Italy 2022 #1
Wednesday 11 May
I have just spent the most delightful day meandering through the Necropoli di Banditaccia. You may wonder how anyone could find a necropolis delightful, but this is unlike any burial site I have ever come across.
The Etruscans, perhaps the true Italians, given that they were here long before the arrival of the greedy, vicious, Romans who smashed nation after nation in their relentless quest to extend their empire, have left scant trace of their passing. Their houses and temples were built from wood and have long since been absorbed back into the land. What they have left, however, are their remarkable tombs. Their tombs constituted entire cities for the dead. Multiple, grass and tree-covered mounds are still clearly visible. On closer inspection, you find that these have been excavated out of solid rock with huge blocks of perfectly shaped stone laid on top to form a grass-covered, dome-like structure. Inside the rock are chambers with stone benches upon which the dead were laid out, maybe with sarcophagi, maybe not. I have read that the ashes of their slaves were left with their masters, along with urns, vases, pots, even jewellery and armour. Everything they might need to continue to live a full life although not so propitious if you happened to be a slave.. Needless to say, any artefacts have long since vanished, although some are apparently in various museum in Italy and beyond.
The Etruscans favoured building their cities on a ridge with a deep gully and a hill on the other side where they could bury their dead. This is precisely what happened at Cerveteri. From the Necropolis you can still see the walls of the old city towering at the top of the cliff on the far side of a precipitous ravine.
Despite the macabre purpose of the place, it is surprisingly peaceful. It is verging on overgrown as you wander down the sunken roads between the tombs with the entrances to tombs like scars in the rock. But it is shady, quiet, soothing. There is a refreshing, slightly musty coolness as you duck into the tombs. There is the indignant plop of vibrant green and black spotted frogs leaping into one of the many flooded tombs as you pass. And there is hardly a soul about. Just the odd passer-by and the occasional raucously chattering school-party.
All in all, if you fancy something different 30-40 minutes north of Rome on a hot day, you could do a lot worse.
Tracey's Travelling Tales 