Tag Archives: Meta

the old stones



*photo of one of the citadelle’s wall in Bonifacio, September 2016)

They have to retain

(the stones, the old ones)

in their dark coldness

prayers and sobs

and the splendors of joy


The musiciens*



musiciensmeta1.jpgEvery day, getting on the train,

the clever ones, I entertain,

while they wake up, slowly

taping, discretely,

but never, never give me any money



*On the platform,  two musicians  stand by and look at the travellers with suspicion. They  caught my attention because they do not seem to live in another world (that of music), like other musicians I cross  sometimes path with.

When the train arrives, they climb on the train, play their instruments, then pass, resentful,  in the wagons, openly asking for money, casting contemptuous glances at those who do not give anything, and omitting to thank those who do not give enough. All the hardness of life in their rugged faces.

Leaving Italy ?

What I liked:in  Meta, Luigi, Rosaria (best pizza), bells and roosters that punctuate time, going  to the  cliff to admire the view, Antonietta (the coolest nonna). In Naples, I loved the energy of the city that overflowed, observing the students of the University. In  Pompeii, immersing myself in the life of a city from the past, remembering  that art is a visceral need of humanity (and perhaps the only thing that can save humanity), hearing  an opera song. On the Amalfi Coast, the view from the road between Sorrento and Amalfi. Seeing dolphins having fun following   a small boat from the road. Seeing how the Italians seem to constantly portray small moments of everyday life: the woman who protested strongly to the ticket seller for minutes, and then goes back, as an encore. The elegance of female cops  (which gives almost want to become one).

What I did not like: Leaving Meta  after a week, I already felt  at home. Sorrento, far too touristy. Capri: too many tourists, too, although I can see why it once attracted people. I find myself in the awkward position of the tourist understanding why the  citizens of Venice protest to reclaim their city. The nonna who counts his money behind the counter and is not very nice with her granddaughter doing all the work.

I am now on route to Sicily. And many claim this is a different country (anyway, this is what an Italian friend of mine in New Zealand claims).

A week in Meta (Italy)

I arrived with the night ferry from Cagaliari in the Bay of Naples, at eight thirty, a moment I had imagined many times, bathed in the morning sun, but that day, it rains. Need to find a taxi to the central railway station and on the train to Meta, for a one   week stay  on the Amalfi coast. This village seems an ideal base  for visiting Sorrento, Naples, Pompeii, Positano, Amalfi and Capri. Meta is a few kilometers from Sorrento and is much cheaper, while allowing easy access by bus or train to where I want to go. The big surprise of the week  is however Meta, a small  authentic village with  few tourists (at least at this time of year. I felt immediately comfortable there, largely thanks to Luigi who, at  seventy -seven years old,  has been managing  for twenty years   the apartments he decorated  himself. The  views from the apartment are beautiful and the streets go  down to the beach. From the first day, Rosaria, which has a small bakery and a pizzeria business,  sells me what I want and many other things, including fresh cheese (paradise). She also offers me a pizza, but I say I’ll come back the following day. I went to  Rosaria’s  every day and by the second day, she started greeting  me as if I had always lived in Meta. The views from the cliff on the small bay is enchanting. Luigi introduces me to lemoncello, a  lemon base liquor  and spend a lot of time  explaining  the  transport system and how to maximise, buses, trains and boats. He sometimes talks about his life. IMG_0413.JPGAt Antonietta, I discovered the benevolent gaze of a nonna who runs a small cafe with an iron hand, no doubt, but also with much love for the three generations that are working to run this small restobar.