Notes of Travel

New Zealand Tablet, Volume LII, Issue 16, 6 May 1925, Page 25

Notes of Travel

AMALFI. (fßy J.K.)

i^wl know the boldness and grandeur of our New Zealand scenery, better,than most people. I have more than once admired the wonderful hike and mountain scenery of Switzerland. Killarncy has' charmed me when its loveliness ' of mountain, hill, and woodland was framed in the glories of an autumn sunset. I have seen the French Riviera several times and at various seasons of tho year. ' And, after it all, had I to decide what scenery I thought est;in the world, I should give my vote to 1 tho ! Amalfi coast without; much hesitation. You have seen pictures of it, and, no doubt, you have said that all this riot of color was " exaggerated by the artist, but if you saw the reality, you would agree that not. even Claude Lorraine or Salvator Roasa could do it. justice on canvas. Several people whom, I met insisted that on no 'account must. I miss the. road from '' Sorrento to Amalfi, and thus it was that on a sunny 'morning of January, in this land of eternal summer, I drove a bargain with a motor owner who would take me to Amalfi and back for two hundred and fifty Italian lire — forty-five shillingsfor the most '/delightful road in the whole world. IWinding 'up the hill out of Sorrento the way lay through a landscape of luxurious beauty. The azure sky, the blue sea, the boll crags on the mountain'tops,' and the vines and ;, oranges and flowers ,-on ,tho-lower slopes made '* a wonderful picture. When we reached the top of the watershed the scene began to change and the landscape assumed a wilder ! and bolder aspect. Then a turn of the road brought us within view of the Gulf of Sal- , ? erno, with its wild and rugged coast s rising | triumphantly out of the sea. Half : way v up,

between sea and mountains, the..road ran, winding and climbing and descending and never leaving the sight of the blue waters far below. Italian labor carved this great highway in the solid rock, and built those lofty viaducts over, ■ which we crossed deep and gloomy ravines. And let no man who has seen such a road ever boast of Anglo-Saxon superiority over the Latin people.. If is a marvellous road. It skirts mighty headlands and passes through towns and villages, perched'like eagles' ; nests between mountain and sea. There is nothing else like it, and

even the French Riviera is absolutely tame when compared with it; it is Europe's true corniche road. And this tdventurous road is a path: of old romance. You see here J and there gaunt towers on rocks above the | sea, ami you learn that they were built in far-off days by the Saracen pirates before the Normans rode into this lovely land. Even in tho architecture at present the name of-the Sultan seems written." Here, for instance, is Positano,' as beautiful as a dream, with its;Oriental roofs and minarets; here, again, is Furore, hidden deep in a ravine, and fit lurk-ing-place for those white-turbancd raiders of olden times. And so the road winds along, through Vettica Minore, Lone, etc., until at last you see before you the delightful vision of Amalfi, set against its background of hills, with its churches and towers shining in the sunlight, like a city of fairyland. This city was founded by the Byzantine Empire. Later it grew powerful and became itself a Republic. It can boast that it awakened to freedom the cities of Italy, and it was strong enough to defy the Saracens, and even to put up a great fight against tho all-conquering Normans. Once Amalfi was the fifth city of medieval Italy, with a population within its walls of 50,000 people," and a territory that extended for many leagues all round it. She sent expedition after expedition to the Holy Land, and her brave people never feared the Saracen hordes; In the twelfth century the Pisans conquered Amalfi, and he* decline began. It was hastened by earthquakes and by the subsidence of the coast, which was so remarkable - that during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries the harbors and wharves were lost in the sea and no trace was left of the busy quays that

were once laden with the merchandise of the \ -East.' : - : - ' /: In spite of its decay, Amalli has one glory j to-day. One side of the piazza is occupied by, \- the cathedral, half Saracenic and half Romanesque, and most picturesque, with its tall tower and its Gothic portico, supported by j columns brought from the Green ruins at j Paestum. You go into the church through i huge bronze doors, cast, like those at Monte Oassino, by Staurachios, at Constantinople, "~ vhout the year 1066. The gates, which were the gift of a noble AmaJfi family, are wonderful. They are divided into panels, upon which Scriptural subjects are represented in outline by means of incised lines filled in with metallic compositions in red, black, and green. The ceiling glows with the warm color of paintings by Aniello Falcone, who was the master of Salvator Rosa. In the crypt is the body of St. Andrew Apostle, and over the altar is a magnificent bronze statue of the saint, by Michelangelo Naccarino. St. Andrew is AmalI fi's patron saint, but it is interesting to know that St. Macarius was its ancient protector. And so, even here on this wild coast, one ; comes on the footsteps of those old Irish ;-- monks who civilised even Italy. The one < country they seem to have failed to civilise \. and rescue from barbarism was their Saxon \ neighbor, which in turn failed to conquer i and destroy Ireland. I A few miles back in the hills you will find | at Ravello an even more splendid church. It • stands'on a hilltop, and was founded in the i eleventh century by one Niccolo Rufolo, Duke • of Dora and Grand Admiral to Roger of Sicily. I It has glorious doors and ambones in which I are preserved the remains of the Byzantine I arj/of the past. Thus, all northern Europe has to come to such little Italian towns to learn painting and architecture really mean; | and no doubt when the average British or ] American tourist has come and gone he will j still remain ignorant enough to think himself j superior to the Italians, the rudest of whom is ■

nursed in a cradle surrounded by masterpieces of art and music. Beyond Maiori the coast becomes wilder, until you reach Vietri. Farther south lies Salerno, shining in the distance,, and if you go there (as I did not) you can salute the remains of Hildebrand, Pope Gregory VII, the son of a poor carpenter, the man who was an ornament to the papacy whose lustre the ages have never dimmed. He it was, as you all know, who brought to Canossa the haughty tyrant of Germany, Henry IV. His ideal.-: were lofty and his courage and zeal boundless; and hero he sleeps now, awaiting his resurrection, by the blue seas that wash this wonderful coast. And at last it was time to leave this wonderland and to hurry back to Sorrento. And so, oncq more along the curves of the marvellous road, we went in the light of the sunset which made every town and every castle and every crag more remarkable than when we saw them for the first time in the morning. What a road it was! Dean Alford says: "Not in variety of interest, but .in grandeur, in picturesque grouping, in outline, find above all in loveliness of coloring, this Amalfi Riviera far surpasses any part of that from Nice to Genoa. Nothing in picture or imagination can surpass the color of the sea: it is not blue, it is not purple, it is not green, but it is all these by turns, nay, all these together reflexion of the amethyst .in the surface of the turquoise." No, there is nothing to surpass it. When you go to Italy do not forget 5 that you must find a free day'for it, no matter what- else you miss. Leaving it at the, last turn of the road I felt a real pang of regret that in all probability I should never see it again. That is the worst thing about Italy—leaving it behind. V But who knows ? Chi sal