Thursday Dec 14. Wandering. To Ravenna.

Boarded the train at 8.20 this morning and got off at Faenza to transfer trains at 4.30 pm. After another transfer, arrived in Ravenna at 6.15 pm. The length of this day’s travel reminded me that Italy isn’t all that small, even though it is 3.5 times smaller than our province of Ontario.

The first part of the day repeated the Lecce to Bari journey I had just completed much much more slowly on foot. The same olive trees, stone fences, and flat landscape I’m now so familiar with!

Then for a long time the train tracks ran along the Aegean coast. There didn’t seem to be much protection from the waves, so it can’t be an area very prone to violent sea storms. I gather the water level is rising with global warming, but slowly. Still, it did seem to me that the train tracks and buildings right on the coast might be vulnerable.

I wonder too at how different my perception of the Mediterranean must be from that of people on the other side of the sea looking at it and wondering if they could survive a crossing. There is no sign anywhere I have been of a flood of refugees. They are “contained” and out of sight. About half the farm labourers I have seen look like they are from more southern countries and might be temporary workers. I have occasionally noticed Africans who are obviously destitute and living on the streets, but many many more who are students or working people adjusted to Italian life.

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September 5

I landed at Heathrow this morning at 6 am, a very inconvenient time to get a room and rest! But my student residence accommodation includes a common room with handy couches for a short snooze. The neighbourhood abuts on Regent’s Park, complete with gorgeous flowerbeds. The Queen Mary’s rose garden in Regent’s Park. My neighbourhood wandering took me to the Wallace House which used to be one of the homes of the marquesses of Hertford. The Hertfords were fabulously rich, mainly from extensive land holdings, and in the 18th and 19th centuries avid art collectors. They obviously had Trumpian home decorating tastes. Here are two of their many clocks, all of which need frequent ‘fine tuning’, it appears. I particularly liked two 18th c British paintings by Sir Joshua Reynolds in their collection: Mrs Carnac and the hauntingly strange Strawberry Girl.

Sat Oct 4. London.

19 days walking on pilgrimage paths for a total of 395 km or 245 miles on foot (not that arduous - an average of 20.7 km per day, and lots of ‘rest days’ staying put in one place). All of that undone in 1.5 hours on a Eurostar train. I’m not entirely sure what conclusion I’m drawing from that comparison, but I’m back where I started, in London. On my way to my lodgings (I’m staying in a Buddhist retreat centre) I decided to visit the first visitable place to cross my path, which turned out to be the Foundling Museum. Horrified by the sight of infants being abandoned on 18th c London streets, a prosperous seaman, Thomas Coram, spent 17 years raising awareness and funds, as well as obtaining royal permission to build London’s first children’s charity. Opened in 1739, the Foundling Hospital continued its work until the 1950s, and actually is still active as a non-institutional resource, under a different name. Here is a photo of it in 1935. So many similarities to ...

Saturday September 6

I have given myself today and tomorrow in London before starting the walk. A good thing because I’m having technical difficulties getting on to the AirB&B site that I need to access for my Monday night accommodation… Today I had a lovely walk to Canary Wharf along quiet streets bordering the Thames. The tide was high and the water a bit agitated, but the sun was warm and the strollers happy. Over 25,000 bombs fell on this area of London in WWII as the Germans fully recognised the importance of maritime trade to British resilience. Some warehouses have survived (or been rebuilt) and the extensive blocks of post-war flats are very attractive (and very very expensive.) I had a pleasant break in a sixteenth century pub, the ‘Prospect of Whitby’, where Charles Dickens would come to listen to dock folk - original flagstone floors and a pewter counter on the bar. From the waterfront balcony patrons in earlier days could watch as pirates and smugglers were hung from a gibb...

Celia Walks

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