Monday 21 May 2012

And the Earth Moved

Some time after my eldest son drove in early Sunday morning my bed started shaking violently. And it wasn’t my secret lover trying his moves. The shaking went on. And on. It took quite a few seconds for me to realise.. Earthquake!

I ran upstairs to check the eldest in the attic who sleeps under the beams of the house. All intact. And saw youngest sitting up sitting up in his bed saying ‘That was an earthquake, Mum. Did you feel it?’

Heart-thumping terror. The siren in the villa above us continued to waa-waa-waa. And then nothing.

There was another strong tremor an hour later. Hours afterwards, I heard that friends in town had gone down into the street barely dressed. My daughter huddled under her cousin’s bed. I knew the epicentre was far away from us (around eighty kilometres it turned out) and that this area lies on a bed of water (la pianura padana) rather than more jolting bedrock, and yet many houses like ours are built with heavy beams and thick, tumbledown walls of stone and mortar, that have weathered centuries of icy winters and baking summers. Even the ancient beams of our house have slooped with age.

Then we saw the real damage on the television. People in small towns like ours, scattered along the plains south of the Po River. Wreckage, toppled buildings, despair. It turned into one of those odd, still days, where you feel you should be doing something, but what?

We eventually carried out our plans to go to the annual flower festival at a nearby Palladian villa that stands in a massive rock amphitheatre at the edge of the hills. It was raining and the mood was subdued. People moved from stand to stand in the noble setting. You could hear a continual murmur: about apartment buildings swaying, dogs howling, people in the streets. It made for a strange cohesion.

On an incline, the grounds of the villa have central tiered stone steps with a low wall marking off each terrace looking over the conglomeration of constructions on the plains below. Ugly houses, pre-fabricated factories. I wonder did the architect foresee this? How modernity would sully the zone and how from behind the scrolled iron entrance gates the brooding walker should be enticed on with a reward. For as one ascends, each level presents a more detached and ephemeral view, and on a clear day one could perhaps see all the way to the spires of Venice. Or at least imagine this to be the case.

Each low wall is lined with a row of Palladian statues. That each statue is so perfectly composed (rumoured to be cleaned with oxidised water and a toothbrush by the scruffily dressed count) makes me think of what will last. This exquisite corner of land, sheltered by the rockface, with some of the austere village houses even dug from its flanks; the yellow calla lilies in a plastic bag in my hand, which will most probably not survive my random plant care this winter; my friends waving me over for a drop of villa vine with their deaf shepherd dog and a batch of umbrellas.

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On an entirely frivolous note I would like to invite you to read my guest post with the fantastic (and wildly successful) crime writer Mel Sherratt www.highheelsandbookdeals.com. Thanks for having me Mel and do check out some items from my Italian shoes collection!

15 comments:

  1. Yikes. An earthquake is a nasty surprise.

    I do wonder if what we've built in the last 50 years will even come close to the longevity of what was built with natural materials. If your part of the world is any indication, clearly it won't. I suppose that's the difference between building something you'll live in and hope to pass down or use a ongoing income (rent), versus building for sale and profit.

    Let's talk about your book! That's much cheerier. I'm off to read your guest post to cheer me up on this rather ass-draggy Monday morning.

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    1. Yes most modern Italian architecture is pre-fab or ugly concrete. You wonder how they can erect such ugliness next to the beautiful buildings of the past (which do topple down on people). I can't imagine what it must be like to live in Japan, where tremors are a part of daily life. My heart would be in my mouth all day!

      Yeah Mondays are not always great, especially pounding rainy ones! Next week's post will be cheerier I promise.

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  2. Glad everyone is OK after the earthquake (yikes!) and loved the shoes...especially the Miu Mius and the cage shoes!

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    1. Thanks! There was even a small tremor this morning. Not good.

      Glad you enjoyed the shoes - the cage ones are unbelievably comfortable because the platform is so high at the front. I wonder if it is illegal to drive in these things??

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  3. Eek! Now I feel guilty about complaining that I slept through the recent Canberra earthquake...

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    1. No I truly think it might have been better to sleep through it. Now every time someone bumps the table I am on alert! In any case this house shook so much you would have been downstairs in a flash.. Not good at all xx

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  4. The aftershocks seem to be ongoing in Christchurch - I have felt one very minor tremor in Auckland the whole time we've lived here and I don't want to experience more than that! As I commented on a Cch writer's fb pafe recently, I panic when the washer goes on spin!

    Right, well, you got my pulse going - off to follow this link....

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    1. Yes it's more than frightening. I can't imagine the terror of a huge earthquake. My son was looking at You Tube footage of Japan afterwards and I couldn't bear to see it!

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  6. What a way to wake up ---- I'm so glad your house stood strong. We live in northern California, so earthquakes (little ones) happen pretty regularly, but I still remember my first "real" one that lasted about 30 seconds. Man, that was a loooooooong 30 seconds. And like you said here, Cat, you just don't know when or if they're going to be finished. Waiting for the aftershocks is just awful. You have no idea what you should do.

    So glad you're all okay.

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    1. Thanks for your thoughts Teri. This is not really an earthquake area so I think that doubled the shock. I am having an architect friend check existing cracks this weekend. Otherwise we'll be cherry picking!

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  7. So very glad you are all okay and that your house survived the shake-up. It must have been a strange, sad day to see reports of all the houses that didn't.

    We are moving to a more active geographical zone: earthquakes, volcanoes, flooding, the odd tsunami when we visit the coast. Having spent my life in the middle of the desert where nothing like that ever occurs, it will be a little unnerving to have to keep those hazards in mind.

    Be safe, my friend.

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    1. Oh thanks Averil. I'm keen to hear about how the move is going. I love mid-life moves, the idea of evolution never being complete.

      But volcanoes! Hmmm. That is quite drastic! Please don't tell me it is on your doorstep.

      However I'm an old sailor and I do like being conditioned by the weather, by the elements. I can feel you are going to love it there.

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  8. There really is nothing worse - I have been in Christchurch for several of their 'big ones' and it is truly a scary experience when they are of a magnitude you know is going to do damage. Lets hope the aftershocks do not stay too long xo

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    1. I can't imagine the terror of living through a 'big one'. I just don't want to. Here the aftershocks are driving me nuts and there was just another one while we were sitting in the attic. To run or not to run? To trust the roof beams or not to trust?

      I just keep feeling everything shaking, even when it's not. The people south of here must be so exhausted by it now.

      Thanks! X

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