Trying to explain the relief I felt when finally seeing the sight below is nigh on impossible. Yes I love the bus dearly and would of been upset to have seen her gone on my return to Pisa from England, but in essence it is a material object and could be replaced and replicated. The relief came from finally being sure that the irreplaceable inside, Mums ashes, were safe and her journey was ready to continue.
I knew I was safe on the flight out of Pisa....
Mums love of films, my curiosity, and the memory of her last birthday that we spent together are what took me from Pisa to Volterra. Mum had joined the many who are gripped by the ideas of the latest revamped stories of vampires and their underlying theme that seemingly always includes a love story between a male of the species portrayed by type as being evil, cruel and cold blooded and a human woman. He then being unveiled as a misunderstood once human who becomes able to rise above his destiny as an abhorred and feared ghoulish night walker through the love, compassion, understanding and acceptance of the woman in question. He exhibiting a faithfulness, protectiveness and honour seldom acknowledged as existing in normal men and belonging to the realms of the tales of knights of old and the fairy tales that accompany them.
They often strike me in this respect as an adult twist on Beauty and the Beast. The idea that the true love of a woman can see through the outer persona and make a 'bad' man good. However, it is easy to forget. All the 'bad' men in these fables were good before being cursed and are never simply 'made' good from bad.....
Mums birthday fell during the showing of the latest Twilight film and so we spent the evening sat in the cinema with Mum glued to the screen in her normal way. If you ever tried talking to her when she was watching something you'll know how glued I mean. Something which always made me laugh as many a time you could wave your hands in front of her eyes and perhaps perform an impromptu jig before you'd actually get any form of response. Of course this time it was also helping remove her mind from the pain and discomfort that had become a constant figure on her face behind the smiles aimed to disguise.
So it was when spotting Volterra on the map, the imaginary home of the Volturi seen in the film that birthday, that I headed to see how it's description and history in reality compared to it's description in the books. Also aware that the film location actually chosen was Montepulciano. Volterra is a walled city of Etruscan roots, similar to many of the ancient walled cities to be found in Italy. The similarities to the descriptions in the book are there, but the one chance similarity that had me smiling wryly was the ancient council building, as portrayed as the hiding home of the Volturi. The lift here clearly stating from its outer push buttons that the floors above the 1st were not to be visited by the public. Although I hasten to add I saw no diminutive women in cloaks with translucent skin, no one who glittered in the sun, and no screams of pain or howls of delight from within those walls. Mums wonderful gullibility added to that smile, thinking of the teasing fun that could of been had in the 'home' of the vampires.
The journey through Italy took in all of the places I had promised to show Mum during those long chats we had together in her final weeks planning the trip ahead for her return to Turkey. Turkey was hers to share with me, Italy mine to share with her. From Pisa through the sun drenched roaming landscapes of Tuscany. Tripping along the coast line via the road which should the sea rise, will leave Porto Santo Stefano an island, on through Civitavecchia to Rome. A tour of the tranquil lake Lago di Bracciano. The night of Terracina whose name, and brooding oppressive mountain backdrop in the darkness of night led to a ridiculous bought of irrational fear and a scurrying need to escape. The madness of Naples, like a termite hill, people swarming amidst the cavalcade of horn happy cars, the dirge covered walls that bely hidden splendours, then on to the wonderment of Pompeii. A full circle of the Amalfi coast, stood upon its back to watch the sun unveil it's spine of mountains. Positano hidden to the right, Sorrento to the left. Continuing down to Paestum and Agropoli, then turning left so to speak, to scale the Vallo di Diano and Appennino mountain passes. Through small forgotten villages where the old men sat outside the small cafes and bars, nodded and tipped their caps. Some taking leave of their chairs to stand and seemingly acknowledge Mums passing.
From the mountain ranges I dropped down once more to the coastline and to Eraclea. Then, with Mums love of shoes in mind and those ever higher heels, I took to explore the 'heel' of Italy taking in Gallipoli, the truly amazing endlessness of the views from Capo S Maria di Leuca greeted by angels, stopping at Zinzulusa for no other reason than I could imagine Mum using it to name a cat...... from there it was onwards to San Cataldo and then finally to Brindisi to bid a fond farewell to Italy and board the ferry for Greece.
There are many small stories to be told of the journey through Italy. The Sicilian families that huddled close around the bus, asking questions, exchanging email addresses, pictures, an invitation to visit their homes and explore the beauty they told me that is Sicily, and their heartfelt condolences on listening to the reason behind the journey. Seeing the looks of surprise on their faces when the following morning I greeted them with a small gift of a plate, bowl and cup from the set in the bus adorned with their very own version of a VW camper.
The Italian couple who came and had a chat whilst we were both parked for the night on the beach near Santa Severa. The base for journeying in and out of Rome. He asking me several times if I was travelling alone, even looking in and out and around the bus as if to check. Turning to his wife and then back to me and asking 'how do you eat? Who does your washing?'. His wife laughing whilst I said the only thing possible being 'I cook, and me'. He wouldn't take no for answer, so for that night I was the guest of their motorhome for dinner and wine on the beach. Although I did manage to talk him out of his wife doing my washing for me.
On the very same beach watching as the moon sank into the sea before midnight. Truth be told I reasoned to return after my drive around Rome the next day simply to prove to myself that it really did happen. Then whilst sat waiting for the moon to fall, receiving a tap on the shoulder from the beach restaurant owner to let me know that their was a birthday party in progress and to warn me that they would be letting off fireworks. Mum would of sat in awe at the private firework display over the sea whilst simultaneously the moon sank away from view. I could almost hear her ooohing, aaahing, cheering and clapping.
The scooter rider in Rome whom whilst we were both sat at the traffic lights proceeded as follows;
"Hello, what model is your car"
"Hi, it's a volkswagen camper, 1969"
"Ah, it reminds me of flowers, the Beatles"
Laughing "You mean like a hippy bus?"
"Yes, makes me think of cannabis. I lurrrrve cannabis!"
Cue the lights changing whilst i'm sat in fits of laughter as he scoots off to who knows where. I was in the process of recording the drive to the Colosseum, so I do have the episode on video and will see if I can persuade the gerbils to run fast enough to load it onto here at some point.
The morning escaping the continual rush hour that is Naples to head for Pompeii. The now normal waves, toots and cameras suddenly joined by a couple of young men in a Vauxhall Astra. Pulling alongside, giving the thumbs up and I expecting them to carry on past but noticing that instead they were matching my speed with the occasional shared glances. A little odd I thought, waiting perhaps for the camera to appear. Instead I was greeted with their stereo being turned possibly as loud as it could go and the opening to Jimi Hendrix Purple Haze blaring out whilst they cheered and threw their hands in the air at their idea. If you are that way inclined, seek the track out on youtube and try picturing it for yourself. It was akin to a mini Waynes World moment as they cruised on arms aloft from the windows.
There are many others, mainly involving alternative coffee mornings with ladies of disrepute, roadside cleaners, episodes of the practicalities of clothes washing in the wild coupled with my still not outgrown need to always check by smell, but i'll leave those for another time.
I promised pictures, so here is a taste of Italy. A country I wish so much Mum could of seen with living eyes.
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