The church, one of seven in this tiny town of 2,000, had been completely altered over the centuries, and the restorers were digging away, frequently unearthing new important finds. After excavating over fifteen feet, they had found a second door under the modern one, various old crypts (all Italians, I learned, were buried at the church until the time of Napoleon, when graveyards were created), some 14th and 15th century frescoes, and various other treasures. The restorers showed me around, happy to meet someone that cared, and I learned a lot about the process, most importantly the fact that it is rarely a precise science. Sometimes that hidden fresco tears off the wall, as you dig away the covering dirt. I also learned that they could dig for years more and find perhaps a whole medieval town, but that lack of funds kept the findings modest in comparison. Italy is so fully saturated with cultural and artistic treasures that history moves faster than the country's ability to unearth, study, and appreciate them. An enviable predicament, if you ask me.
After my church tour, I went and thanked Giuseppe the grocer for helping me find lodging, received a couple postcards in return, and was soon off down the mountain once more to Sapri.This was my last stop in Campania, and it was a charming little town, an oasis before the rocky terrain of Basilicata. Still, not too much to recount here: find a hotel, chat with the local soccer squad (Serie E, probably at a College Division III level), dessert on them, pizza and a beer for dinner, 0 for 3 on open internet cafes, and so on.
And I'm stupefied at the fact that this day, remarkable as it would have been on its own, becomes run-of-the-mill in the context of this trip. If only every day of my life could carry this level of interest.
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1 comment:
indeed Patrick
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