In Castelbuono, we visited the eponymous castle. Belonging
to the all-powerful Ventimiglia family, the
main attraction was said to be the chapel of Santa Anna, high on the top floor.
Nobody was there, but in we went – the first verdict was
that it was amazingly complete, with stunning virtuoso stucco work. Lots of
cherubs and swags. What a delight!
But as we looked closer, we noticed that amid the frippery a
host of little goblin faces were grinning at us. Many of the cherubs were
grotesquely formed. It was disturbing. Behind a grille at the altar was the
mummified head of Santa Anna, mercifully hard to make out. At an upper window,
something was rattling, as if trying to get in.
We looked around with increasing distaste and soon exited.
While on the top floor, we used the public loos. Beneath us, at the foot of the
castle, we could hear a cheery school trip entering. For me, this dispelled the
tension, but Nigel seemed even more motivated to leave the castle and he set
off down the stairs in quite a hurry. I had not realised he was so sensitive to
atmosphere.
‘Oh dear, Nigel. Is it because that chapel creeped you out?’
He gave me a look but said nothing until we had re-emerged
into the sunlight.
‘No,’ he said, ‘It’s because I used the toilet and it
wouldn’t flush, and thirty school kids are now headed straight for the scene of
the crime.’
Hmmm. Perhaps he’s not that sensitive after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment