Easter Parade

It won’t be long now till we will have completed our first year here in Le Marche, but before then there are still one or two annual events and festivals left for us to experience; one of those needed to complete our set being Easter.

We had been anticipating Good Friday (or Venerdì Santo) for some time, as lots of people had told us that MSP’s passion play was one of the religious and cultural highlights of the year, as indeed it turned out to be, bringing in visitors from surrounding towns as well as a large turn out of residents. We had our own out-of-towner as Computer Luca joined us for dinner then went with us to watch the play.

The good thing about feeding Luca is that, because he lives such an international lifestyle jetting to various cities for computer conferences, he’s always open to trying different things to eat, unlike a great many of his compatriots who think that if their food doesn’t originate within a ten kilometre radius of where they were born, then it isn’t worth eating. On this occasion, we gave him Catalan Chicken with Picada (a Spanish casserole, obviously) and roasted vegetables. ‘Ooo, vegetables with sauce,’ he commented as he spooned them onto his plate, as the most moisture you get with an Italian meat dish is a splattering of the juices.

Anyway, to get back to the main plot. We parked the car down the hill from the church just after 9pm and walked up to where men in yellow vests were directing traffic. All the streets through MSP were closed, so if any unaware motorist actually got as far as the church, it was only to be sent down the road to Torre San Patrizio – which would have added a good few kilometres to their journey.

At the church itself, final preparations were in their final stages so we found a place in the gathering crowd – passing Roman soldiers and Palestinian townspeople on the way, as well as Marcello from the factory, who was steadying his chariot-harnessed horse. The Passion was due to begin at 9.15, though, as Luca kept saying, we’d be lucky if it broke the 10pm barrier. This meant we were able to get a quick coffee at Bar Centrale, along with what must have been half of the town and copious visitors, and still be back in good time for when it did actually start at about 9.30. On time then, by Italian reckoning.

The first part of the Passion played out on the steps of the floodlit church, complete with the aforementioned chariot bringing the centurion, until the rejection of Christ by the crowd and his sentencing to death. At this point, the Roman soldiers, augmented by several on horseback that came trotting up the road, moved the audience to the side of the street to make way for Christ to progress through the town carrying his cross, followed by the two robbers and a horde of townsfolk.

We fell in behind this procession and followed it through the town and eventually back to the church. This took some time, as you can imagine, but was a truly moving experience partly because of the convincing recreation of the Passion but also because of the atmosphere in the town. Apart from the spotlights on the church, the whole place was lit by candles in coloured holders. These were set in wall brackets and arched over the narrow streets in the old centre, while elsewhere people had put their own coloured candles in their windows and at the fronts of their houses. And because there was no traffic, there was an almost eerie hush over MSP, broken only by the shuffling of the crowd and the cries of the Christ’s followers as the soldiers whipped him.

Once back at the church, the crucifixion itself was re-enacted, with the robbers stripped and hoisted up onto their crosses followed by Christ himself and a short tableau with his mother Mary at the foot of the cross. After his crying out to God and death, the ‘bodies’ were taken down and Christ was carried into the church, which marked the end of the Passion itself. Shortly afterwards the doors opened and there started a second procession; this one was to take the image of the crucified Christ in its glass casket and the other iconic statuary from that church to its sister one at the top of the town. Most people disappeared at this point, as by then it was knocking on for 11pm and maybe, like me, they wanted to be left with the moving experience of the Passion rather than a parade of icons.

Saturday saw Irene, one of my students, being driven to her lesson by her mum as she was nursing a bunny in her lap, which was an Easter present for Stephen and me. Before you wonder how a cute little rabbit would fare with a pair of terriers, don’t worry as there was no chance of Bella and Harry getting their chops round it as it was a cake that she’d made. You may recall that the Christmas delicacy in this area is il serpent (a quick check of December’s entries will fill you in on what that is if you have forgotten). The Easter equivalent, made in a similar way, is a lamb, but that being too complicated (and besides, how do you cut up a cake with four legs?) Irene had thought creatively and made us a lovely bunny instead – altogether a better idea and as scrumptious to eat as it was to look at

Food was also the focus of today as we went for Easter lunch with Marco and Maddalena to a hotel in Montappone, some 15 kilometres southwest of MSP and famous as the centre of hat production in the area. We’d had a bit of trouble finding somewhere as we’d left it a bit late before trying to book, but Stephen suggested the Palazzo Riccucci hotel, which he knew about as Sara, the intern with the misfortune of having to work for Leaping Luca, works there at the weekends. I’ve mentioned before about the length of celebratory meals in Italy but this one broke all records, taking over five hours from arrival to departure. I think part of the reason, aside from the Italians love of wandering between courses, was that though the lunch was due to start at 12.45, it was getting on for an hour later before the majority of tables were occupied. Italy: the land where time is forgotten.

As for the meal itself, although it might not have been our first choice the quality and the service were excellent and we would happily eat there again. The restaurant was downstairs in what seemed to be an old vaulted cellar, but which was light and airy with creamy stone walls and large glass doors filling one side, which opened onto a terrazzo with a sweeping view of the valley beyond. It may have been a bit of a gastronomic marathon, but it wasn’t a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon: eating fine food in a relaxed atmosphere with good friends.

And so, given everything that we’ve experienced this weekend on our first Easter here, I can say unreservedly that Pasqua in Italy is to be highly recommended.