I've just re-read last year's cheery newsletter, and was interested to see how my gloomy predictions for 2017 compared with the way things actually turned out. As is customary for soothsayers with cloudy balls, some things went better than I'd foreseen, others worse.
To begin with the upside: neither Fillon nor Marie Le Pen won the French election. Although I'm not an admirer of his economic policies, I am heartened by Macron's commitment to greater European political unity. Admittedly his refusal to accept France's due quota of refugees raises some questions about his willingness to subordinate perceived national interests to the greater European good; however, it was very refreshing to hear a charismatic leader clearly identify the steps necessary to provide a secure future for Europe's citizens. Are you listening, Jeremy? More good news came from Holland with Wilders' defeat. And that's about it.
The AfD's support grew at the German elections and that of the two mainstream parties declined. At the time of posting, the attempt to form a "Jamaican coalition" having failed, Germany is still lacking a stable government. The only glimmer of hope is the rumour that Schulz may make a firm commitment by Merkel to greater European integration a necessary condition for the SPD's participation in a coalition government. Brexit staggers on and, despite Juncker offering to allow the UK to rescind clause 50, Sergio Romano's view that an EU without the English offers a real opportunity to move the European project forward is widely shared in continental Europe.
Last year I lamented the fact that our income had fallen by 13% owing to the fall in value of sterling thanks to Brexit. Now, because of the British negotiators' comical incompetence, and the consequent declining confidence in the pound, it's down by 20%.
To turn from misery caused by human folly to that bestowed by indifferent Nature: heavy snow falling continuously from January 15th to the 19th resulted in the deepest snow we have ever experienced. In our courtyard it almost reached the first floor windows of out neighbour Polonio's house, a drift around three metres deep:
The snow was too deep in the centro storico for the village snowplough to cope so all the residents had to dig a trench along the street:
Our car transformed itself into an igloo:
On the 22nd the Civil Defence arrived with heavy snowploughs and cleared the main roads whilst armies of young volunteers dug out the cars and cleared the snow from the centro storico by hand.
The snow was accompanied by a power cut which lasted for eighteen and a half hours, and 144 shocks above 2.0 on the Richter scale in one day, four of which were over 5 in the space of an hour causing the house to shake once again. We also had a day without running water: not a major problem as one only needed to go into the courtyard to scoop up a bucket of snow! Finally, a tornado blew the church clock from the tower.
Fortunately our friends Tony and Shona, who had come over to help us celebrate Pat's se***tieth birthday on the 30th December, left for England on the 5th of January the day the preceding snow fall arrived and so escaped being trapped. The birthday itself was very enjoyable. Together with Sophy and Adam, Candy and Quinn, Pat's sister, Deborah, and friends Tony and Shona and John and Jean we had an excellent meal at the Villa Funari in Servigliano:
As well as monthly get-to-gethers with local ex-pats in the village restaurant our lives have been brightened by vists from friends. My former colleague, Chris Bell stayed with us in May. We had an abortive trip together to Osimo to see an art exhibition: I'd managed to pick the gallery's closing day!
Our trip to Urbino three days later was more successful.
In October my old schoolfellow, Stephen Burrough and his charming French partner, Maryvonne., came to stay. I last saw Steve in 1961 when we studied A Level English together and were joint editors of the school magazine. Their visit coincided with the annual chestnut festival at a neighbouring village, Smerillo. I'd heard that one of its attractions, the Fesso - a dramatic cleft in a rock face dating back several million years - had been closed to the public since last year's earthquakes. However, I took Maryvonne down to see it on the off-chance it might be open. It was:
As we returned, making our way past the throng of people walking down the cliff towards the cleft, I noticed a placard lying on its side just before the footpath reached the Fesso. It read, 'By order of the mayor, it is strictly forbidden to proceed beyond this point.'
Their visit was immediately followed by one from our old friends Phil and Maggie who used to live in Smerillo before moving first to the Dordogne and then Nottinghamshire, before finally settling in Spain. Finally, Jane Fineren stayed with us for a few days in late November. Her holiday home had been declared unsafe after the earthquake and she came over to discuss its renovation with her architect and the local council.
I went over to the UK at the beginning of August to bring our grandson, Quinn, back for a holiday. His mother, Candy, joined us for the final week of the month accompanied by a friend, David. Contrary to our hopes - and James Duffy's maxim in Dubliners - their friendship is purely platonic. We had an excellent time including several trips to the seaside:
and events in the village:
But for Quinn the undoubted highlights were a trip to the tree-top walk at Ripatransone - he produced this film from the footage I shot -
and a visit to MotorPark at Campofilone where he and David went kart racing:
In July, Sophy very generously paid for our holiday in Matera to celebrate our Ruby Wedding. The trip was made possible by Tony and Shona very kindly offering to look after our dogs while we were in Basilicata. Matera will be European City of Culture in 2019 and deservedly so. We stayed in the district known as the Sassi which consists of gentrified cave-dwellings. In 1952, horrified by the inhabitants' living conditions - he declared the whole country should be ashamed - the then prime minister, De Gasperi, took steps to move them from their squalid homes into newly built council flats. Today, the caves have been rehabilitated and, furnished with mains drainage, running water and electricity have become extremely desirable residences. They give Matera a unique character. Le Marche, where we live, is full of beautiful towns and villages but they are all fairly similar to one another. To visit Matera is to experience something utterly different; paradoxically, the same effect that Dubai had on us on when we first visited the city.
A few weeks ago the clock was replaced in the San Pietro's church tower and its half hourly chimes ring out across the village once again. Repair work has begun on San Michele, the parish church damaged in last year's earthquake; Westminster has belatedly begun to exercise its sovereignty regarding Brexit's terms; and Sophy and Adam are spending Christmas with us this year. At last I begin to feel some glimmers of the hope traditionally associated with the season of goodwill. I hope you do too!
