Story in Queen Mob’s Tea House

‘Brica-brica-brica on Mount Anvil‘ is now online, published by Queen Mob’s Tea House. Many, many thanks to Jessica Sequira. I am thrilled they got this one. It’s a particular kind of madness.

I suppose, when you write, you choose your focus and you choose your lens, and you also decide how much to include in the image. This story is highly focused. I’d say it’s on high zoom, and the shifts are sudden, hence the absurdism.

Two years ago I went to Rome for a few days. I got a bargain trip. One of those, I can’t believe I just bought that and it was so cheap and it seems so amazing, sort of bookings. Four nights at the Villa Grazioli in Frascati, on a hill just outside Rome. This villa is a palace originally built for a cardinal, and dates from around 1580 and has been added to over the centuries. It was abandoned in the mid-twentieth century and the frescoes are still in the process of being renovated, but it was derelict for a while. Who doesn’t love an abandoned building? Villa Grazioli is no longer derelict, I must add, but there are hints of that part of its past. Everything about it was perfect. Lovely people, incredibly beautiful setting and really strange.

Apart from the grounds with the long drive and 400 year old plane tree, the underground tunnel that connected the palace to the outbuildings, the comfortable public rooms with their lovely sofas, tapestries, bowls of flowers, frescoes and paintings, there was a gallery upstairs where you could wander or sit and write, as I did. It was a masterpiece of trompe l’oeil – and that is such an intriguing art form – you know you are being tricked, but you love it all the same. And this is a palace of trickery, nothing is what it seems, and you are in a world that is entirely unreal, surreal.

While I was there, the staff were preparing for a wedding. Already a stunning venue, the transformation was amazing – tea lights the size of dinner plates lined the driveway, little iron chairs were set in the grounds – flowers and ribbons decorated the topiary. Grand tables were laid with glasses. The staff changed from their neat pale blue and grey uniforms to smart black. The odd thing was, although I saw the guests arrive, I heard nothing from them as the evening progressed – not a cheer or giggle or even a car engine as they departed. But the following day, I noticed champagne glasses abandoned on walls, by the fountain and in the bushes, so I’d say they had a good time but it was as if they had never been there.

I could ramble on and on about that trip because it was so extraordinary. I’ve pasted lots of pictures instead. Note the ammonite-type staircase. Isn’t it similar to the massive version in the Vatican? You can see from the photos below that there are loads of chairs and sofas dotted about the palace where you can sit and write. The story is totally a result of my stay there. If you read it, I hope you enjoy it. Maybe book a little holiday there yourself. Frascati is gorgeous with lots of excellent and friendly restaurants and the hotel runs a bus to the station whenever the train leaves for Rome, which is about half an hour away. By the way, there’s a paragraph in ‘Brica-brica-brica…” that could be a menu for Masterchef Extreme. I’ll add the link again here: Brica-brica-brica on Mount Anvil.

One tip, if you do go and arrive in Rome on a Sunday, you may find that no trains run to Frascati and you’ll need to take a taxi. Don’t take an illegal taxi because you don’t want to queue – book it online in advance, it’s cheaper and probably safer, certainly more comfortable than the old wreck of a vehicle I went in, and maybe the driver will actually know the way!