THE ISLAND OF PROCIDA

Procida is different. It is different from Capri, Ischia, the Phlegrean Fields and Naples, It is different from all other volcanic “rocks” in the world. It is different for its contrasts and harmonies, for the lights and shades, for strong colours and soft silence, for magic vibrations, for smiling eyes and speaking looks. Small, seductive, crowded, mysterious: Procida is a world apart. The bright colourful homes, bright like just a few , the dark and warm shades of the tufa rock. The inhabitants: stubborn and suspicious like those of the Basque Country, warm and passionate as only the children of the Sirens (and giants) can be.
The music: on one hand the melodious silence of heavenly corners, on the other one the noisy cars and scooters that only the most crowded island in the world can have. And then, the magic city wall , the oldest and the most mysterious place on the island, with the beautiful Abbey and treasures of art, history and nature.
The never-ending poetry of Corricella, the fishermen’ village the nightlife and the cheerful dyes of Marina Sancio Cattolico, the soft sandy beach in the nice port of Chiaiolella, the wild beauty of Vivara.
It is like diving in something very colored, scented and melodious but it is hard to explain in few words, a dive into a world that only the experience can partly explain. A dive in a hot sea that, as Jorge Luis Borges said,”It is an ancient language you cannot decode.

Antonio Emanuele Piedimonte

Taken from:” Procida uno scrigno sul mare”
( G. Actilio – A. Cariati – G. Palladino. Edizioni Intramoenia )