Archaeology, new style

Here we are in the south of Sardinia on my 71^st birthday. I really do feel I now officially an old lady.

The Tiny House we are staying in is a cabin tucked into the far corner of the woody garden of a family house in the sprawling yet secret area of Spagnolu, developed in the last few decades from what must have been dry olive groves, with streets named 1, 2, 3, 4…. and with a smart but small porto (marina) a mile or so down by the sea. We chose it (for 3 nights) for its silence and solitude, so it is ironic that the lonely dogs guarding each of the neighbouring properties - dozens of them – kept up a highly orchestral barking symphony on and off during the night (like Disney’s Thousand and One Dalmations or Lady and the Tramp), and today the neighbour has brought in a digger to excavate a swimming pool. Our landlady has a delightful swimming pool too, which was so refreshing and reviving when we went for a splash after unpacking.

It is really almost tragic how the modern world is consuming the old ways. The new motorways and roads are pretty well universal in style, and all sub-urban landscapes heavily Americanised in their fencing, concrete and steel buildings, advertising, fencing and so on. It is more difficult to pick up the historic (ie cultural) signs of a local place, as everywhere tends to look the same. Having just been to Denmark and France, it makes me feel a bit sad that they all have a kind of sameness… noticeably changed in the last ten years. Friends used to talk about the death of ‘old France’ … and this is the same thing. Maybe it's always been like this. We are in a global empire now.  Whoever makes roads pretty well makes them the same way wherever you are.  Though I notice that the 'airbridges' which are used by British Airways to load and unload passengers from their planes are different from Easyjet's.  Blessed variation!

Our landlady Rachele has just been to reset the wifi which we unplugged by mistake, and told us in wonderful English (an -a sound at the end of every word) about all the places we can go and visit, and has mentioned that today is market-day in Pula. So we are amending our plans, to go and seek out that bit of local culture. She says the digger-man next door is excavating a septic tank (not a swimming pool thank goodness) and she hopes he will have finished today. We are fervently hoping so too. We will go and explore the archaeology tomorrow, or at some other time.

I meant to mention – a propos of the roads – that our journey here in the hired car came along the coast to the west of Cagliari (pronounced Calari or Caggly-arri) by the aircrew – anyway, the road comes past some of the most astonishing oil refineries I have ever seen – vast cities of pipework, retorts, distilleries, chimneys, gantries, who knows what all the parts are? - but utterly fantastic structures, very close to the road, massive testimonies to the old culture – slash-and-burn, take-what-you-like, big-is-best… All these things we have mostly subscribed to without thought. They are already archaeological in some ways, as solar or wind-power takes over. My photos were snatched as we drove past, too late to get the panoramic view of the mile or so of industrialised landscape.

I bought a little camera at the airport to try to make it easier to take pix as we drive along... otherwise the phone does all the work and sometimes the mapping takes precedence. Now I am wrestling with the controls on the camera - how to turn the flash off. BTW I rather like the twin 'moons' in my refinery photo - reflection of the air-vents on the car's dashboard.