Rocamadour

We visited the sanctuary at Rocamadour several years ago in the middle of winter so we returned yesterday to check things out while it was a tad more ‘ouvert’. The last time we were here it was under scaffolding but this time the Black Madonna was suitably attired in a frock and crown along with her accompanying child. She is truly beautiful and, I think, looks a lot better sans dress but perhaps she is a little warmer in her robe. The village below is full of the usual tourist shops but has a pleasant feel and isn’t too overdone.

Perhaps we’ll come back in another few years.

On Top of the Roc

After a hairy drive along a single track we ended up at a peaceful aire on the top of a hill. The medieval village of Peyruss le Roc is (to use a well worn cliche) a trip back in time. The village is famous for its medieval church, synagogue and a very early tomb of a king. There is no commerce to speak of apart from a pottery shop and a small bar but perhaps in high season there’s a bit more going on. The views were spectacular and it was good to have the place to ourselves after everything else has been so busy. Here are a few photos of our visit. It’s funny that wherever we go Graham manages to find himself on the Camino de Santiago de Compostela.

Mende Madonnas

Our circuitous route over the mountains has brought us to Mende, a town with two Black Madonnas. The first sits in the Cathedral; she is made from olive wood and wears a yellow robe. I can’t help thinking she’d look better without the frock. The second is in a niche on the Rue de Notre Dame and has an inscription above her which, when translated, reads “I am black and beautiful’.

We’re parked by the river and I was a little disturbed to see the fire brigade parked next to Dickie when I returned from the supermarket. Luckily the river isn’t flooding, they're just doing some anti-pollution work.

Couleures

We’ve been doing a tour of medieval villages since we’ve been back in France - Rosans, Aubignas, and now Mende with two fabulous Black Madonnas (next blog). Oh, and we popped in to Digne Les Bains for a massive slog in the heat up to the chapel of St Pancras (the sign said 1.5 km but it was actually 3km each way and mostly uphill). Ugh! Graham loved it and it was worth it when we got to the top.

The roads are still windy but the many colours of the autumn leaves take my mind off it -an absolutely stunning drive through the clouds as we snaked our way through the National Park of Cevenne today.

Witchy Village

Several years ago our friend John Smart told us about a village called Triora in the Italian Alps that is famous for its witchy past. It’s apparently known as the Salem of Europe as, in the late 16th century, several women were burnt as witches after a bit of bad weather a few failed crops. It’s been on our bucket list for a while so we made our way up the (yet again) steep and windy road to a parking place at the top of a hill.

The village is proud of its witchy history and has its own small museum of witchcraft in the basement of the ethnography museum. Upstairs there’s a rather fun collection of dolls and the usual agricultural implements but downstairs the witchcraft section is mainly a few torture tableaux and occult books along with its replicas of the trial records. It’s a little dusty and they take the cobweb theme to another level but it was interesting to see how another museum presents the subject. The Boscastle Museum of Witchcraft still wins.

Around the village we found paintings with witchy themes dotted around on doors and boards propped up against walls. The countryside and views were superb but the road back down to the coast was a nightmare.There’s a massive Halloween festival here but we were a week to early and we’re not going back.

The satnav took us on a different route back to the coast and to say t was treacherous at times would be an understatement.it was pretty much single carriageway for 20km and in two sections a large part of the roadway had fallen away and we had to sneak past the orange tape with a massive drop on MY side of the van. Even Graham was worried and he’s usually pretty fearless when it comes to scary roads. It took us about an hour and a half to cover that 20kms and I almost ran out of rescue remedy.

We’re now back in France nad not quite out of the Alps but hopefully soon we will be trundling along some lovely wide flat French avenues so my blood pressure can return to normal.

Along the Adriatic

The northeastern part of Italy is totally different to where we’ve been the last few days. There is a distinct lack of a medieval vibe along the Adriatic coast. Most of the towns we’ve been through are relatively modern, that is apart from Loreto. Its Black Madonna (who is the patron saint of pilots due to the fact that the Virgin Mary’s house was flown there from Nazareth by angels) is pretty impressive and I’m loving her ruby encrusted dress.

The weather is fabulous and I was tempted to pop in for a swim at the beach in Fano where we stayed last night but the stony beach was a bit too much for my feet to handle. We had to put up with staring out at the bright blue sea instead.

We were toying with the idea of heading down to Greece but the roads in Italy are horrendous and the weather has been pretty bad down south so we’ve stuck to the sunshine and will go to Greece next year via any route that doesn’t include Italy. Don’t get me wrong, Italy is a beautiful place with lovely people and great food and wine but the tunnels, mountains and bumpy road surfaces are too much to handle. Dickie is coping well.

Tonight we’re staying in Comachio, which is known as little Venice. The canals here are lovely but I think the town itself has seen better days. It’s famous for its eels and we were amused to see plastics eels in every shop window, even one poking out of the neck of a little girl’s dress in a children’s clothing shop. Terrifying.

Tomorrow we’ll make our way back across to France and hope to stop in at Triora, a witchy village near the french border. We hear there is a small witchcraft museum there. It’s at the top of a hill so more twiddly roads - sigh.

Gubbio

On our way to see the Black Madonna in Loreto we have stopped in Gubbio and were delighted to see it has its own Black Madonna in the cathedral.

Famous Footsteps

We’ve decided we now know why Italian towns are built on hills - it’s so you can walk off the 500 courses of lunch you eat on a daily basis.

Bagno Vignoni

Gubbio in Umbria is a stunning medieval town in Umbria and we turned up here today after a day in Cortona. First stop was lunch - menu of the day included bruschetta, pasta with truffle sauce, pork steak with fries and desert for 15 euros. Having just come for Tuscany where the course were pretty small (relatively speaking) we didn’t think twice about ordering the menu. Big mistake! Each course was a full meal in itself and it was with a  Monty Python-esque ‘just one more wafer’ that we squeezed the pan Acosta desert into our wilting mouths.

To walk off the calories we forced ourselves to climb the steep hills to tread the paths once walked by medieval princes and by one of my favourite authors, Herman Hesse. Yesterday we bathed in the thermal baths of Bagno Vignoni that my confirmation saint (Catherine of Siena) dunked her holy body in on her way to Rome. What joy!

A Tuscan Pootle

The coastline along Tuscany was almost bad enough for us to turn around and head back to France. The roads are dreadful, it’s very busy and it was just unpleasant. Luckily we headed inland and all improved massively. We stumbled on a small hilltop village called Murlo; home to a particularly gorge restaurant called Il Libridinosa that serves local organic food. Two meals and two bottles of wine later we slept in the car park and I visited the Etruscan museum there the next morning.

We were excited to hear of a nearby site that boasted a sword in a stone but, sadly, it had nothing to do with King Arthur. At the Abbey of San Galgano the 12th century saint himself had thrust his weapon into the rock as a sign of peace and redemption. The abbey is now a deconsecrated ruin but still stunning. The small hermitage, home of the aforementioned sword, is still used as a chapel and we got a rapturous telling off by the ancient woman gatekeeper for taking Hugo inside. He had been allowed at the ruin but not the chapel - the fact that it was swarming with cats didn’t seem to count.

From there to Montalcino. Unfortunately Graham was still recovering from too much wine the night before to sample any of the local wines but I rallied and tried a hint of the grape. I must say we’re getting a bit of a taste for Italian wine - we’ve not been great fans before but I think we just hadn’t had the right ones - and at £3 a bottle who could say no?

We’ve decided to hang around this area and visit small hilltop villages, eating pasta and drinking wine (well, me at least). Mr Fluffy always said he didn’t like Italian food but he seems to be having a great time shovelling copious quantities of pasta and gelato into his personage.

Luni Mare

Luni Mare was not so bad. We read a few poor reviews from visitors but as we are interested in archaeology we decided to go anyway. It’s a Roman ruin in Liguria not far from La Spezia and has a free car park so we decide to stay the night there. While it was a little, shall we say ‘unloved’, it was still pretty interesting. The museum holds some lovely marble statues and other roman artefacts but the actual Temple of Luna is rather a disappointment. The amphitheatre is a short walk from the main site and was pretty impressive.

Snap snap - amphitheatre action

It was good to see a group of archaeology students digging trenches and shovelling dirt in good old Time Team fashion. Below are some pics of the site.

You’d think it would be difficult to take a bad picture of a temple of the moon - but no.