In the jungle

Incessant birdcries but no other sound. Lush green and dabs of brilliant colour and wafting in from across the valley, the silent mist, curling around the uncurling fern fronds, bearing a brightness, a silvery-white softness that smoothes every shape into nothing.

Here, human age loses significance. The rocks, the mountains and the sea take over. The huge ancient trees observe the petty movements of our struggling forms: tiny legs forcing themselves up steep slopes or slipping in muddy cracks, bodies strained. 

Here comes the rain, beating onto the roof; and we are glad to be sheltered. Surprisingly, it is not warm. Again glad we brought our fleeces and thick socks.

No internet, no wifi, no phones or television. Wonderfully abandoned! There is electricity and running water. And time. And quiet.

Thinking back over 2016. For David and me it was a very good year. We kept the boat in Cartagena and left there in May. Wonderful south Spain, with visits to Seville, Cordoba and Granada. Unforgettable, places burning with history and still alive and thrumming (flamenco on the streets, choral music in the cathedrals, paintings from the 15th, 16th or 17th century that I had seen reproductions of, but now the originals; Moorish architecture so detailed and full of grace, intricate designs on tiles and pottery, colours deep and strong like the countryside). So much to rejoice the spirit.

Summer brought sad notes: the vote in the UK for Brexit with all the ensuing grief, anger and incomprehension: then the regret and confusion. Later in the year the US vote which still fills us with incredulity and dismay. Prefer not to dwell on this now.

We sailed from Cadiz on the southern tip of Spain westwards along the coast to Lagos in the Portuguese Algarve. A delightful couple of weeks, starting in Jerez de la Frontera, where we were joined by Hezi and Tilla, and Samir and Souaad. The double S’s (!) left us for their destinations in France and Algeria (we plan a meeting in Amsterdam early 2017) and the four of us sailed on, spending a couple of days at anchor in the river Guadiana that forms the border running north-south between Spain and Portugal. 

So we enter another country, encounter another language and a variation on southern Spanish culture. David is busily reading the history of the Portuguese seaborne empire as it developed in the 1500s. So when we reached Lisbon we knew about Albuquerque and duly paused in front of his statue (similar to Nelson’s column in London’s Trafalgar Square). 

Once settled into the marina in Lagos we spent some time exploring the Alentejo region and walking in the Algarve. Wonderful spaces. We could ramble along the coastal tracks with no barbed wire exclusions, climb down precipitous steps to the sandy beach below, cool our feet in the foaming sea, and then refresh ourselves with a glass of Mateus rose (sorry can’t find the accent!). We cook for ourselves on the boat and also found a wonderful small restaurant where we go sometimes after a Portuguese lesson. Wendie signed up for ten lessons (individual) which David joined. Very useful, we learned a lot. Bought a study book plus CD and when we return to Lagos in 2017 Wendie is going to take a further course that should provide more foundation and familiarity with the sshh and tchs and ‘drop all vowels and final consonants where possible’, that characterises spoken Portuguese. Bom = good, pronounced ‘bo’.

Wendie enjoyed one of her annual delights and went to Torino for the November Film Festival, staying with Komal in her charming attic apartment. Met many dear friends from the Villa Gualino days and of course filled the mind with films, most of then made in 2016. David came for the first few days (flying down from the UK where he had attended the funeral of his cousin Ann Guiver). He conferred with Guy and Marco upon things Economic, while Komal and I discussed food, that most wonderful of topics, not only for Italians…

We celebrated David’s 77th birthday in a charming restaurant that Komal found for us, with Roberto Palermo and Marco and Barbara, all dear friends from the years when we lived in Torino (2006 to 2010).

Also had supper with Rossella and the girls: marvelling on the fact that when Agnese was born, November 2006, we had just arrived in their house. Now the girls are 10 and 12 (I hope I’ve got that right!). By chance I also ran into them outside with Giovanni, their father, on the corner near Massimo’s cinema. I have so many memories of them, living with one wall between us, as it were, for four years. Almost part of the family. I learnt a lot about northern Italians living there. So different from the south.

David and I also went for a splendid supper with Patricia Momigliano, mother of our dear friend Matteo Richiardi, and her present husband, Roberto. On the walls hang etchings by De Gheyn, and paintings by Italian masters, and a huge etching of Roma, where Roberto has his family house. There is an atmosphere of unpretentious civilisation and culture. A very fine evening. Patricia drove us home to via Botero, Komal’s apartment.

After David left Torino there were some days of pelting rain. Difficult trying to keep semi-dry while rushing to the various cinemas… But didn’t matter, the films were superb. Jules et Jim, which I’d never seen, and Z which I first saw in 1970… (I notice that my French has improved since those days) and many excellent  documentaries made in 2016. Didn’t see so many Italian films this time. Managed to meet Stefania and Teresa and Sergio and little Emma, which was delightful. Made supper for Teresa and we talked about writing. Her poems are very strong. Such a pleasure to have met these people. Too little time to keep up with them adequately.

The above pic was taken I think by Walter and Roberta, showing David and me somewhere long the east coast of Italy, I think sometime in 2014… David has not changed and it’s mainly my hair  that’s different now.

And below shows Caterina and Agnese, our Torino girls, taken in 2014.

The pic of me below is still a mystery to me so I am going to manage to locate it: must be slightly chilly and dampish… but so far I can’t remember. After much searching I found it: on the Italian coast somewhere…

But underneath lie a whole stack of pics that I’d like to get rid of in this text. So maybe I’ll begin a new doc. 

END part I In the jungle and thoughts about 2016.