to the city’s charities.

Adam in Florence
On Tom’s recommendation we went to the Palazzo Strozzi and specifically the Galleria Palatina museum. The Palazzo Strozzi is the biggest Palazzo (palace) in Florence. The Strozzi family were exiled from Florence in 1434 for their opposition to the Medici, but in 1466 the banker Filippo Strozzi having built up a fortune in Naples, returned to Florence, determined to outdo his great rivals the Medici. He became a man obsessed. www.greatbuildings.com/buildings/Palazzo_Strozzi.html
For years he bought up and demolished other palaces around his home. At last, he acquired enough land to achieve his ambition to build the biggest palace ever seen in Florence. Having spent so much money to get this far nothing was left to chance. Astrologers were brought in to choose the most favourable day on which to lay the foundation stone, and the walls of the monumental palace began to rise in 1489. He must have neglected Feng Shui because two years later Filippo Strozzi was dead, and though his heirs struggled on with the building, the cost of pursuing Strozzi’s grandiose vision finally left them penniless and bankrupt.
The Strozzi palace is awesome because of its sheer size. Fifteen buildings were demolished to make way for it, and although it is only three storeys high, each floor is as tall as a normal palace. The building was not completed until 1536, and three major architects had a hand in its design- Giuliano da Sangallo, Benedetto da Maiano and Simone del Pollaiuolo (also known as Cronaca). The exterior, built of huge rusticated masonry blocks, remains unspoiled. It is interesting to see the original Renaissance torch-holders, lamps and rings for tethering horses. These can be seen along the facades and corners.
We drove back to the villa, had a slow shower and changed, and then went up to the village of San Casciano for dinner. We wandered along a couple of cobbled streets and found a restaurant that was well patronised by the locals, a good sign, and this proved to be prophetic as it was an excellent meal and Adam’s concerns about Italian wines were allayed.
A slow walk back to car and another early night was on the agenda for us all.
10th September
The weather was very different today. Only a few clouds and plenty of sunshine. The Uffizi Gallery was on the agenda today and as Adam had pre-booked the tickets we needed to be in the queue for 13.45. Even with pre-booked tickets there are allocated times and still some queuing. Apparently this was the day for the ‘buskers’ to come out, or perhaps it was just that the weather had improved significantly from the day before. Some of the ‘buskers’ included some very ‘weedy’ looking blokes in Roman Legionnaires costume who would pose with tourists for a fee; some mime characters in grey robes and white make-up looking like Dante etc who again will pose for a fee. The one we liked the most was a chap (I think) dressed and made up to look like the Mona Lisa. He held a picture frame around his head, with a black cloth backing it so he looked like a framed picture. It was quite funny as his expressions ran the full gambit and not just the enigmatic smile.
The Uffizi was built in 1560-1580 as a suite of offices (uffici) for Duke Cosimo I’s new Tuscan administration.

The architect, Vasari, used iron reinforcement to create an almost continuous wall of glass on the upper storey. This reminds me, there are lots of staircases in most of the museums and on a warm humid day with lots of other people they are a bit of an effort. From 1581 Cosimo’s heirs, beginning with Francesco I, used this well-lit space to display the Medici family art treasures, creating what is now regarded as the oldest gallery in the world. The Uffizi art collection is on the top floor, (remember the stairs). Ancient Greek and Roman sculptures are in the broad corridor that lies around the inner side of the horseshoe-shaped building. The paintings are hung in a series of rooms off the main corridor, in chronological order, to reveal the development of the Florentine Art from Gothic to High Renaissance and beyond. Most of the ‘best’ paintings are in rooms 7-18. It was interesting to observe the ‘crowd’ behaviour. If there were a little delay in the movement of people through one of the rooms, a queue would start to form in the main corridor, because a queue had formed many people thought it must be a special part of the collection and joined the queue. Adam realised that it was not about special parts of the collection it was more about crowd behaviour so with a little checking we could see the ‘best bits’ without being too crowded. I must admit that I found the Gothic Art mostly very ‘two-dimensional’ and very flat looking and after a while the religious theme is a bit overdone. The early Renaissance with its use of geometry and perspective created more illusions of space and depth and Paolo Uccelo’s ‘The Battle of San Romano’ in room seven is a good example. Fra Filippo Lippi’s ‘Madonna and Child with Angels’ in room 8 is hailed as a masterpiece of warmth and humanity with his religious subjects being used to celebrate earthly delights, such as feminine beauty and the Tuscan landscape. It is worth noting that none of them looked very Jewish or the landscape very Palestinian. www.arca.net/uffizi/index1.htm
The Botticelli paintings in rooms 10-14 are the highlight of the Uffizi’s collection. The still brilliant colours and crisp draughtsmanship, featured in ‘The Birth of Venus’ is a classic illustration of the experimentation with ‘new’ pigments to achieve striking colour effects. Though I have to say that in the ‘Birth of Venus’ Botticelli did show that he was not good at doing waves.
By painting Venus, instead of another Christian Madonna, Botticelli expressed the fascination of himself and his contemporaries with classical mythology. The same is true of his other famous work, Primavera. It breaks with the tradition of Christian religious painting by illustrating a pagan rite of spring. Other works of note nearby include the Adoration of the Magi; a thinly disguised Medici family portrait the grey-haired king who is pictured kneeling at the feet of the virgin is Cosimo il Vecchio. The kneeling figure in the white robe is his grandson, Giuliano.
The young man holding a sword, on the far left of the painting, is thought to be a rather idealized portrait of Lorenzo the Magnificent, Cosimo’s other grandson. ‘Rather idealized’ I think that means he was ugly and the artist made him look better than he did.
Room fifteen contains works contains works attributed to the young Leonardo.
After a while one feels that one has had a surfeit of paintings but should not miss the opportunity to see them all. In the end I resolved that I would look at as many as possible and by some process like osmosis I would absorb them all and appreciate them even if it was not a conscious process.
The ‘Arno Corridor’, overlooking the Arno river, that links the east and west wings of the Uffizi, offers fine views of the hills to the south of Florence, where we were staying. The ancient Roman statues displayed in the Arno Corridor were mainly collected by the Medici during the 15th century. Their anatomical precision and faithful portraiture were much admired and copied by Renaissance artists, who saw themselves as giving rebirth to Classical perfection in art. Though it is interesting that many of the statues in many of the museums have had the penis broken off and those that remain were not very well endowed. A fact mentioned by many of the ‘lady’ tourists. The Roman statues were equally popular during the 17th and 18th centuries with visitors on their way to Rome etc as part of their Grand Tour of Europe. The Renaissance works that attract so many millions of visitors today were ignored for many years until John Ruskin, the art historian wrote about them in the 1840’s.
In rooms 41-45 there are paintings acquired by the Medici in the 17th and 18th centuries. These include works by Rubens, Van Dyck, Caravaggio and Rembrandt.
I think I was most pleased to see the work of Giorgio Vasari, whose book on the ‘Lives of the Great Artists’ I have enjoyed for over forty years. Vasari was a contemporary of Michaelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci and I think is best known for his book that provided a remarkable insight into the daily lives of the ‘great artists’ and of Italy at that time. However I now think that history has been a bit unkind to Vasari and he was as good as, if not better than, many artists about whom he wrote.
I must admit feeling that the display of the paintings is not as good as in other renowned galleries such as the Louvre particularly lacking in interpretative text in various languages. Though one can hire personal CD players with CD guides in many languages, (perhaps we should have done that), but I don’t like walking around with a CD player hung around my neck and with an earpiece preventing conversations with the people accompanying you.
After the Uffizi we had lunch in a café and then set off to find the local UPS office in a northern suburb of Florence. UPS were holding the tickets to the Italian Grand Prix that Adam had organised. Adam had been tracking the tickets via his office in Bangkok and UPS in Rotterdam. They claimed to have tried to deliver them to the villa in San Casciano the day before, but could not find us. So Adam had told them to hold the tickets and we would find the depot. It was interesting to say the least and another opportunity for Adam to utilise his in-built GPS (global positioning system) and his ‘drive at high-speed for long enough and you will end up where you want theory. I think it is based on the same theory as I use when playing snooker: hit the ball hard enough and it will go down some pocket eventually. I must admit we were all very impressed when Adam and Tom emerged from the UPS depot in the middle of an industrial estate with all the tickets in hand. Adam took Tom with him into the office as Tom speaks a lot better Italian than the rest of us and he could smooth out any misunderstandings. The UPS chaps were very impressed that an Australian working in Bangkok could find their depot and pick up the tickets that had come from Rotterdam, a real international exercise. The road around Florence heading south was a different one to that which we normally took so we enjoyed a very circuitous route through the Chianti region to San Casciano. Rosalind and Sheila took great delight in commenting about how men can read maps and women can’t but I think Tom did a great job of taking us through some very picturesque parts under great pressure and to the right place, in the end. For dinner we went to the same restaurant as the night before and the very pleasant young lady who had looked after us the night before explained for ‘our benefit’ that if we wanted to tip anyone we would need to give them the cash and not add a gratuity to the credit card voucher as any tip in that way was not passed onto the staff. It was another great meal and Adam made sure that the tip was given directly to the staff. On the way back to the villa it was universally declared that we would have a quiet day tomorrow, I wish! It remained to be seen.
11th September
Yes a ‘fairly’ quiet day another leisurely breakfast on the patio, with breads, prosciutto, mortadella, jams, coffees etc. We had thought about going to Lucca, but decided perhaps it was a bit too far on a ‘rest day’. Instead we decided to go to San Gimignano. We again took the scenic route much to the chagrin of the ladies who had no faith in the ‘boys’ navigation. However the ‘boys’ did okay, and the very distinctive skyline of San Gimignano must have been as welcome a site to the faithful in medieval times as it was to us. The town lay on the main pilgrim route from northern Europe to Rome. This gave rise to its prosperity at the time when its population was twice what it is today.
The plague of 1348, and later the diversion of the pilgrim route led to its economic decline, but perhaps also to its preservation. Since World War II it has been recovering rapidly thanks to tourism and local wine production. For a small town, San Gimignano is rich in works of art, and good shops and restaurants. Many of the medieval walled cities in Tuscany will not allow cars into the town, but in San Gimignano the car parking areas are only about six minutes walk from the entrance to the town. From there it is only about another five minutes or so to get to the centre of the town through cobbled streets with many interesting shops on both sides.
The ‘City of Beautiful Towers’ is one of the best-preserved medieval towns in Tuscany. Its stunning skyline bristles with tall towers dating from the 13th century: 14 of the original 76 have survived. These windowless towers were built to serve both as private fortresses and symbols of their owner’s wealth.

John, Rosalind, Sheila and Thomas Miller just outside the walls of San Gimignano.
In the Piazza della Cisterna, ringed by a jumble of unspoilt 13th and 14th century palazzi, is a wellhead built in 1237. Shops, galleries and jewellers line the two main streets, Via San Matteo and Via San Giovanni that still retain their medieval feel. There are spectacular views from the top of the Torre Grossa, so I am told, but it was fairly warm so I declined and sat on the steps in the Piazza del Duomo (cathedral square) while Sheila and Rosalind checked out the church.
I again took their word for the ‘great interior’ that was only detracted by the ‘electric candles’. But as Tom pointed out they would be a lot safer than ‘real’ candles being less hazardous and cheaper
On the way out Adam bought some wild boar salami with truffles.

The shop in San Gimignano from which Adam bought the ‘wild’ boar salami with truffles.
There are some great views over the valleys surrounding San Gimignano and if one is to visit Tuscany, then I recommend that San Gimignano be added to the ‘must see’ list. Much to the relief of the ladies we took the more direct route back to San Casciano on the autostrada via Poggibonsi. No one was impressed with my pronunciation of Poggibonsi i.e. Poggy bonsai especially when I suggested that the origin of the name might be related to ‘small pigs’.
When we got back to the villa Sheila made some minestrone soup that was excellent and was much enjoyed with all the bread and of course the wild boar salami with truffles. After dinner Adam and Rosalind took Tom into Florence to catch the 2200 train to Vienna and then Budapest.



John in San Gimignano
12th September
Today we had a real ‘quiet’ day at the villa as in the morning we were going to Milan to see the Italian Grand Prix. In the garden was a large aviary with about a dozen doves in it and also a large grey rabbit. The doves were great with their soothing cooing, but it was ‘Bugs Bunny’ that grabbed my attention. I spent quite a few hours finding out which weeds he liked the most and I wandered in ever widening circles finding dandelions that were his favourite. After a few hours whenever I walked near the ‘cage’ he would come up to the wire and press his nose to it ‘asking’ me for more food. I took delight in poking the dandelions through the wire in higher and higher places to see how far he could stretch. He was a cunning bunny and would hop up onto a large rock to make sure he could reach all that I poked through the wire. The funniest thing was when I experimented with different weeds and he would treat with distain those that he did not like. I had a swim in the pool that was a little cool, but very refreshing. It was a very restful day that was appreciated by us all and enabled a bit of washing and drying.


13th September
We set off about mid-morning via the autostrada I think that the tolls are well worth the price for the time that it takes off a trip. The route to Milan is via the outskirts of Bologna and Modena, where Ferrari cars are made and Parma where my favourite hams are ‘smoked’. The landscape changed dramatically after Bologna and the Po river ‘flats’ in Lombardy are very large and very flat, and is obviously where the ‘food basket’ of northern Italy is located. The traffic between Bologna and Milan was not a ‘good’ experience and we encountered many examples of drivers changing lanes at high speed without any checking to see if the way was clear. At other times we were in a traffic jam that would just not move and this was the autostrada.
Navigation in cities is always a challenge, but Adam again did very well and we were booked into a hotel very close to the main station in Milan which is a very magnificent building in its own right, and has featured in many movies. I say booked into a hotel, it was the Hilton hotel, but as we checked in the concierge informed Adam that they had received a fax from a travel agent cancelling Adam’s bookings. I was surprised at Adam’s restraint as we all had visions of sleeping in the car as we thought all hotels would be booked out for the Grand Prix. The concierge was a great help and organised rooms for as at the Four Seasons hotel that was only about three minutes walk away. After we booked in and had a little rest we decided to have little look at Milan. We walked to the main station and took the Metro a few stations to the Duomo (cathedral) square. We were very impressed with the Cathedral, which was being renovated, and the square that has many shops and people of ages promenading. We were quite early, so we were fortunate to find a restaurant with a table for four outside in the ‘balmy’ air. We say fortunate, but it was another one that used ‘palm pilots’ to pass orders to the kitchen. So the food took a while and it was not the greatest, but it saved us starving. We walked back to the metro station and then the short walk back to the hotel and an early night before the ‘big’ race.
Sunday 14th September
Adam wisely decided that parking could be an issue at the race venue in Monza so he organised a taxi. It was about a 30-minute trip and we were very impressed with Monza, as opposed to most of Milan that looks very grey and dirty and uninspiring after Rome and Tuscany. As we got ‘closer’ to the venue the traffic started to get very dense and very slow. The taxi driver said that he would have to stop and let us out as he could get no nearer. The Milan Sports Club and the Milan Motoring Club buildings made it very clear where the ‘money’ is. The track is located in the middle of a large forest, the trees are not large, but there are lots of them, and it is very picturesque.
We located what we thought was the entrance and went through a check of our tickets and kept walking and walking and walking along various paths through the forest along with many thousand of other ‘fans’. More check points with scanning devices used to check the authenticity of our tickets and more walking through pathways through the forest and its dappled light. We went through another checkpoint and guided towards a road under the track. However that was not where we wanted to be, so we went back through a number of checkpoints that we had already been through in the other direction. It seems that as long as we had valid tickets no one cared how many gate and checkpoints we went through even if they were taking us in the wrong direction. Eventually we found the right location and stand. It was at the top of a stand right next to the first chicane and we were able to see all of the cars clearly as they had to slow down significantly after the pit straight to negotiate the first large bend.

Rosalind, John and Sheila at the Italian Grand Prix.
Before the main race there was one that featured Porsche cars only, and to be honest it was the more interesting race as there were a few ‘bingles’. However in the main race Michael Schumacher basically led from start to finish except for the pit stops that appeared to alter the leaders, but as each had their pit stops the starting order was restored and sustained.


It was a very warm day and drinks were important. Sheila bought a Jaguar hat to show her support for the Australian driver Mark Webber (I think he finished 9th). Adam and Rosalind bought Ferrari hats and I had my Panama, which I valued all day.
As soon as the race finished it was amusing to see the fans scale the fences and grab their trophies. These included Vodaphone signs and plastic blocks with chevron stripes on. I can imagine the conversation when the ‘boys’ got home that night. “Hello darling, you’ll never guess what I managed to get at the race track”. “Wow sweetheart! A metre square plastic block with black stripes, I can barely contain my excitement.” “Yes I was so lucky I knew you would be impressed, do you think we should keep it in our bedroom”?
“Of course sweetheart, in fact there will be plenty of room as I am moving back home with Mum”!

Adam at the Italian Grand Prix.
After the race we then thought about how we were going to get back to Milan, taxis were not going to be available. So we just followed the crowd and found ourselves at a railway station just outside of Monza. It was very hot and the crowd was very dense especially as we got closer to the station and everyone was positioning themselves, for when the train arrived. After about half an hour a railway worker opened a small gate that provided access to the platform. We tried to keep close to each other as everyone shuffled towards the small gate.
As we got closer the crowd become more and more dense and silently tried to dominate their position in the ‘queue’. There were a few Irish men in the crowd and they decided that a bit of levity would help and started to Baa. Everyone laughed and it did relieve the tension a bit.
When we got through this first funnel and burst onto the platform everyone tried to locate what they thought would be a good position. Halfway along the platform was another gate. About another twenty minutes later the train arrived and stopped at the platform on the other side of the next gate. The railway staff were then only letting small groups through, at a time, to board the train. The crowd discipline started to decline further and it was only a quick hip and shoulder jab which persuaded one chap that he should not try and overtake Rosalind. With a suitable bit of shoulder flexing Sheila, Adam, Rosalind and I managed to board the train but only in a very small space between two carriages. It was very warm and sticky with no air-conditioning and about twelve of us in the small space. After about ten minutes the train started and the little fresh air that came through the windows of the carriages to us was very welcome. The train was quite slow, but it was okay until we stopped at Monza railway station where another platform full of people tried to board the train. At that point we were glad that we had walked to the other station and not Monza. About five chaps tried to board on Adam’s side and Adam did a great job at repelling boarders but a couple got on much to the annoyance of the incumbents and they were glared at for the rest of the trip. It was very stifling and we were very glad when we arrived at the Milan central railway station and burst out onto the platform like effervescent perspiration. We walked back to the hotel and went into the hotel bar for a couple of gin and tonics. It turned into a few gin and tonics and I decided that I would go to our room and have a rest. I did not feel up to dining out so I telephoned down for room service while the others dined in the hotel dining room. I was not sure of what to order and the restaurant suggested chicken or beef sandwich. I opted for beef, not the best option. When the doorbell rang a lovely young lady brought the tray into the room and placed it on the table opposite the bed. She asked me if I had a pen to sign for the meal. I pointed to the bedside table and she started to walk towards it, but then backed off and asked me to pass her the pen. I thought it was a bit weird until I remembered someone telling me that the hotel staff are trained not to put themselves in a position where the guest is between them and the door. Makes sense but a little embarrassing. Anyway, back to the beef sandwich. It looked like a salad in a very large bread roll but the beef, ah the beef; it was very very ‘blue’. If more of its bits had been with it I am sure it would have started to moo.
I think that it had been marinated and when I tried some it was ok but I could not eat it all and it had to be sloshed down with a very large coke.
15th September (Monday)
A leisurely breakfast at the hotel and our usual exploration of the Milan suburbs before we found the autostrada to Genova (Genoa). It was a straightforward drive though the hills to the coast. I must admit we were very impressed with all the tunnels through the hills on many of the autostrada. It would be good to use their experience and expertise to put a tunnel under the Blue Mountains to make the trip to Sydney from the West safer, quicker and easier. Just before we arrived in the outer parts of Genova the autostrada gave us an option of heading south, which was what we did. Very impressive views of the Ligurian Sea and the many thousands of four story villas perched on the hillsides. The coast between Genova and La Spezia is known as the Riviera di Levante and La Spezia is the large town at which you leave the autostrada to get to Portofino our next stop.

A view of Portofino.
From the 1920’s to the 1930’s tourism began to develop, attracting many aristocratic families from the north, British in particular, who stayed for long periods in the mild Portofino climate.
They came in search of character and primitive secluded corners and built magnificent villas, making Portofino famous throughout the world. The ‘first’ to arrive were the Brown brothers from Scotland who bought and restored the medieval castles of Portofino and Paraggi; later many other well-known Italian and foreign intellectuals and others from the world of art, finance and politics took up residence to Portofino.
World War II left behind a trail of loss and grief, and a mass of ruins in Portofino, but its total destruction was avoided thanks to Mrs Watt, the elderly widow of Baron Mumm, Ambassador of Emperor William II, who convinced the German commander not to light the fuse to set of the mines that were to blow up the village after their retreat. The little village of Portofino is about 150 metre wide and 370 metres long and is really just two small squares joined by narrow cobbled streets. The sea front consists mainly of densely built tower-houses, crammed around the squares. Many of the houses have on the ground floor, restaurants and shops. We found an underground parking lot in the top square and walked down the cobbled streets to the sea front and a restaurant that had white linen tablecloths and glass screens to shield us from the sea breeze while allowing us to enjoy the scenery.

The emerald green sea, the wild beauty of the promontory covered with luxuriant vegetation and the small harbour crowded with luxury yachts leaves every visitor with an unforgettable impression. The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, who walked from Portofino to San Fruttuoso wrote of the experience as: “Without doubt there is something Hellenic about this place and yet there is too something pirate-like, improvised, hidden and dangerous”. Portofino reminds me of little fishing villages like Mousehole in Cornwall England, St Paul’s Bay in Malta and St Marys in the Isles of Scilly.

The remains of lunch in Portofino.
Lunch for the ladies was a shared fish banquet that featured a huge sea bass and prawns etc; mine was a large dish of marinated baby squid, Adam’s about fifty mussels; and a couple of bottles of wine. There were a number of tour groups being rushed past by their guides and it was sad to hear their instructions: “Tour group two you have twenty-five minutes and then you have to be back on the jetty to get the tender back to the ship”. “Tour group three you now have fifteen minutes before you have to get back to the jetty to get the tender back to the ship”. Most of the tour groups were elderly widows struggling to walk in their trendy runners and buy the necessary postcards etc to prove they had visited.
After lunch we walked along the harbour front and posed for some photographs on a little jetty, with the harbour as a background.

On the way we admired a large luxury yacht called ‘Ladies First’ and also just off shore the very large sailing yacht ‘Club Med II’.

Sheila and lunch in Portofino.


Adam and Rosalind in Portofino.
We just walked around and soaked up the atmosphere for a few hours and then reluctantly decided that we should start south for San Casciano and the villa. Just before we left Adam decided that he needed some retail therapy and spotted a Paul & Shark shop that had just the shirts he was looking for. On the way back to the car we found Rosalind and Sheila sampling the gelato and buying a few postcards. On the way out of Portofino Adam pointed out the Hotel Splendide that has the reputation of one of the world’s best hotels, it certainly has great views and I expect the tariff would keep the ‘riffraff’ out; or maybe it is only the ‘riffraff’ who can afford to stay there.
We had hoped that we would have time to see the famous ‘Cinque Terre’ or ‘five lands’, which are a series of small coastal villages south of Portofino. But as each one would have involved driving down and back a small road each time we thought that we should declare that they were probably much like Portofino and head ‘home’.

Portofino
On the way south on the autostrada we drove past Carrara, which looked like hills covered in icing sugar. It was awe-inspiring to think that the marble from Carrara was used by Michelangelo for his David, Pieta etc and is still shipped from the same quarries to many destinations around the world. Rosalind and Adam told us that when they travelled by train through this area ten years before they noticed that all the rivers running from the hills to the Ligurian Sea (Mare Ligure) were milky white because of the marble dust from all the workshops along the river banks.
There was some debate about whether we should turn east at Viareggio or Pisa. Sheila said that she would have liked to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa but the rest of us said it was not worth the effort. I spoke from comments made by other people who had been to Pisa and Adam and Rosalind from first-hand experience. While we were still talking about the options we passed Viareggio and took the ring road around Pisa and headed east. Rosalind, Adam and I kept trying to point out the Leaning Tower of Pisa to Sheila and became very frustrated when Sheila could not see the site that we were pointing out. Sheila did not seem to have developed the Griswald ‘eye’ for sight-seeing, but at last one little hill on the autostrada gave us enough of a glance at the Duomo and Leaning Tower to enable Sheila to say that she had seen the Leaning Tower.


The autostrada went almost due east along the banks of the Arno River through the town of Empoli until we turned off on some minor roads to San Casciano and ‘home’.
Dinner was on the patio with a ‘blood red sunset’ as a backdrop and a symphony of cicadas. A great day with an evening that will last for years.

Portofino.
Rosalind in Portofino
16th September Tuesday.
Adam after breakfast was short of cigarettes and wanted to go into San Casciano to get some I said that I would go with him and suggested that I would drive on the way back. My first attempt at driving a left-hand drive car and on the other side of the road. It does feel very strange having the width of the car on your right hand side instead of the left and it makes judging your distance from the kerb more difficult. This was very evident as we went around a bend and at the right hand side of the road, where there was no kerb, but a very high wall, were three pedestrians walking the same way as I was driving. I think that was good for them, as they did not see how close they came to being spread along the wall. Adam saw it from very close quarters and was quite stressed, but soon recovered and after a couple of cigarettes suggested that I drive the four of us into Florence and see the ‘real’ statue of David in the Fine Arts Academy. (Galleria dell’Accademia). With each kilometre I felt a little more comfortable with my driving but I am not sure the passengers did, especially when I took decisive action to ensure I went into the underground car park in Florence and went down the ramp via a ‘bus’ lane and a very quick lane change.
The Academy of Fine Arts in Florence was founded in 1563 and was the first school in Europe set up to teach the techniques of drawing, painting and sculpture.

The art collection displayed in the gallery was formed in 1784 with the aim of providing the students of the academy with material to study and copy. We all felt that this gallery was much better at displaying its collection than the Uffizi.
Since 1873 many of Michelangelo’s most important works have been in the Academia. Perhaps the most famous of all dominated the collection: Michelangelo’s David (1504). Next to the David is a computer and screen that allows you to rotate the image and view it from any position. (The image not the statue).
This colossal Classical is statue 5.2 metres tall (17 feet) and depicts the biblical hero who killed the giant Goliath. It is interesting to see the variation in the interpretation of David, from Michelangelo’s in marble and Donatello’s bronze David. Michelangelo’s David was commissioned by the City of Florence and positioned in the Palazzo Vecchio. This established Michelangelo then aged 29, as the foremost sculptor of his time. In 1873 it was moved to the Academia, to protect it from the weather and pollution. One copy of David, that many tourists think is the original, is now to be found in place of the original in the Piazza della Signoria and a second stands in the middle of the Piazzle Michelangelo. Adam’s favourite is ‘The Quattro Prigioni’ (the four prisoners) which were sculpted between 1521 and 1523 and intended to adorn the tomb of Pope Julius II. Presented to the Medici in 1564 by Michelangelo’s cousin, the muscular figures struggling to free themselves from the stone that imprisons them, are among the most dramatic of his works.
The Salone della Toscana (Tuscany room) is full of 19th century sculpture and paintings by members of the Accademia, and a series of original plaster models by the sculptor Lorenzo Bartolini. Born in 1777, he became professor at the Academia in 1839, a post he held until his death in 1850. His work includes busts of major figures, such as the poet Lord Byron and the composer Franz List.
It was very hot waiting in the queue to enter and the afternoon sun was focused on the side of the street where we were waiting. In the end we took it in turns to reserve our places in the queue while the others took shelter in the shade on the other side of the street.
As we were leaving to go back home I said to Adam that I was not all that confident of driving back into Florence on Thursday as Adam suggested and then back out of Florence. Luckily Adam took the wheel as we left the underground car park. I say luckily because as we joined the queue for the up ramp to get out a car that was three quarters of the way up the ramp in front of us started to roll backwards. Lots of ‘kangaroo hopping’ and it was only making negative progress, that is, towards us. Adam got out of our car and ran up to the car in front and encouraged the driver to get out and let Adam have a go.
Basically the technical diagnosis was a ‘buggered clutch’ and with much wheel spinning and pulling away in second gear Adam managed to get the other car up the ramp and out of the way. We saw him a couple of times trying to negotiate the ‘rush hour’ traffic and managed to avoid being behind him. Well done Adam take another bow!
When we got back to the villa we had a quick wash and clean up and then out to San Casciano and our ‘favourite’ restaurant for dinner.
17th September 2003 Wednesday
After our usual ‘Spartan’ breakfast we drove via an autostrada to Lucca in Northern Tuscany. The heavily populated Lucchese plain is dominated by industry: the textile factories of the city of Prato produce three out of every four woollen garments exported from Italy. But in spite of the industrial suburbs, cities such as Prato, Pistoria and above all Lucca have rewarding churches, museums and galleries within their very historic city centres.
Lucca is enclosed by massive red brick walls that help give the city its special character by shutting out traffic and the modern world. Built in 1504–1645 the walls are amongst the best-preserved Renaissance defences in Europe. Within these walls, Lucca is a peaceful city of narrow lanes, preserving intact its original ancient Roman street plan; Lucca was a colony of ancient Rome in 180 BC. This is particularly evident in the Piazza del Mercato that echoes the shape of the original Roman amphitheatre and the doorways where the slaves and animals entered are still in use. Unlike several of Tuscany’s hilltop cities, Lucca is flat and many locals use bicycles, which lends the city added charm.

A view to the north from Lucca.
I think it was in the Piazza dei Servi we found a parking spot and occupied it with glee and set off in a random search for the sights of Lucca. I say ‘I think it was’ because it was only later in the day when we were hot and tired did we realise that we had made no note of the cars location and the randomness of our wanderings. But more of that later.
We walked along narrow cobbled streets until we found the Torre dei Guinigi. This is a medieval tower with Holm-oak trees growing at the top and from the top Adam and I had great views of Lucca and to the north the Api Apuane (Apuan Alps) some of Tuscany’s highest peaks, rising to 2,000 metres (6,550 feet). Vast areas of the mountains are designated as nature parks and the wild scenery attracts ramblers, trekkers and riders as well as hang-gliding enthusiasts.
We wandered around the very picturesque streets and while the ladies enjoyed window-shopping Adam and I bought shirts from Harry & Son shirtmakers in Lucca, (since 1936).

Adam and John with their shopping in Lucca.
We had lunch in an open-air restaurant in the Piazza Napoleone. The square is named after Napoleon, whose sister, Elisa Baciocchi, was ruler of Lucca (1805-1815). The statue in the middle of the square is of her successor, Marie Louise de Bourbon. The Piazza is one of very few that I saw that was ringed with trees. The Plane Trees provided great shade during the heat of the day. We then wandered around some more and found the cathedral of Lucca, San Martino. This cathedral dates from the 11th century. Its marble façade is asymmetrical to accommodate the adjoining belfry. With its columns, arcades and rich decoration the façade is an outstanding example of the exuberant Pisan-Romanesque style. It was enhanced by a stall that sold hot doughnuts made from an ancient recipe that seemed to feature lemon flavoured sugar, and they went down very well.
Late afternoon we decided it was time to leave, but we had no idea where the car was parked and wandered around hoping that we would stumble across it. Stumble being an appropriate word as Sheila’s legs were very swollen and sore, from the heat and she did not feel capable of wandering around the cobbled streets. Luckily Adam’s GPS works as well on foot and just after we had sat on a doorstep he shouted back to us that he had found the car. Good one Adam, we were much relieved
We went ‘home’ via the outskirts of Pisa again and the autostrada. Adam decided that he was going to make dinner that night and this featured:
Antipasto of red and yellow peppers stuffed with mortadella and anchovies, wild boar salami with truffles, sun dried tomatoes and a magnificent risotto with mushrooms, accompanied by some great wine. It was a great night under a black star filled sky, and the doves cooing gently in the background. Before I went to bed I made sure that Bugs Bunny had his share of dandelion leaves.
18th September 2003, Thursday.
Adam and Rosalind wanted to spend the night in Florence, and also did not want to leave us ‘stranded’ at the villa, so they suggested that I drive them into Florence and take the car. Again I was not confident of finding my way out from the centre of Florence, so I drove to the Piazza Della Calza on the outskirts, where there is a parking station, and it was easy to find my way back to the road south. Adam and Rosalind took a taxi the rest of the way, and we had a slow gelato, before heading south. Sheila and I decided that we would have a look around San Casciano and explore the narrow cobbled streets and have a quiet night at the villa. It was great to juts explore the local shops, that although serving a small town has a great range of goods, and we spent a long time in one shop in particular that has a huge range of the Alberto Alessi items. The designs are quite varied, but somehow all are instantly recognisable as part of the Alessi ‘Dream Factory’ that was established by Giovanni Alessi at Lake Orta neat Omegna in 1921. We took breads and salmi back to the villa for dinner, and also tried to use up some of the cornucopia that was resident in the fridge. We had a long slow dinner on the patio with a few gin and tonics, (in fact quite a few gin and tonics) and a very pleasant night.
19th September Friday
This was to be our second last day in Tuscany so we telephoned Adam and Rosalind and asked when they thought they might be home, and if they needed us to try and pick them up. Adam said that they would be back late afternoon and would get a taxi so not to worry about them.
Sheila and I decided that we would like to have a look at Siena so we took the autostrada south to Siena.
On the way to Siena we saw on the horizon the beautifully preserved fortified town of Monteriggioni that made me wish that we had more time to explore the whole region of central Tuscany.
Central Tuscany with Siena at is heart, is an agriculture area of great scenic beauty, noted for its historic walled towns such as San Gimignano and Pienza. The vine-clad hills to the north of Siena, where were staying in San Casciano, are dotted with farmhouses, villas and baronial castles.


Many are now turned into luxury hotels or rental apartments,
offering various leisure facilities such as tennis courts, swimming pools and riding stables: this is now one of the most popular areas for family holidays in the Tuscan countryside. Through the region is the S2 highway, an ancient road along which the pilgrims made their way in the Middle Ages, followed by 18th, 19th and 20th century travellers on the Grand Tour. Romanesque churches line the roads, and the valleys and passes are defended by castles and garrison towns that have hardly changed over the years.
The history of the region is of a long feud between the two city states of Florence and Siena. Siena’s finest hour was its victory in the Battle of Montaperti in 1260, but when Siena finally succumbed to the Black Death, and subsequently to a crushing defeat by Florence in the siege of 1554-5 the city went into decline. But today it has provided a reward in the same way as several other Central Tuscan cities that experienced the same fate; this lovely region became a forgotten backwater, frozen in time. And after centuries of ‘neglect’, the graceful late medieval buildings in many of the towns are now well restored/conserved, making this the most architecturally rewarding part of Tuscany to explore.
While we were walking around San Casciano the day before I had noticed that a small black cockerel was a symbol that appeared on many goods like wines etc and I asked the significance. The story I was told reflects the Florence Siena rivalry. It happened that one day the rulers of Florence and Siena decided that they would try and resolve their territorial disputes by sending out a horseman from their city at first cockcrow and where the horsemen met would mark the boundary of the territories. I guess this was before there was such a thing as Greenwich Mean time; but included concepts of horse breeding and skilful riders things that were important at that time. However the Ruler of Florence was not bound by considerations such as ‘fair play’ and the first cockcrow that they used as a signal to start came from a very young black cockerel that had been put to bed very early the night before. Of course the horseman from Florence had ridden a lot further before he met the rider from Siena. The Florentines cite this as evidence of their intelligence while the people of Siena cite it as evidence of their deceitfulness. Ah, well now we know why the feud has lasted so long.
The beautiful City of Siena, with its narrow cobbled streets and medieval buildings of rose coloured brick, is the natural starting place for exploring the heart of Tuscany, and this was our second last day; ‘typical’ was Sheila’s only retort. Luckily I could not read the Italian signs telling me that we should not drive into Siena leave our car outside and walk into the centre.

I had no idea where I was driving so we just squeezed through lots of very, very narrow cobbled streets where the pedestrians were very surprised to see us and a few walked out of shops into the side of the car. It was a good job that I was only doing about 5kph and we also saw a lot of Siena. It is very much like Lucca but larger with more up-market shops that excited Sheila’s interest. Pity we could not stop. I think it was in the Piazza del Mercato that we were spotted by a lady policeman, oops policewoman, and working on the principle that attack is better than defence I asked her to tell me where the nearest parking area was. She very kindly mentioned that cars were only permitted by hotel guests to drop off their luggage and we should leave and park outside then walk back in. It took us about another fifteen minutes to find our way out.
We found the parking areas but they were all full and no one was leaving. So we drove around some more. The principal sights of Siena are found in the network of very narrow streets and alleys around the fan-shaped Piazza del Campo that looks very much like the Piazza dei Mercato in Lucca. And in contrast to Lucca, scarcely any street is on the flat, as Siena, like Rome, is built on seven hills. We did notice the Town hall that was completed in 1342 and with a belltower that is the second highest medieval tower to be built in Italy.
The Palio is Tuscany’s most celebrated festival and takes place on 2nd July and 16th August each year in the Piazza del Campo. It is a bareback horse race and was first recorded in 1283, but probably had its origins much further back in Roman military training. The jockeys represent the seventeen ‘contrade’ or districts; the horses are chosen by the drawing of straws and then blessed at the local district churches. The races are preceded by heavy betting and much pageantry, but only last about ninety seconds each race. The winner is awarded a ‘palio’ (banner).
Because of the lack of parking, the heat and our unwillingness to walk up the long hills we decided to go back to the villa via lunch at San Gimignano. We had a very slow walk through the town and found a nice outdoor restaurant in a courtyard on the corner of Via San Giovanni, the main street, and Via Quercecchio. It had good shade, great Spaghetti Bolognese and a couple of very cold Italian beers. During lunch we noticed a sign on a wall on the Via Quercecchio pointing to a gallery where an artist painted her own ‘Fine Art Ceramics’. The workshop was only a minutes walk and the artist in residence is Angela Zei. Angela does not speak much English but her partner speaks very good English and is a very competent salesman. All the objects are classified by a collection name and each collection includes plates, canisters, vases, pitchers etc The designs in each collection can even be customised to include ones name, initials or variations to suit any themes.

The collection names reflect ancient and modern designs and include: Melograne, Roma, Notturno Limoni, Genova Fragole, Portofino, Elba and Botanica Mela.
It is well visiting her workshop/studio or at least visiting her web site at www.angela-zei.com if you quoted our customer code RT 0576 you will get a fifteen percent discount. Yes, we did become customers and a Notturno Limoni plate has a pride of place on a wall in the family room. We were very keen on a very large platter and an urn but when we asked about the shipping costs to Australia we were told that they had shipped one the week before and the cost was about $600 and that was much more than the cost of the ceramics. It felt very warm as we walked back to the car and when we checked on the thermometer in the car it registered 40.2 degrees, we were very pleased to crank up the air conditioning and have a couple of long drinks. As we had been to San Gimignano before we were confident that we would easily find our way back to the highway and San Casciano. Silly boy, but at least we saw another small village in the region and created a bit of interest for some of the villagers as we went around their houses a couple of times before heading back into San Gimignano and finding the correct way back ‘home’.
Adam and Rosalind arrived by taxi a couple of minutes after us and after a shower and shave we headed back into San Casciano for our last supper in Tuscany. According to the booking information we were asked to vacate the villa by 09.30, but the owner said that there was no hurry but if we left before 11.00 would we give the key to the maid as they were going into Florence early in the morning. We had another great meal outside our favourite restaurant. A huge round grill in the road opposite the restaurant fascinated me. When I looked down the grill it was clear that it covered a very large, very deep well at the bottom of which I could just see the surface of the water in the lamp light. It was a great meal eaten by a mixture of candle and moonlight with a soft balmy air that made the drinks even more appreciated.
20th September Saturday.
Yet another leisurely breakfast, packing and clearing out of the fridge, I felt a little sad leaving the remnants of the gin, whisky etc, but I guess that the next visitors would have appreciated Adam and Rosalind’s generosity.
We said our goodbyes to the villa, Buggs Bunny and the doves and left about 1030. I drove most of the way to Rome via the outskirts of Siena, and Perugia (and no we did not stop to sample the chocolates).
As we got close to Rome, Rosalind and Sheila needed a comfort stop and eschew the use of a bottle. After the stop I handed the car keys to Adam and suggested that he take over the driving and I would navigate. I should remember that I was an engineer not a navigator.
As usual we were okay until we got close to the centre of Rome. Under my guidance we found ourselves back in the outer suburbs and then we were in the outer outer suburbs i.e. Flaminco.
So working on the usual basis that I was probably 180 degrees out Adam headed back, via a railway crossing that seemed to be the only ‘u’ turn opportunity. After a considerable lot of luck and the wise choice by Adam of a bridge over the Tiber and a short cut up some tram tracks we found ourselves in the Piazza del Popolo very close to the hotel. But it took a bit more creative driving by Adam to by-pass the one-way streets to get to the Via Margutta and the Art Hotel again.
Adam in the Via Margutta in Rome.
Parking this time seemed like it was going to be a problem as the owner of the shop we had parked in front of last time said that he would be opening his shop soon and we could not park across his shop entrance. Adam and I dropped the ladies and the luggage in the hotel and drove around the corner into Via del Babuino a much larger, but busier street. About twenty metres down the street we found a parking spot and I checked the street signs for any parking restrictions but, as I don’t read Italian I did not find any. We looked around a little sheepishly and walked back to the hotel thinking that the car would either be ‘clamped’ or towed away. After a shower and a rest we all went for a walk and looked for somewhere for lunch. Very close to the Piazza del Popolo we found a hotel with a rooftop garden restaurant that provided a great lunch and some entertainment as we tried to guess the gender and affiliations of some of the other customers. We were feeling very relaxed but it became clear that ours was a very late lunch and the staff were keen to clear up and have their siesta. It was not a bad thought, so we decided that when in Rome do as the Romans do, and went back to the Art hotel for a siesta.
After siesta it was time for promenading with the natives, drinks and dinner. Many of the nearby bars were very full of people and smoke but on the Via Vittoria at 51 we found a new little wine bar called the Il Gabriello. It had only just been opened so was still to establish its own clientele so we were made very welcome and fed lots of snacks with our drinks. Snacks were fine, but dinner is better and not very far away we found a cellar restaurant with an extensive menu to which we gave due attention and respect. We were also provided some ‘entertainment’ viewing the exuberant reaction to unrequited young love. I guess if you are going to feel the full effect of love then Rome is the place to do it.
21st September Sunday
Our flight to Bangkok was leaving at 1540 so we did not hurry too much but with a little more urgency that Rosalind thought necessary. I admired Rosalind’s faith, but she did not remember engineer not navigator. At least we started off ok; the car was where we had left it, much to our pleasant surprise. For the first five minutes we were on track for the airport but then we could not turn left when I wanted to, after ten minutes we were completely lost and after twenty minutes we were headed for the outer outer suburbs 180 degrees away from the direction we needed. Still I figured that if we at least kept going straight we might/should find the ring road and once on that we could keep following the circle until we spotted the exit to the airport. I was not all that confident especially as the buildings gave away to fields, but was at least rewarded by a sign indicating that we were about to join the ring road.


I know that Adam was still a little sceptical when most of the signs indicated that we were on the right road to Florence. ‘U’ turns were not really an option at this point and my philosophy of ‘no worries she’ll be right’ turned out ok as signs to the airport started to appear as options. The traffic was bumper to bumper for about an hour and we started to watch the clock more closely but after the exits to Florence and a couple of others the traffic cleared and started to speed up. Just as we selected our ‘off’ ramp to the airport another car overtook us and then started to give off large clouds of black smoke. We were not sure what was happening and where it was so Adam accelerated and took a left swerve around where he thought the burning car was. Good choice Adam, though the ladies were not impressed with the odds of the risks just taken.
Returning the car was very straightforward and we found our way back through the maze to the Thai airline check-in counter. Check-in was a nightmare as we had to wait over an hour to get to the front of the queue and we were fifth in line. The only amusement was provided by other first/business class passengers who were trying to go straight to the front of the queue to exercise their quick check-in expectations and the existing passengers ‘gently’ pointing out that they were also first/business class passengers. The queuing strategies were then put into place and barriers created with bodies and luggage to ensure that no queue jumping was possible. It appeared that there were problems with the computers for that line of passengers, but none with the ‘cattle class’ so they were being processed far more quickly. It would have been even funnier if it had not been so hot and we had somewhere to sit and observe. The best were the pouts of the ‘ladies’ who had to retreat from the front of the queue as they flounced to the end while trying to cope with the indignity of queuing.
The flight to Bangkok was unremarkable as Sheila, Rosalind and I skipped dinner had a bit of a sleeping pill and woke in time for breakfast before landing in Bangkok.
Adam’s driver Khun Boonchuay met us at the airport with Adam’s car a new large Volvo with all the new gizmos and leather seats etc very, very nice and we were keen to see their new apartment. The drive to their apartment only took about thirty minutes, which was a great surprise to me after my last visit to Bangkok about ten years ago when it was a nightmare. Adam did say it had not changed much and it was a Sunday morning.
Adam and Rosalind’s apartment is on the 21st floor of a building next to a ‘klong’ canal. It is a huge apartment that is larger than our house and they have furnished it with magnificent taste and it should feature in magazines. Their ‘mee baan’ (housekeeper), Khun Noy met us at the door and she is a lovely Thai lady, very demure, hard working and a great chef.
Sheila and I went straight to bed for a few hours to recover from the flight.

John and Sheila in Adam and Rosalind’s apartment on Bangkok.

John and Sheila in Adam and Rosalind’s apartment on Bangkok.
Our first dinner in Bangkok was excellent in every way. After dinner Adam showed me some of his Ali G videodisc collection. I had never seen Ali G before and found it very amusing and a great way to relax before we retired for the night.
Monday 22nd September


Because we had a sleep in the previous afternoon we did not sleep all that well and I was amazed to find that Adam had gone to work, oh for the energy of youth. Sheila and I got up about 1000 and had a leisurely breakfast that included my Kellogg’s cornflakes and soymilk that Rosalind had been very kind and efficient in organising. After breakfast Khun Boonchuay took Sheila, Rosalind and I to the (Royal) Grand Palace.

The Grand Palace complex in Bangkok
The Grand Palace complex was established in 1782 and it houses not only the royal residence and throne halls, but also a large number of very exotic buildings. There are about thirty-five buildings open to the public and twenty-six other buildings in a area of 218,000 square metres, Suan Dusit. It is surrounded by white washed castellated walls about five metres high and 7600 metres in length. It is worth visiting the internet site at http://www.palaces.thai.net The Thai buildings in the grounds of the palace are without doubt some of the most beautiful buildings in the world, the graceful shapes, tiles, mirrors, gold inlay and fantastic decoration are truly awe-inspiring and it would be easy to spend a number of days just exploring the whole compound. The one building that is a focus of much attention is the Temple of the Emerald Buddha (Wat Pra Keow).
The Temple of the Emerald Buddha is both a sacred structure and a repository of the spirit of the entire Thai people.


Anyone (including tourists) visiting the Royal Palace and the temples must wear modest clothes, ie footwear that covers their feet, (no thongs), long trousers/skirts and shirts with long sleeves, or they will not be permitted to enter the grounds, as is customary with Buddhist temples, you must take off your shoes to go inside. I think that this regime encourages everyone to behave with appropriate respect and we were able to enjoy the special ambience of the temples.
Not only is the Temple of the Emerald Buddha a site where royal ceremonies are performed nearly the whole year around, it is also a place where people go for many reasons: to listen to sermons on Buddhist holy days and Sundays, to venerate the Emerald Buddha for auspicious benefits, to engage in meditation in order to develop a peaceful mind, to admire the beauty of the temple, or to study for themselves many aspects of the art.
The tradition of constructing a Buddhist temple in the precincts of the Royal Palace has existed in Thailand since the Sukhothai period (1240-c. 1438 A.D). When King Rama I (1782-1809) established the city of Bangkok, or Ratanakosin, as his capital in 1882 A.D.; he had the Temple of the Emerald Buddha constructed in the eastern section of the Royal Palace in order to install the Emerald Buddha, that he had obtained from the city of Vientiane in Laos. The construction took two years to finish and the famous image was transferred from Thonburi to the present site in 1784.
The Emerald Buddha is in reality carved from a large piece of green jade. According to a reliable chronicle, in 1434 A.D. lightning struck a ‘chedi’ in Chiang Rai in northern Thailand and a Buddha statue covered with stucco was found inside. A ‘chedi’ is a solid monument built to enshrine the relics of Buddha or those of his disciples and also to contain the ashes of the dead. The statue was brought into the abbot’s residence and one day he noticed that the stucco on the nose had flaked off and the image inside was green in colour. He removed all the stucco and found the Emerald Buddha.
People flocked to worship the precious statue. At that time the town of Chiang Rai was under the rule of the King of Chiang Mai, the largest city in northern Thailand. The King, Samfangkaen, sent an elephant to bring the Emerald Buddha to Chiang Mai, but each time the elephant arrived at the junction with the road to the city of Lampang, it ran to that town. The King sent an elephant out three times and each time with the same result, so he thought that the spirits guarding the Emerald Buddha wanted to stay in Lampang. Thus, the Emerald Buddha was allowed to stay in Lampang for 32 years, until 1468, when Chiang Mai had a powerful King, called King Tiloka.
King Tiloka had the Emerald Buddha brought to Chiang Mai and installed the statue in the eastern niche of a large chedi called Chedi Luang.
In 1551 the King of Chiang Mai, who had no son, died. One of his daughters was married to the King of Laos. She had one son, named Prince Chaichettha. When the King of Chiang Mai died the ministers of Chiang Mai invited the prince, who was fifteen, to become King and he accepted. However, when his father, the King of Laos died, King Chaichetta wanted to go back to Laos. So in 1552 he returned to Luang Prabang, the then capitol of Laos, taking the Emerald Buddha with him, promising the ministers of Chiang Mai that he would return. He never returned nor did he send back the Emerald Buddha, so the statue remained at Luang Prabang for twelve years.
In 1564 because King Chaichettha could not resist the Burmese army of King Bayinnaung he moved his capital down to Vientiane and the Emerald Buddha remained there for 214 years.
In 1778, during the Thonburi period, when King Rama I, first of the current dynasty, was still a general, he captured Vientiane and brought the Emerald Buddha back to Bangkok. The statue was moved from Thonburi to the Temple of The Emerald Buddha on 22nd March 1784.
King Rama I had two seasonal costumes made for the Emerald Buddha, one for the summer and one for the rainy season. King Rama III (1824-1851) added another one for winter. The ceremony of changing the costumes takes place three times a year. In the old days the King would spray lustral water (used for purification) only on the princes and officials who were attending the ceremony inside the ‘ubosoth’. An ‘ubosoth’ is an edifice inside a Buddhist monastery, surrounded by eight sacred boundary stones and within which the ordination of monks and other rituals may be performed.
But during the present reign, His Majesty the King Rama IX, also sprays lustral water upon his subjects who are waiting outside the ordination hall. It can be regarded as a new tradition inaugurated in this reign.
The lap of the Emerald Buddha is 48.3 cm wide and the height, including the base, is 66 cm. But it is placed so high from the ground on various thrones that it is difficult to appreciate the size. The image is in a seated position, with the right leg resting on the left one. This posture has significance as this iconographic indicator suggests that it was carved in Northern Thailand not much earlier than the 15th century and from the Chiang Mai school. If that conclusion were correct then the image would have been carved not long before its discovery in the chedi in Chiang Rai.



In the scene of the Enlightenment of the Buddha one always sees the Buddha seated under the Bodhi tree either in the attitude of meditation (having the right hand on the left hand in the lap) or subduing Mara (leader of the evil spirits) having the right hand on the right knee with the palm facing inward and the fingers pointing to the ground, with the left hand on the lap. The Earth Goddess is underneath, wringing out water from her hair, and the Buddha is flanked on both sides by the army of Mara (evil spirits); on one side they are trying to attack the Master and on the other they have already been subjugated. According to the Life of Buddha, before his Enlightenment Mara came and asked the Buddha what right he had to attain Enlightenment in this life and bring people out of ignorance. The Buddha replied that in his past lives (a Buddhist believes in rebirth) he had accumulated enough merit to attain Enlightenment in this life. Usually when one performs deeds of merit, even nowadays, one has to pour water on the ground to make the Earth Goddess one’s witness and also to give merit to the dead. The Buddha then changed his attitude from meditation to that of subduing Mara by placing his right hand on his right knee, calling the earth goddess up from the ground. She wrung from her hair the water accumulated from the deeds of merit that the Buddha had performed in his previous lives and this drowned the whole of Mara’s army. The Buddha then continued his meditation until he arrived at the Supreme Enlightenment. Sometimes this scene is explained as an allegory or personification of the thoughts of the Buddha. During this period the Buddha was undergoing a mental struggle as to whether he should go back to worldly pleasure or continue his meditation until he arrived at the Supreme Enlightenment. Once he had decided to continue his meditation, he put his right hand on his right knee as a sign of his determination not to get up from his seat until his great desire had been accomplished.
The subtleties of hand postures and gestures are something that many of us do not appreciate, but there is one that we need to be very conscious of and that is not to sit and point the soles of your feet towards The Buddha (or towards anyone else) as that is considered to be a sign of great disrespect.
Around the area that is the site of the Royal Monastery and the Temple of the Emerald Buddha are galleries that have painted on the back walls very large murals. They are about two metres high and hundreds of metres long, and constantly receiving attention from conservators. I was very surprised to find that is a Hindu story that is the theme. And yet it is a Buddhist temple. However Buddhism and Hinduism have intermingled in Southeast Asia since their first appearance in that region from India. In fact the Thai king, though a Buddhist, is also considered as an incarnation of Vishnu. I suppose there are some parallels in the Muslim Koran that mentions the Prophet Jesus as well as the Prophet Mohamed.
I wondered why the Christian Bible did not mention the prophet Mohamed then remembered that the Bible pre-dated the Koran by quite a long time.
The scenes are from the Ramakien, and were first painted during the reign of King Rama I. The first scene of the story is found next to the east gate. There is depicted the initial stages of the war waged by Rama of Ayothaya to rescue his wife, Sita who had been abducted by Thotsakan (Ravana), King of Longka. Further on there are a number of other episodes of the story: the building of the causeway from the mainland; the battle of Maiyarab, the magician who took the sleeping Rama to the underworld; the battles of Kumpakan the brother, and Indrasit the son, of Thotsakan; and other battles waged by Thotsakan, his other relatives and allies. The most significant battle in which Thotsakan loses his life is to be found just beyond the gate leading to the Royal Palace.
It was a very hot afternoon and we were very pleased that we had brought some bottles of water with us.
Ho Phra Monthein (the supplementary library).
We looked through most of the buildings except the Royal Apartments that are guarded by the military. Some of the buildings are pale imitations of some European museums featuring collections of guns and swords etc, but for us they did not much hold interest. I think the Buddhist temples that display the Thai architecture and art so well are the highlight and should be the main focus of any visit.
It would also be worth visiting Vimanmek: the mystical golden teak building that is the World’s largest golden teakwood mansion. This ‘palace’ teems with memories of the court of King Chulalongkorn at the turn of the 20th century. For six years it was the residence of King Chulalongkorn whose reign covered the important period of transition between the conservative ‘old’ and the progressive ‘new’ in the modern history of Thailand. It is incredible to think that it took only seven months, in the year 1901, to build the world’s largest existing golden teak building with its seemingly countless open galleries. Its charming ‘ginger bread’ fretwork that abundantly adorns the building allowing the sun to make lace patterns on the walls and floors. It has thirty-two main rooms not counting those on the ground level that are used mainly for storage. It has numerous charming porticos as well as its ‘grand’ stairway and delightful spiral staircases. It should be noted that, with the exception of the flooring, the entire building was assembled without the use of a single nail. This makes a lot of sense in the warm humid climate where iron nails have been the enemy of the structural integrity of many buildings in the past. It does not do much for those buildings today that have the concrete reinforcing exposed to the rain and are then subject to ‘concrete cancer’ as the reinforcing rusts, expands and cracks the concrete.
King Chulalongkorn lived in the golden teakwood palace before moving to a new stucco mansion, Amphornsathan, also in the compound of Suan Dusit. After his death in 1910, his retinue that had remained in Vimanmek, after his departure, had to leave, returning to the Grand Palace as tradition demanded. Vimanmek was deserted until 1925 when it was occupied for a few months by a consort of King Vajiravudh (Rama VI). It did not come to life again until Her Majesty Queen Sirikit had it extensively renovated and put to its present use in 1982 the year of the Bangkok Bicentennial.
After the Royal Palace we took a taxi to Jim Thompson’s ‘the silk shop’ in Bangkok. We had lunch in a restaurant in Jim Thompson’s, then Sheila bought a ‘few’ metres of silk, (“I can’t go home to the sewing group without buying silk from Jim Thompson’s”). After shopping, Rosalind organised for Khun Boonchuay to bring the Volvo and take us back to their apartment about 18.25 and not long afterwards another Thai feast prepared by Khun Noy.

Tuesday 23rd September 2003
In the morning Khun Boonchuay took Sheila, Rosalind and I to an area near the Royal Palace where we were to take a water taxi along the river and then a ride on the ‘sky train’. It started to rain as we boarded the ‘longtail boat’; these are basically very long canoes with a very large engine mounted on a deck at the back. The engine drives ‘directly’ a long shaft connected to a ‘screw’. The ‘skipper’ steers the boat by shifting the whole engine around to push the boat where he wants to go. There are hoops supporting covers over our seats but with the speed and the wind most of the water was coming at us horizontally and Rosalind and I used are umbrellas as shields, whereas Sheila just faced the weather and smiled. On the way we saw many coconuts and water lilies floating along and the skipper was careful to keep the ‘screw’ away from the coconut.
We also passed the Temple of the Dawn (Wat Arun), another very spectacular example of Thai building and decoration. However we also passed a very tall new building that was meant to be a Sofitel hotel, but it has never been occupied as it is sinking into the mud and is unsafe. It makes one wonder about the new underground railway that is being built. We were not surprised when we were told that in addition to mining engineers, tunnellers, hydrologists etc they also are using hydrographers, um, maybe one should not ponder that too much. We travelled by ‘sky-train’. The ‘sky train’ is very clean and very efficient and it did not take us long to get to ‘Central Chitlom’ department store, where lunch was our first priority. I was very impressed with the food court and its system. You get a card that you take with you to the various food stations and when you have made your selection they just ‘swipe’ your card and you pay the amount due at a checkpoint at the exit. It was a gourmet delight with about eight food stations that featured, Indian, Thai, Chinese, Italian, German, Vegetarian, etc. it was very easy to wander from station to station making selections of a little bit of this a little bit of that and in fact a lot of this and a lot of that. I had a very large iced coffee that has a Thai name that I forget, but it was very refreshing. It was not too expensive and a place that I would recommend.
Khun Boonchuay picked us up and took us back to the apartment where we were to shower and change before meeting Adam at his office and then going for drinks and dinner.
Adam’s office is in the same building as the Banyan Tree hotel and after meeting him in his office we took a lift to a roof top bar called the Vertigo Bar. I say take a lift but the bar can only be reached by climbing some very steep stairways that make sit seem very precarious and aptly named. After a few drinks I noticed a hissing noise and a large electrical storm surrounding us.

The thunder and lightning did not bring any rain with it, but it was very spectacular and the ‘hissing’ sound was static electricity. A couple of claps of thunder caused some of the staff to take cover in front of the bar, but they seemed to feel embarrassed and resumed serving drinks as we just sat and enjoyed the show. The show was made even more interesting when Rosalind’s hair started to stand on end. Rosalind asked me if it was safe to stay, “no worries just before it strikes lift one foot off the ground and then it will not travel through your body via your heart” was my reply, but I don’t think anyone was impressed with my reassurance apart from Adam who was keen to have another G&T. After a few more drinks we were taken to the Blue Elephant Restaurant and cooking school. It is located at 233 South Sathhorn rd; Yannawa, Bangkok 10120 and it can be accessed via the Sky-train station at Surasak. The building is a dazzling white, three storey, century old mansion that boasts the culinary wonders of Royal Thai Cuisine. The menu is a rainbow of traditional Thai and innovations that are the creations of the Corporate Chef Khun Chang and his assistant Khun Chumpol. The tables are laid with white linen and silver service that would do justice to the ‘best’ French restaurant and in fact the Blue Elephant Bangkok is part of a group that graces London, Paris, Brussels, Copenhagen, Lyon, Dubai, New Delhi, Beirut, Malta, Kuwait and Bahrain. It is a gourmand experience that would have to be on the list of life’s must do’s. Check it out via www.blueelephant.com there were very few tables making it an exclusive experience and I feel sure that the cooking school must subsidise the restaurant to make it economically viable. We were hoping to get an early night, as we were to have an early start in the morning, flying down to Langkawi to spend the weekend on Adam and Rosalind’s new boat.
According to my notes it was the Thursday morning 25th September 2003 that we were taken to the airport by Khun Boonchuay, but I don’t know where Wednesday went and this underlines the importance of keeping full notes and writing them up quickly after a holiday. So all I can say about Wednesday was that we must have spent it quietly in the apartment reading and eating. Anyway Adam, Rosalind, Sheila and I got the 1200 flight to Kuala Lumpur. It was a two-hour flight that was unremarkable, which is the sort of flight I like. We then were to get another flight back north to the Island of Langkawi. Apparently the Thai government believes that Langkawi is a competitor to their resort of Phuket and so will not permit direct flight from Bangkok to Langkawi. We had very little time for the transfer of flights but that still allowed a little time for drinks and appreciation of Kula Lumpur airport that I think currently is the best airport in the world in terms of design, cleanliness, ambience and efficiency.

When we landed at Langkawi we had about fifteen minutes to get through the airport and to the ferry jetty for the last ferry to the Rebak Marina resort located on a small island called Pulau Rebak Besar just off the east coast of Langkawi, in the Straits of Malacca and the Andaman sea. We made it with about thirty second to spare which spoke volumes about Adam and Rosalind’s travel skills and booking taxis ahead etc.
The tide was out so the ferry had to take the long way around Rebak, to the north rather than the southern access. On the ferry with us were some Canadians, two of whom were taking their eight year old son back to their yacht with a very large bag of books for his studies during the next part of their voyage. Just as we left the jetty the ‘Red Arrows’ R.A.F aerobatics display team took off from the airport where we had just landed. For the rest of our trip around Rebak we were witness to a very spectacular flying display that included some very low passes over the ferryboat. Sheila and I thought it very nice of Adam to organise this for us. Later on I discovered that they were there practising for a display in the following week when the British Aerospace Industry tried to convince the Malaysian Government to buy British.
When we disembarked and walked up to the reception area we saw two large Hornbills flying just over our heads. It was a very exciting greeting. After we unpacked and rested a little in our beachside wooden villas 421 & 422,
Adam and John on the back balcony of the villa.
We had dinner in a large open-air restaurant and bar area, marina lounge, where we could eat a leisurely meal and watch the sun set over all the yachts moored in the marina.

Friday 26th September 2003
Another leisurely breakfast, this time in the Marina restaurant and at last we walked down to the jetty and saw Adam and Rosalind’s boat ‘up close and personal’. It is a Mustang that they had built in Queensland, shipped to Singapore, where they qualified for their ‘masters’ certificates. They then had it moved to the Rebak Marina in Malaysia. It is gleaming white motor cruiser about 36 feet long with two staterooms, air-conditioning, fridge, toilet, shower etc. It is called Kobetai and it is best that you don’t know why.
‘Wow’ is a very suitable adjective and I was even more impressed with the ‘real’ GPS that has a large range of functions including depth sounding and plotting of trip ‘way points’ and many other functions that were ‘beyond my ken’.


Adam was the skipper and helmsman and Rosalind the crew and mooring bosun. Sheila and I were very impressed with the way in which they took the boat to sea. As soon we cleared the breakwater Adam advised us to be seated and hold on.

Good advice as he moved the throttle forward and we quickly leapt up to about 34 knots and we were thrown back into our seats.
Adam ‘skippering’ their boat.
We headed south for a while and then east to an area called the Fjords. It featured a number of small limestone islands, including Pulau Bumbon Besar, Pulau Bumbon Kecil and Pulau Tilol, covered in jungle, rising very steeply from the sea and set in an azure sea, it is a paradise. It reminded us of Halong bay, off the coast of Northern Viet Nam. Halong Bay is a designated world heritage area, but we think that the Fjord area of Langkawi is even better as it remains largely unexplored, unreported and does not have large ships using the area. We anchored for a while and then back to full throttle. Adam’s attitude to Captaincy of their boat is very much related to his driving of cars: full speed or stop. The times in-between to be kept to the minimum regardless of the state of the sea. I was amazed at how vigilant Rosalind had to be to advise Adam of floating coconuts and tree trunks, many of which could have done major damage. It did not take long to get back to the marina, we moored without much effort and had a quick shower and change before another great dinner accompanied by a quartet, they played modern music and some ‘golden oldies’. The more gin and tonics I had the better they got and the more beautiful the singer.
Saturday 27th September.
The first thing we had to do today (after breakfast) was to get some more fuel for the boat. At the time of writing there were no fuel points on the jetties of any of the marinas, though Adam said that a new marina under construction at Pantaikok near the north west corner of Langkawi will have a fuel point on the jetty that will have hoses able to reach the boats.


Apparently this initiative will have something to do with the previous President of Malaysia, Dr Mohamed Mathir, having a boat moored there. Meanwhile Adam took the boat to the jetty near the airport and then we got a taxi/minibus to a local village. Adam filled eight large containers with 400 litres of fuel and then back to the marina. Adam got a jetty trolley to transport them to the boat. He came to a ramp and decided to take it at the run to get the weight up the slope. Good idea, bad result, the axle of the front wheel collapsed and threatened to dump a couple of the containers in the water. Luckily a couple of the marina hands came along with another trolley and swapped it over and took the other one away saying: “no worries, we weld, fixed soon”. Adam has to siphon the fuel from the containers in the boats fuel tank. I though this might involve Rosalind sucking on the tube to set the siphon effect started but no! Adam put one end of the tube in the boats fuel tank one in the container and then squeezed the plastic fuel container until fuel was pushed through the tube to start the siphon effect. Very simple, very effective, but nothing like the yucky system that I used to use that involved sucking the end of the tube and trying to judge when it was starting to come through the tube and sticking it in the other tank before one got a mouthful. Four hundred litres of fuel made filling the car ‘pale by comparison’ especially when Adam said that it would be enough for about four days boating. After fuelling we went to a beach near the Banyan Tree resort, but the wind and tide meant that it was not ideal to anchor off that beach, so we went back to the Fjord area. On the way Adam asked me if I would like to take the helm. It was with some trepidation that I took control of the helm and the throttle. Especially since there was a bit of chop and at over thirty knots I had to brace my legs against the shock of each landing. However when we got to the Fjord area Adam took over and anchored the boat and we all had a swim off the boat and then a great lunch of sandwiches that Rosalind had organised from the marina. In the water we felt a little tingling and Adam and Rosalind said it was microscopic ‘stingers’ that one is conscious of, but that do not do much harm, I hope. The water was not as clear as we hoped and the snorkel gear did not help us to see much under the water, as at that time of the year storms stir up the waters and reduce visibility. We saw numerous sea eagles wheeling around the islands just basking in the thermals that moved them around the area with no effort on their part. Later in the afternoon we saw a monkey came down through the jungle to forage amongst the rocks and trees at the sea edge. Not long afterwards we saw more and more of the tribe come down for their afternoon snack.
Adam and Rosalind had some ‘fun’ retrieving the anchor that involved Adam diving down the anchor chain to free it up from the coral and also some advanced learning on capstan operations.
It was a great experience to see the monkeys so close to us, wild and without any concerns about our presence. The wind started to come up and brought with it some rain squalls; time to go back to the marina. Traversing these storm cells was a little ‘hairy’ and during one landing Sheila felt sure that her spine had been driven through the top of her head. Back in the marina we dried off and went to the marina bar and restaurant for more Gin and Tonics and dinner. The singer looked even more attractive earlier in the night and I felt in the mood to join in the singing. I think the others were relieved that I tired very quickly and went off to bed early. Something to do with sea air I think.
Sunday 28th September 2003.
Similar routine except this time we went to a small beach near the Fjord area on the small island Pulau Tilol, I think. Adam and I swam to the beach and saw some large hermit crabs; it was fascinating seeing them carry the shells, which they had occupied as their temporary home, with them. When we returned to the boat we saw a large monitor lizard exploring the rocks, it was about a metre long. We did ponder how the lizard might have got to this small island, later we saw it swimming so the question was answered. We had another short swim among the stingers and the ladies informed us that from the boat they could see some jellyfish of an unknown species near Adam and I. The ladies decided that they were of the venomous type so we climbed out for more sandwiches, discretion being the better part of valour. After lunch we headed back to the marina. I did ponder the thought that, here I was having lunch on a boat in the Andaman Sea on a Sunday afternoon and Wednesday morning I would be going to work at Charles Sturt University in Bathurst, New South Wales. Ponder is an appropriate word as it did not occupy my mind for too long. When we got back to the marina Adam and Rosalind stowed all the gear and washed and cleaned their boat while Sheila and I went to our room to pack. During the ferry trip back to Langkawi we were treated to another display by the Red Arrows that we thought was very appropriate. We had a little wait for the flight to Kuala Lumpur that took 55 minutes but it became a bit more interesting after we landed as we had about 15 minutes to get from our in country terminal to the international terminal. This included a sky-train trip, immigration and booking in. It was very fortunate that we were met ‘on landing’ by airport ground staff who escorted us at a run through the terminals, customs, immigration etc. This experience caused us to be even more impressed with Kuala Lumpur airport and the staff. Though we were seated in the very last row of the airplane to Bangkok, a small price to pay for getting the last flight of the day. When we got to Bangkok, Adam organised a limousine taxi to take us to their apartment to save Khun Boonchuay having to leave his family on a Sunday.
To say we felt exhausted would be an understatement, but it
all had been another set of great experiences. Early dinner and early bed as the following evening we were to fly back to Australia.
Monday 29th September 2003
A quiet morning, then Sheila and I started to pack and it became very apparent that the ‘case’ would not expand enough to take all the extras that we had acquired. Rosalind took me to Sukhumvit Rd where there were some luggage shops and negotiated a great deal on a cabin bag with a telescopic handle and wheels. We went back to the apartment by ‘tuk tuk’. That was another experience through the Bangkok traffic. I suggested that we should have taken the option of ‘pillion passengers’ on one of the many taxi motorbikes that tout for fares on most corners. A very cheap, but quite risky option not advised by travel books.
We were taken to Bangkok airport by Khun Boonchuay and Rosalind. We then had a bit of a shock at the book in-counter, when we were advised that our one case that was to travel in the hold was too heavy. Although we only had the one case and its wait did not exceed the weight allowance for two people it did exceed the weight limit for one piece of luggage. This was the first time that it had happened to us and we were not sure of what to do. The airline ground staffs was great and helped us by providing a cardboard box into which we could move some of our luggage to reach the weight limit for a single case. We transferred some books shoes etc into the cardboard box and the staff sealed it and checked both items in with no further problems. I was not sure that the box would make the trip ok but it all went very smoothly. We wondered why it had not been an issue before and suspect that it is probably related to some occupational health and safety regulations at Sydney airport. It makes sense because of all the luggage that the baggage handlers process every day, but I think it should be more widely publicised so they people know before they get to check-in and it would save a bit of angst for travellers and staff.
We arrived in Sydney just after 06.00 and our connection to Bathurst was not until 15.45, but as we got through customs etc with no problems we were able to get to the domestic terminal via the train this time. It is not a luggage friendly option either, especially if your cases are heavy. There are lots of stairs and escalators to navigate and not much room on the trains so it does involve lifting cases up and down many stairs. However we were in time to change our flight to Bathurst to 0950 (I think) and I was able to telephone Ian and talk about the change in our arrival time in Bathurst. It was no problem for Ian and it was great to fly in on a sunny day with clear blue skies and green fields surrounding Bathurst. Great to go away, great to be home!
There was a phrase in a guest ‘guide’ book in our room at the Rebak Marina that has stuck in my mind: ‘Where tides change, but memories linger’ very appropriate!


John, Sheila and Rosalind in Florence.
Sheila and Adam in Florence.

John, Sheila and Adam in Florence.
Sheila and Rosalind in Florence.

REFERENCES:

Buffalo Tours Vietnam brochure
Ha Noi, 1997; Xua Va Nay, Hanoi Past and Present; Culture – Information Publishing House
Nha Xuat Ban Van Hoa
Mason Florence; 1999; Hanoi, Lonely Planet Publications, Burwood Rd, Hawthorn, Victoria, Australia.
Oon Helen,1999; Singapore Globetrotter Guide New Holland Publishers (UK) Ltd 24 Nutford Place London. ISBN185974060X
Subhadradis Diskul, M.C. History Of The Temple Of The Emerald Buddha; The Bureau of The Royal Household & Amarin Printing and Publishing. Taling Chan Bangkok.
Eyewitness Travel Guides, (2000) ISTANBUL, Dorling Kindersley Ltd, 9 Henrietta St London, WC2E 8PS
Eyewitness Travel Guides, (2002) ITALY, Dorling Kindersley Ltd, 9 Henrietta St London, WC2E 8PS ISBN 0 7513 0105 1
Eyewitness Travel Guides, (2003) FLORENCE and TUSCANY, Dorling Kindersley Ltd, 9 Henrietta St London, WC2E 8PS ISBN 0 7513 4815 5
Vieusseux P.M;(1999) Portofino and its Promontory; Grafiche Milan Cards; Casa Delle Cartoline San Remo (www.casadellecartoline.it)

THE SONG OF THE GREAT SOUTHERN LAND

I was told this tale by a wise old man, not a scholarly man. His wisdom came from the lessons that he learned through his life. The wise old man possessed nothing, but his wisdom, he owned no land, he owned no light and he owned no air, but his wisdom endowed him with riches beyond compare.
In a land that is known for its industry, there was a very competent merchant who lived in a house near the sea. If he looked east in the morning he saw rugged mountains stretching their pointed fingers up to embrace the new warmth of the morning sun. When he turned his eyes west in the evening he saw the angry red sun diluted, and then absorbed by the restless heaving sea. When he looked north in the afternoon he caught vague scents of the lands of his forebears. When he looked south
he saw the battlefields of commerce. This merchant was also a traveller, and his miles had contributed much to his purse.
The size of his house and his purse were not a source of fulfilment to this man, and he decided that he would go to the fabled Great Southern Land. Such was the power of his purse that his journey was quick, and of no great consequence, and he soon found himself near a lagoon by a river in the Great Southern Land. As he sat in the shade of a tree a large kingfisher flew into the tree just above his head. The kingfisher looked
first one way, then the other, and began to talk to the man.
‘You are looking for happiness, but you have started your journey from the wrong place,’ said the kingfisher.
‘I am in no mood for riddles,’ said the man who seemed unconcerned that he was talking with a kingfisher, on the banks of a lagoon, near a river in the Great Southern Land.
‘I think that in your imagination you are the sphinx, the riddle sayer; not a catcher of fish with a raucous voice,’ declared the man.
The kingfisher laughed, ‘the judgment of a mere man, who strides in ignorance on this earth little more that three score years and ten.’
The man became angry, and he shouted at the kingfisher, ‘there are magnificent palaces I have seen. Great men to whom I have bowed my head, world mysteries that I have unravelled. All beyond the understanding of a fish catcher with a beak longer than the business for that it was intended. How can you know something, anything, of my world and my business?’
‘I listen to the wind that visits every corner of the world, I see the light that shines on all the lands and seas, I read the dust that tells of the construction and the decay, I listen to the songs that the earth sings.

‘What tunes do you listen to that inform you on your quest, searching man?’
‘I have listened to the greatest compositions, played by the best musicians on the most exquisite instruments,’ declared the man.
‘Fine music indeed, but what tunes do you listen that inform you on your quest, searching man?’
‘None,’ declared the man, then he paused for a moment, ‘will you sing me the songs that the earth sings to help me resolve my quest?’
‘Me sing the songs of the earth, me that has such a raucous voice. No I cannot sing them. But I can perhaps take you to a place where you will be able to hear the song of the Great Southern Land. But you need to be willing and brave, willing to take the risk, and brave enough to live with the consequences.’
‘I am willing to take the risk, and I have the strength to overcome any consequences,’ vowed the man.
‘But are you brave enough to live with the consequences? Asked the kingfisher.
‘I am,’ said the man, ‘lead me to where I can hear the song of the Great Southern Land.
The kingfisher flew slowly away from the lagoon, and in low circles leading the man to a cave near the northern bank of the river.
The kingfisher waited until the man sat down at the mouth of the cave, then said, ‘face to the west let the setting sun light up your mind, and count from ninety eight backwards to one, each time you count breathe out your thoughts and memories.’
The kingfisher watched intently as the man did as he was instructed, ‘now lay down, and place you ear to the earth of the Great Southern land.’ As the man lay down the kingfisher flew away.
The evening mist on the river climbed up to the mouth of the cave, and embraced his brain with its coolness. He did not feel the ground, he did not feel the air, did not see the moon or stars. The man was falling into an abyss that had no sides, had no end.
But there was no fear. Then from a great distance he heard a small sound. It became slowly louder, slowly closer it was the tinkling of raindrops, the music of the water on the ringing stones, the songs of the water as it takes with it memories of its source to the seas. The man shivered with anticipation, he knew he was listening to the overture of the Song of the Great Southern Land.
The song told of great fires from the centre of the earth, molten fires that scoured the earth and fought the seas beneath clouds of steam.



The fires retreated in the face of the coldest winds, and walls of ice pushed and pulled the land into shapes that made the earth groan, and the rivers solid. It was a powerful melody, strong clean notes, untainted, pure. This was the first part of the Song of the Great Southern land that the man was feeling.
The music faded into the distance, to be replaced by a haunting melody, which was increasingly interrupted by a discordant note. This note was the voices of men, he did not know their language, but he knew their meaning. ‘Slash and burn, kill and devour!’
The wind told of their deeds, the sun glared disapproval, the dust evidence of their construction, and their decay. This verse of the Song of the Great Southern Land was melancholy, but true. Soft voices urged gathering the natural bounty of nature, but the killing cries, the blood lusted voices were more strident, and the soft voices faded into dreams.
The tune changed again, deep rumbling sounds of the sea, and the winds that brought ships to the shore of the Great Southern Land. The rumblings became a roar, the roar of canons and muskets, the anguished cries of the injured and dying, the whimpers of the whipped; a symphony of death! The winds told of their deeds, the sun glared its disapproval, the dust - evidence of their construction and decay.
This verse of the Song of the Great Southern Land was strident, but true. Soft voices urged gathering the natural bounty of nature, but the killing cries, the blood lusted voices were more strident, and the soft voices faded into dreams.
The music changed again, and from the depths of the abyss, the harsh sounds of metal upon metal hammered the man’s ears with their noise. ‘Bigger, higher, better, more’
These were the words that the chorus shouted. The winds told of their deeds, the sun glared its disapproval, the dust evidence of their construction and decay. The birds listened to the wind, and fell dead to the ground, the animals looked at the sun as it bleached their bones, the bodies of the fish were carried by the rivers to feed the decaying reefs in the seas, and the soft voices faded into dreams.
The man felt an ache in his shoulder and hip, and rubbed his eyes as he became aware that he was at the mouth of a cave, on the northern banks of a river in the Great Southern Land.
‘I have heard the Song of the Great Southern Land,’ he said to himself and he walked down to the river to get a drink.
The man returned to his land where the sun rises in the mountains, and sets in the sea, and he went about his business. But he was not at peace, he had heard the Song of the Great Southern Land, and the tunes intruded into his mind every day and every night.

The man sought the counsel of many ministers of many religions, but their songs were songs of praise for their gods, their creations. They knew nothing of the Song of the Great Southern Land. He travelled north to the land of his ancestors, and the dust from their graves lingered on his hands trying to communicate. But the calls of industry drowned out their subtle lullaby.
At last he found his way to a wise man. Not a scholarly man, a man that had learned his lessons from his life.
‘Ah,’ said the wise man, ‘I have heard this story from other men, what is your intention?’
‘I think, perhaps I need to go back to the Great Southern Land,’ said the man almost as a question.
‘Will you live there?’ asked the wise man, he had not finished learning.
‘I have heard some of the Song of the Great Southern Land, and I need to know the climax of this composition.’
‘I know not if I can live there, but I know that I will die there.’ ‘I have heard the Song of the Great Southern Land.’ ‘Wherever I travel I hear the wind lament of the deeds, I shelter from the glare of the sun’s disapproval, I try and shake the dust of the construction, and decay from my boots.’ ‘I have heard the Song of the Great Southern Land, I will be a footsore traveller over the ways of the world until the day of my death. At my death the scant hope that my requiem will be the soft voices from the dreaming, singing the last most powerful chorus for the Song of the Great Southern Land.’

John Lunn