Only Connect

What did E M Forster mean when he wrote “only connect” at the beginning of Howards End? I may have had a theory when I sat English A Level but I don’t have a clue now and I still remember that Howards End was not only not a page-turner but massively boring. OK, so now I’ve blown any crediblity I might have had as a high-brow blogger, clean out of the water. The connections in today’s post are also tenuous.

I was musing on Ridley Scott’s latest, The Martian, that cropped up in yesterday’s post. It was filmed in a studio in Budapest and, while some NASA scenes were really filmed at NASA, the Chinese space centre is actually Terminal 1 at Budapest airport. The airport I’m sure was glad of the income as the terminal has been closed because of lack of money.

The film measures the passing of time in SOLs – this means solar days. I walked out of Bologna yesterday up to the Santuario di Madonna di San Luca. It is a steepish climb up a roofed arcade, the Portico di San Luca, that has about the same number of arches (666) as there are SOLs in the film.

It was a lovely walk on a crisp, sunny, autumnal day. Coming back down my thoughts turned to luncheon. In the style of Lunch With The FT, here is the bill.

The trattoria had linen tablecloths and an enticing menu. I had stuffed zucchini; Robert, rabbit with roast potatoes, washed down with a bottle of white wine. I had a pudding and we both had digestifs: grappa and Amaro Montenegro; then coffee and the bill – a modest 61 Euros. I would be a cheap date if the FT were to treat me to lunch.

I had not come across Amaro Montenegro and discover that it is made locally and is a typical Italian bitters made with herbs, probably best drunk with ice. It reminded me of Cynar which is made of artichokes.

In the afternoon we went to the Palazzo Albergati for an exhibition of pictures by Jan Brueghel the Elder and his descendants; 150 years of Flemish art. It was good but every picture was too bright, too clean, too pristine. A picture painted on copper more than 400 years ago should have cracks where the paint has shrunk; here it looks like the lid of a chocolate box.

Next month at The Queen’s Gallery, Buckingham Palace, there will be an exhibition called Masters of the Everyday: Dutch Artists in the Age of Vermeer. I hope they are a bit grubbier.