The stones of Matera

Our friend Rosemary came to visit last week so I've been doing the tourist rounds, finishing yesterday with a trip to Matera, the ancient town in Basilicata often used as a set for biblical epics because of its resemblance to old Jerusalem we are told.  It is quite a sight, a vast collection of medieval stone houses carved into a bowl of rock and criss-crossed with alleys and stairs.  It does look like my idea of the Holy Land, especially in August, as the surrounding country is empty, dry and dusty, the houses are made of sandstone and the Sun is pitylessly hot.


Actually I was reluctant to go, I think because the last time I visited, several years back, I was feeling very depressed and so the place is associated for me with bad thoughts.  In the end I was glad we went, it is very beautiful, Rosemary loved it and I amused myself taking pictures of old doors.

I waved Rosemary goodbye at Bari Airport earlier today, so now I'm back on my own in our little corner of paradise.  She and I were married for a long time and separated twenty five years ago.  I'm pleased we are good friends now, comfortable in the knowledge that our marriage was doomed from the start and ended about as well as it could have.

But as well as good companionship there is a sadness involved in spending time with her, I guess because our marriage began with optimism and ended with dashed hopes and disillusion and now we are old.  Unlike my black thoughts tramping round Matera a few years ago I think this can be called "ordinary sadness" and not "neurotic despair" as the therapists might say.

Yes Matera is definitely a better place now.