‘Winklestone’
Have you lost your marbles? If you are Italian, the answer may well be yes. The world-famous quarries around the ancient towns of Carrara and Massa are faced with closure. They provided the brilliant white stone that Michelangelo personally chose to create his David and John Nash’s 19thcentury Marble Arch.
And despite continuing to be the world’s largest producer of this exquisite material, generating £250m for the besieged economy, Tuscany’s regional government has decided that the quarries are a blot on the landscape.
The creamy-white seams that form the face of the Apuan Alps, which appear as snowcovered peaks from the lower regions of the Italian seaside resorts, are apparently putting holidaymakers off their sun beds.
Unsurprisingly, the marble producers are fighting back, claiming they have been there since Roman times and that the livelihoods of 5,000 people are at risk. For those, like me, who dream of installing marble worktops in their kitchens, it is bad news. A reduction in supply will inevitably mean a rise in prices. Or worse, no supply at all.
The alternative could be the much more local Sussex Marble, a fossiliferous freshwater limestone, which is quarried in the Weald parts of Kent and Sussex. In the 19th century, Sussex Marble was prized more highly than even its Italian counterpart, with the Archbishop’s chair at Canterbury entirely constructed of the stone. Edward the Confessor’s chapel in Westminster Abbey and the tombs of Edward III and Richard II are also made of its subtle grey tones. Searches through salvage yards for discarded slabs appear to be the best chance of having it fitted in the kitchen.
Personally, I prefer its colloquial name, ‘winklestone’, as it is not, technically, a marble (not having been subjected to a metamorphosis). Some local house owners are lucky enough to boast whole floors made of the material, which attests to its durability and experts claim its composition of gastropods and winkles isn’t just delicious but when crushed, polishes up a treat…
Next week: The gulls are back
And despite continuing to be the world’s largest producer of this exquisite material, generating £250m for the besieged economy, Tuscany’s regional government has decided that the quarries are a blot on the landscape.
The creamy-white seams that form the face of the Apuan Alps, which appear as snowcovered peaks from the lower regions of the Italian seaside resorts, are apparently putting holidaymakers off their sun beds.
Unsurprisingly, the marble producers are fighting back, claiming they have been there since Roman times and that the livelihoods of 5,000 people are at risk. For those, like me, who dream of installing marble worktops in their kitchens, it is bad news. A reduction in supply will inevitably mean a rise in prices. Or worse, no supply at all.
The alternative could be the much more local Sussex Marble, a fossiliferous freshwater limestone, which is quarried in the Weald parts of Kent and Sussex. In the 19th century, Sussex Marble was prized more highly than even its Italian counterpart, with the Archbishop’s chair at Canterbury entirely constructed of the stone. Edward the Confessor’s chapel in Westminster Abbey and the tombs of Edward III and Richard II are also made of its subtle grey tones. Searches through salvage yards for discarded slabs appear to be the best chance of having it fitted in the kitchen.
Personally, I prefer its colloquial name, ‘winklestone’, as it is not, technically, a marble (not having been subjected to a metamorphosis). Some local house owners are lucky enough to boast whole floors made of the material, which attests to its durability and experts claim its composition of gastropods and winkles isn’t just delicious but when crushed, polishes up a treat…
Next week: The gulls are back