Melissa Kite is punished for ignoring the Madonna of the sea

‘Benvenuti alla Small Cluster Band!’ And about time, too. We had been sitting in the Castello in Castellabate for half an hour watching an empty stage, while members of La Small Cluster Band stood around eating slices of pizza from takeaway boxes. ‘They’re on Italian time,’ I told my mother, as she sat in her place wearing an expression communicating polite but profound dissatisfaction.

It had been my idea to spend an evening in the historic hilltop town of Castellabate listening to La Small Cluster Band playing ‘Concerto Swing’ after seeing a poster advertising the event on a wall. What could be more sophisticated, I thought, than an evening of live music in Castellabate, which boasts of being the most beautiful town in Italy.

I booked a table at the most idyllic restaurant there and told Luigi we would not be dining in the hotel that night. Luigi was not impressed. ‘But you have to see the Madonna,’ he protested. ‘The procession is tonight.’

Uh-oh. This was a dilemma. La Small Cluster Band clashed with the festival of the  Madonna del mare in the neighbouring town where our hotel is. Every July they carry the statue of Mary down from the church into the harbour, on to a boat, then they sail around the bay with it, sail back and carry her up to the church again late at night with a band and all sorts of kerfuffle culminating in fireworks.

I have seen this marvellous ceremony many times, in various Italian towns, and what I almost wanted to say to Luigi was: ‘Once you’ve seen one Madonna being carried up a hill, you’ve seen them all.’

Shocking, I know. As a good Catholic girl I should be thoroughly ashamed. But I had been so pleased with myself for discovering La Small Cluster Band and what I thought would be a night of sophisticated entertainment.