(April
6) - The
Davis Cup matches are still going on today in
Naples between Italy and Great Britain (or as
Mussolini said, "Perfidious Albion"). They started
on Friday, a dark and stormy afternoon if ever there
was one, but the weather has changed for the better.
They built a splendid tennis court down at the
seaside along via Caracciolo, and I have run into
British tourists who have come all this way to see
the matches. I don't know who is winning/has already
won/will win, but according to the local papers,
Italy is doing very well and has a few episodes of
robust tennis hooliganism to support that. I haven't
checked the British papers; their mileage may
differ. I don't know too much about tennis except
that they use a ball larger than the one used in
ping-pong. (Those of you accustomed to reading
scripts that run right to left may choose to think
of it as pong-ping.) Also, points are
awarded to players who grunt a lot. (If you listen
to only the sound-track of a tennis match, it's like
eavesdropping on a Klingon honeymoon.) The Davis Cup
is named for Dwight Filley Davis (1879-1945, image,
above!) a Harvard lawn-tennis player who
endowed his fortune to a sport (in his words) "that
will have a more complicated scoring system than
Aztec hand-ball." Imagine, you win the first two
points of a tennis match and you are suddenly ahead
30-love (very hip players are encouraged to write "luv!")
A typical tennis line score runs 6-1, 6-4, 312-310,
d4 Nf6-E=MC2. Oh, recall that the
half-time shows at Aztec hand-ball matches consisted
of decapitating those players found not to have
grunted enough in the first half.
(April 9) - Forget crocuses
on the wing and robins coming back to Cappuccino --
the goats have finally shown up on Capri,
which means it's spring. They generally hang out on
the rocks on the Anacapri side of the
island, beneath Monte Solaro or above the sea near
the string of forts along
the western end of the island. They love to lick the
salt sprayed up onto the rocks. Some sources may say
that the animals are "wild" and indigenous to the
island. That is not quite accurate. These animals
are not Capra aegagrus, the true wild goat;
they are the domesticated goat subspecies, Capra
aegagrus hircus, serving as the source of our
parchment and wine jugs (whichever came first, as if
you didn't know!) for 10,000 years. So to say that
they are "wild goats" is misleading if you mean they
are part of the indigenous fauna in the same sense
as the various bird or lizard species. The goats
have been husbanded on Capri for a very long time
(and, believe me, that has midwifed a lot of
terrible puns). The goats that seem wild, like the
rotten kids hanging out on the rocks (photo) are
feral animals, great-grandkids of those who just
walked off the reservation some years ago. (Goats
are like cats in that respect; they revert to the
wild very rapidly. My source in Anacapri, a good
kid, says, "They all belong to somebody, or at least
used to.") At one time, centuries ago, the raising
of goats on Capri was in the hands of those old-goat
Carthusian monks (the monastery may still be
visited) who produced valued cheeses from the milk.
The island, itself, may have been named 'Capri' in
honor of the goats -- caprae in Latin
(alternatives: from the ancient Greek, kapros-'wild
boar, or from the Etruscan word for 'rocky.'
They are generally viewed as benevolent little
creatures because besides providing milk, cheese
and, alas and sniff, even meat, they munch away the
undergrowth that is fuel for brush fires. (That is
called "conservation grazing," although the goats
just call it "food.") There is actually a painting
called Herding goats, Capri, by Teodoro
Duclere (1816-1867) that Christie's sold for
£20,000. (Rip-off. You can barely see the goats).
(May
6) - Today is the
anniversary of the Hindenburg airship
disaster. On May 6, 1937, the German
passenger airship LZ 129, Hindenburg,
caught fire and was destroyed during an
attempt to dock with its mooring mast at the
Naval Air Station in Lakehurst, New Jersey.
Of the 97 people on board (36 passengers and
61 crewmen), there were 35 fatalities.
Remarkably, in spite of the spectacularly
lethal-looking explosion seen in newsreels
and photography of the day (photo, right),
more than half of the crew and passengers
survived the crash. The Hindenburg,
the largest craft ever to fly (245
meters/800 feet long), was held aloft by
hydrogen, notoriously flammable; whatever
the cause -- static electricity, sabotage,
etc., -- when a spark hit the hydrogen, the
ship exploded. Airship enthusiasts may wish
to remember that the most lethal crash of an
airship was the USS Akron (ZRS-4),
filled with non-flammable helium(!).
It went down in a thunderstorm off the coast
of New Jersey on the morning of 4 April
1933, killing 73 of her 76 crewmen and
passengers. This accident was the largest
loss of life for any airship crash.
Hindenburg-type craft were "rigid" airships;
that is, the shape conformed to a rigid
internal air-frame, as opposed to simply
the shape of a filled airbag (like a
balloon). They were commonly called
Zeppelin after the German designer of
the first models. In any event, the
Hindenburg disaster ended the "age of
airships," behemoths of the air that
transported you in leisurely fashion on
trans-Atlantic cruises (about 3 days,
east-to-west). That age had started in 1900
and, in earnest, in WWI. There is a strange,
almost unknown episode that connects these
gigantic aircraft to the city of Naples.
(You may read about that at this link.)
(Also, a related item here.)
If you've never been here, it doesn't look like this yet.
This item is also included on the
Consolidated Bagnoli
page.
(June 6) This
delightful little building is the Church
of the Incoronata on via Medina near
Piazza Municipio and the city hall. (You may
read a brief history here.) The "sunken"
appearance is due to the fact that the building
is now well below the modern street level. The Incoronata
was built in the 1300s and a century or so later
they started raising the roads in that part of
town. As you may read at that link, the church
has had somewhat of a checkered history, at one
point disappearing entirely beneath overlaid
masonry of newer construction. Some years ago
they decided to dig it out and restore it. One
such episode of restoration led to use of the
building as a small exhibit hall about seven or
eight years ago, such as the one described here. It was
closed again a number of months ago for further
restoration; it has now been reopened and may be
visited. It comes as a pleasant surprise at the
beginning of the summer that this site is open
again. It is right across the street from other
ongoing work, the dismantling of the Neptune Fountain,
one of the most famous of the "traveling
waterworks" of Naples. Neptune is in the process
of being moved just a few yards away, very close
to where it was when it built. All of this in
preparation for the opening of the new Piazza Municipio
metropolitana station.
(June 13) Dracula
update! My one-woman research team, Selene
Salvi (she is to information as Godzilla was to
Tokyo) reports back with devastating news for my
gullible little heart; to wit, the item from
June 11 (two up from this entry) is baloney,
dingo's kidneys, a load of cobblers, bilge, a
crock. But there is hope! Yes, Dracula's
Daughter! (And I don't mean the 1936 Universal
Studios horror film (film poster, right). As far
as I know, that was fiction. I'm talking about
the real deal! (Selene calls my attention to a
small volume, Il lupo e la cometa. Breve
inquisizione su Maria Balsa (The Wolf
and the Comet, a Brief Inquiry into Maria
Balsa, by Mario Ciola, ed. Telemaco,
Acerenza, 2012), and then by extension, to other
and much older works and then to the mysterious
cathedral of Acerenza (near Potenza in the
Basilicata region of Italy), in which crypts are
adorned with all manner of medieval demons,
devils, and dragons! One such crypt
(from 1524) contains the remains of the lord of
Acerenza, Giacomo Alfonso Ferillo and his bride,
Maria Balsa. Based on a 1666 (hmmm—suspicious
number!) book entitled Of the Dragona Family
speculation arose that Maria Balsa was from the
Balkans and, indeed, none other than a princess
and, even worse, the daughter of Vlad III, the
Impaler—Dracula! Long story short, that, too,
has been debunked for a variety of reasons, not
the least of which is that a Balkan princess
whose father (Vlad) had been excommunicated(!)
could hardly have traveled to Italy and been
welcomed into a good Roman Catholic noble
family. There are also a great number of
genealogical inconsistencies, all grist for the
mill of the author of The Wolf and the Comet.
The book was promoted by the town of Acerenza.
Apparently the good Aceruntini (yes, that's what
they're called) got tired of people dropping by
just to find the tomb of Dracula's Daughter.
Some people just have nothing better to do than
look for tombs with dragons on them, which
probably means only that the encrypted was a
member of the Societas Draconistarum,
the Order of the Dragon, a chivalric order
founded in 1408. (Something like the Knights Templar. Tough
customers, they say. Think nasty Masons.)
(June 17) The Bay of Naples
is not exactly "tornado alley," but every few
years we get a twister that would just be a
fierce water spout if it stayed at sea.
Yesterday, one moved inland and caused severe
damage but, fortunately, no loss of life. I
actually saw this thing forming, a funnel
trailing down out of a great cloud mass over the
eastern part of the bay about halfway between
Naples and Vesuvius. By the time I had run home
to get a camera, it had moved inland and then
west towards the city, where it brought massive
flooding, heavy hail, uprooted trees, and downed
traffic signals and tram power lines. It struck
hard up on the Vomero hill above where I live.
It had touched down first at Portici,
site of the former Bourbon Palace, currently the
Agriculture department of the University of
Naples and devastated (some sources say
"destroyed") one of the most important botanical
gardens in Italy. The garden opened in 1872 and
even survived the ravages of WWII as Allied and
Axis armies moved right through the area. The
Botanical Garden built up an important
repository over the years of botanical species
from all over the word. The director says the
losses are incalculable. Heavily wooded parks at
the higher elevations of the city, such as the Floridiana and the Capodimonte
Wood have been closed until further notice
while the damage is assessed.Since 1998 we have promoted environmental education and activities for children. They play with nature and science in true hands-on surroundings, experimenting with their sense of creativity, getting valuable experience and learning how to cooperate with one another.
(June 25) OK, I'm
impressed. Yacht-watching season swings into
high gear. That thing in the middle is the Eos (the
Greek Goddess of dawn and large boats). Eos is
a three-masted Bermuda-rigged schooner. She is one
of the largest private sailing yachts in the world,
and some say the largest if you count the bowsprit.
Built by the Lürssen yard in Bremen, Germany, the
ship was launched in 2006. As of 2009 the Eos is
the property of movie and media billionaire Barry
Diller, husband of fashion designer Diane von
Fürstenberg. Overall length (of the ship, not Diane
von Fürstenberg) measures approximately 305 feet
(92.92m). Naval architecture by Langan Design;
Interior design: François Catroux. If you are in the
mood to quibble over bowsprits (and who isn't?),
other contenders for longest private tubs are here. Other
stats: beam (i.e. the ship's breadth at its widest
point) 44.29 ft (13.50 m); Propulsion: Twin screw
with 2 × 2,333 hp (1,740 kW) MTU diesel engines
(HEY! They have sails AND engines?! and I'm not
counting the 56 galley slaves --ok, I made that one
up!); Speed: 16 knots (30 km/h) maximum; Complement:
16 guests, approx. 21 crew. Aluminum hull and
superstructure. Barry and Dianne were here overnight
and left early this morning. A shame. I wanted to
swim out for a pizza. (Oops, they came back a few
days later and docked at Mergellina. Here's a better
view--)
And more
important stats: