Mal d'Afrique

 My Christmas guests have left.

It is a clear, cold Sunday in Siena, and I am sitting by my Christmas tree listening to Songhoy Blues.

 A feeling of loss is invading me. There are many reasons for this just now, but a significant one is  the   pictures I have received from Djenne which shows the utter destruction of what was once Hotel Djenne Djenno.

 The severe floods this autumn have demolished the mud walls and only ruins remain. The picture above shows the the remains of the Diawando room, which used to stand inside the Great Gate with the two Baobab trees we planted. These are still visible here, one male and one female- I believe the one that looks quite dead is the female, which always shed its leaves only to come back in force later on. 

The Great Gate which stood by the baobabs had fallen long previously. The hotel was handed over on the 1st of July 2017, and I never went back inside its perimetre again, so I don't quite know why these pictures are so hard for me to see.  

This is what remains of the Peul Suite...

I did however go back to Djenne many times, and stayed in my  own house on my land, I even worked in the bogolan studio before I sold it all. This picture shows how my house- to the right-  is collapsing and it is now gone, returned to mud,  says Baba, who used to be my manager at Hotel Djenne Djenno.

I will never have to see this destruction.  

I cannot go back to Djenne. 

I had planned to return in February to be present for  the 15th edition of the cataract operations at the Djenne hospital sponsored by my cousin Pelle and his wife Nanni. I also needed to see the library and its staff who are still working, in a much reduced capacity, with the digitization of manuscripts. I wanted to pick up their work on a hard drive and bring it with me back to Europe. The plan was that I should travel up that road from Bamako again that I have travelled a thousand times - this time in the company of Dr. Faira Keita and his team on their way up to start their cataract operations. 

I received the reply last night- I cannot go with them.  The Department of Health, ultimately in charge of this, has refused to let me travel because of the heightened security risk of carrying a 'toubab' (white person) with them on their journey northwards. 

I cannot use the local bus, which I did many times before- because the check posts will not let me pass... The only possibility would be a privately hired car with a military escort, prohibitively expensive.

And Bamako? Karen will have left to live in Senegal. There is hardly anyone remaining- the Sleeping Camel, that lively watering hole for most of the English speaking sections of Bamako expats, is now largely deserted, there having been a mass exodus of UN staff, NGO workers, and diplomats from Mali. 

That is not the entire reason for  the Minor Key that I feel  is surrounding me. The sale of my flat in London, which I thought was well on the way to be completed by Christmas, has run into serious difficulties because of some technical details and it looks as if it will fall through. 

I spent nearly two weeks there in December, hobbling around with my broken knee, packing everything up. Who knows what will happen now.. 

Nevertheless, it was a lovely Christmas here  with dear friends Jeremiah, David and Sanjay... but their exit reinforces this unaccustomed  feeling of loss...

Kama Sutra +

 Here we have, just for David (who  asked for it in the previous comments)  the front page of the Nazione, where, on the left hand side, the Misericordia of San Gimignano is lauded for their excellent  and swift  arrival and ability to bring the drama of my previous post to a happy conclusion, taking me to the Poggibonsi  A&E:

                                                         

 And here is, for everyone's delectation, a Close -Up of my Kama Sutra Pyamas:

                                                                                                   Looks exhausting.....

A Tuscan mishap..

                                                     

Yes, well, it was a cool,  blue-skied,  shining,  autumnal Sunday, and we - the trekking group I belong to - had congregated in a gorgeous green field from which we could see the towers of San Gimignano silhuetted against the sky. We happily set out on our 13k trek.

It didn't last all that long for me however... a skip across a little forest stream- arriving safely on the other side; then at the next, easy, step up the forest path my foot was entangled in a layer of  trecherous fine  roots; I went flying forward and smashed my left knee against a rock...

                                                                                 

It quickly became evident that I would not be able to carry on, I would have to be lifted out of there! Emergency services were called, with some difficulty because we had strayed out of  easy coverage. 

I eventually found myself strapped to a stretcher and was carried to the waiting ambulance which stood about 800 m. from the accident spot. 4 Heroic volunteers from the San Giminano MISERICORDIA, the  Italian  social/health services as well as 4 fellow walkers took on the task of carting me up the steep hill ascent.   The event got front page position in the local paper La Nazione in the morning.                                                      

I spent 5 nights in Poggibonsi hospital where they operated on my broken knee cap. 

                                                                                 

Back home again last Friday night, this time transported by another Misericorda team, who were laughing at my pyamas which they had time to notice because the journey took a while and eyes had time to stray...  My Karma Sutra pyamas was given me once a long time ago by Giulietta, when I was about to go in to hospital for some other reason...It never fails to amuse me that people don't notice what the pattern is.                                                  

Back home there was dear Patty who had come down from Bologna to help me for a few days. Soon arrived three, four other friends from the walking group and  a couple of  theatre friends- it became quite a jolly  party!

And today Patty left, and I am starting to look after myself- but I  and my crutches are
already able to go and have a cup of coffee and a croissant at the bar St. Pietro!

                                                                                   

Talamone, Venice, Carloforte...

 

A lot of travelling has taken place in the last couple of weeks, because I have found myself able to get away- my guests have been staying for a few days, or even weeks, therefore I have not had to greet new guests every day and make sure everything is running properly, but have left my guests to look after themselves. 

The first outing was to a little town called Talamone on the southern Tuscan coast, which |I wanted to visit, because according to the people at ONDA, this town is an honorary outpost of the Onda Contrada: When we won the Palio in July there was an Onda flag flying from the ancient ramparts of the fortress above. 

There is some truth in this story: at the height of the Siena Republic a large part of the Tuscan coast was controlled by Siena, and Talamone was the main port. The military company of the Onda Contrada was dispatched to fortify the town, and this is why we are called the ONDA, the Wave, and we have a Dolphin/Sea Monster on our flag and the motto:

Il colore del Cielo, La Forza del Mare:

The Colour of the Sky and the Strength of the Sea.

However... I was a little disappointed with the Talamonians enthusiasm about Siena and their supposed Onda membership... Instead I found out, from speaking to the owner of the main restaurant i town that  they counted themselves  tightly bound with Grosseto, the largest town in the Maremma, and had no particular feelings about Siena at all... and they were not aware of any Onda flag on the ramparts...

Well, nevermind. I had a lovely autumn swim in the still warm waters in the lovely rock bay below the castle. 

A few days later saw me arriving in Venice to meet my frienda Patty and Les:

 

We visited the Biennale where we were  impressed by the French Pavilion and its artist Julien Creuzet: 

And the American Pavilion was good fun with its onslaught of colours and patterns by the Native American artist Geoffrey Gibson. 

The pretentious blurb introducing the artist made us giggle and inspired us for the remainder of our visit in Venice to make up a whole new vocabulary along the same lines as the below: 

The artist apparently 'confronts the chromophobia of contemporary art with his use of pattern and abstract geometries'. Is anyone aware of any Chromophobia in contemporary art??

                                                     

           And the last in my Trilogy of Autumn journeys took me to Carloforte, the lovely little island off the southern Coast of Sardinia:                                                                            

     

where I met up with my friends Eva and Leonardo again, and helped harvest the olives from their 100 olive trees: a bountiful harvest this year!

                                                    

ONDEPENDENCE DAY

It has been a long time... I have been very busy, mainly in fun and frivolity. To win the Palio unleashes  several months of festivities, culminating in a week long crescendo, which we are living just now, in the ONDA territory. Last Saturday we had what is called the Festa nel Rione which is always a huge fancy dress affair, involving the whole neighbourhood which is sectioned off into various groups with various tasks and themes. 

Since we on the Palio on the 4rth of July, it became a Huge American Party- I was part of the 50's themed Drive In and American Diner section- here below my fellow girls:

I had spent a week or so turning my bedroom floor into a painting studio, making the Drive-In banner 

which was strung across the Via del Sambuco.

I also made the poster for the film showing in the Drive- In that night- it was of course the winning race projected on the wall of the building- and here I am with the fantino (the jockey) who was part of another group- the Avenger Superheroes...

      The streets of the Onda were thronging with about 800 people, mostly part of the Contrada and dressed in their various themed costumes:  there was the Prohibition section down one narrow dimly lit alley way where flappers were dancing with gangsters to the tune of a jazz band playing 20s and 30s music; there was the Hell's Angel Section, with three Harley Davidsons making their entrance down the Via Giovanni Dupre at the opening of the party; there was the   section where George Washington and his group were signing the Declaration of Ondependence dressed in eighteenth  century costumes and wigs: there were Hippies and there were Punks, which I thought was maybe pushing the theme a little in the wrong direction, since Punks were actiually a London thing, really...but nevermind..

There was the 70s Disco section, and the American High school section and ...and... and...

for a taste of it: 

https://www.facebook.com/reel/847924827513927

I have always complained that noone really does proper parties (apart from Cressida Bell) and if I want to have a party I have to organize it myself... and I have done, although it was a very long time ago now, in fact it was the French Revolution Party that I did in my flat in Paris in 1989...

Well, I have now ended up, obviously, where I am supposed to be. I take my hat off unconditionally- it was absolutely the best party I have ever been to. There were two girls from Brazil staying in my Airbnb, they live in Rio de Janeiro and they said they had more fun than at the Rio Carnival...                     

                               Below  my friend Carmen and I at the entrance to Via Giovanni Dupre, before it all started...    

                                           

And on Saturday there is the Victory Banquet on the Piazza del Mercato with around 800 people, and THE HORSE TABACCO in the place of honour....!

Perhaps thankfully this sort of seemingly inexhaustible merry making only happens when a Contrada wins the Palio, and some have not won for more than thirty years...

More Horse Business

 Because it has been Palio again- about a week of Horse Madness beginning with the wonderful Prove di Notte, the enchanted dawn rides around the Piazza which denotes the beginning of the Palio, when new horses and new fantini (jockeys) have a chance to show off in front of the assembled  Contrada Capitani. 

Arriving at these two mornings of trials is a stirring experience- there are small cafes under the Palchi (the spectator stands which are by this time in place) where people crowd in to get their coffee and their Pasta, which is Siena speech for a croissant, then install themselves on the stands to enjoy the thrilling spectacle. 

Once these Provas are over, the assignation lottery of the horses takes place, and ONDA was assigned  a newcomer by the name of Canarinu, which was  led to our stable without much enthusiasm.

 Nevertheless the contrada rallied and soon there was a cocktail invented called the Canarinu, which included  orange juice; gin and and various  yellow alcoholic substances which everyone was drinking, and loud speakers were installed  on the Via Giovanni Dupre from which the twitter of canaries could be heard.  By the time the Cena della Prova Generale arrived - the evening of the 15th of August- the mood was high on the Via Giovanni Dupre. 

                                                                                  

August Palio is normally run on the 16th of August, but yet again, it started pouring down during the second part of the Corteo Storico, and soon the dreaded green flag which denotes a Palio postponement appeared from a window at the Palazzo Pubblico. 

Once more I had guests who had come from far and wide to see the Palio and who  were disappointed because they had to leave in the morning of the 17th. The rest congregated once more on the Piazza and the Palio finally went ahead after an unusually long and difficult Mossa - the starting of the race- when all sorts of shenanigans take place and the fantini from enemy contradas are doing their utmost to try and ruin the starting position of their adversary. The overwhelming favourite was the star fantino Tittia, riding for Istrice- the Porcupine. 

Our Canarino was unfortunately never to be seen anywhere near the front runners. This was a real surprise Palio- the winner was La Lupa, the She wolf, with a horse called Benitos, also running his first Palio and a rank outsider, ridden by the oldest fantino in the race at 43,  nicknamed Velluto,  who had never won a Palio before and had not even ridden one for 7 years. 

Once I got over the disappointment of not having our Canarinu winning, I was really happy for La Lupa  (who in my opinion has the most elegant colours and costumes of all, in black, white and orange)

because I love the win of an underdog - and here we had two of them, both horse and fantino performed a breath taking Palio. However, I quickly noticed that is not de bon ton to say that to other ONDA members. The correct contrada behaviour is to look sad and down hearted and mutter under ones' breath...

Nevermind. To hell with that. I am delighted for LA LUPA! 

                                                                             

The heat is on- still!

And in the middle of these hot summer days I have been lucky enough to reconnect with my equestrian self- again through my Swedish/Italian friend Gunnar whose daughter has a lovely mare called Valentina, stabled not far from Siena. She also has a younger horse that she uses for competition jumping, so Valentina is being neglected and I can ride her! 

Meanwhile, in more serious horse matters: Siena is beginning to limber up and preparations are underway for the August  Palio- the barriers around the Piazza and the VIP balcony at the starting point are put in place, and soon the 'tufo' arrives which covers the cobbles with a thick layer of earth; and then we are almost there!