John Cornwell, author and academic.
Where would you go?
From Palazzola, the summer villa of the Venerable English College, high on the flanks of Lake Albano, south of Rome, to Naples, walking, more or less, along the Via Appia. We should arrive at the Duomo on 19 September in time for the miracle of the liquefaction of the blood of San Gennaro, a 4th-century martyr. If it fails, the parenti, or “aunts”, of San Gennaro hurl insults at the archbishop, who officiates. The saint’s blood, kept in an ampoule, looks like a lump of black rock. After hymns, and a lot of turning back and forth, it turns bright red and fizzes like Tizer – at which 5,000 cheering worshippers rush out into the piazza for their gelato and espresso fixes. The miracle is like the lighting of the Easter candle: a sense of resurrection for a troubled city. There are plenty of theories explaining away the prodigy, but it’s the celebration of hope and new beginnings that matter.
