Mysterious in its antiquity, intriguing in its mystery, Capri’s Grotta di Matermania once bore witness to secret cults and Imperial pleasures. High in the limestone crags on the east end of the island, the cavern is invisible from both land and sea. Considering its ancient role, such seclusion was necessary—it’s the spot’s best protection.
A Site of Sacred Ritual from Antiquity
Italian scholars acknowledge the tradition embodied in the cavern’s name. Spellings vary slightly, but they all derive from the Latin Magna Mater, or “Great Mother,” the primordial earth goddess of Asia Minor, “mother of a thousand gods” (Aeneid, Book VI).
The Great Mother is also identified with the wildlands goddess Cybele, whose iconic black stone was relocated to Rome in 204 B.C. Emperor Augustus, who developed Capri as a retreat, revered Cybele as Mother of the Gods, according to The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets (Barbara Walker; Harper & Row, 1983). The cavern was transformed into a Roman nymphaeum, no doubt used by the court of Tiberius, who resided on Capri in 26-37 A.D.
The Matromania Loop Walk
The route skirts the eastern edge of the island. Footpaths are mainly paved. Leave from the clock-tower square and follow the Via le Botteghe up the hill. Eventually you arrive at a tiny crossroads (called “La Croce,” if you need to ask directions) with a neighborhood espresso bar and a store. The path ahead is marked “Via Tiberio,” but that’s a trip for another day. Turn right onto the Via Matermania.
The path winds between stucco walls to a little park and a tiny shrine where the Virgin Mary keeps vigil against werewolves at the crossroads. Take the lane to the left, which passes olive and walnut orchards. The grade descends gently toward the breezy terrace of a pizzeria, tucked under the sheer cliff. From this point a seemingly endless series of brick steps leads down to the grotto. Total time: about 20 minutes.
“Capri is nature at its best”—so declares Sophia Loren in It Happened in Naples. Nature indeed reigns supreme here. Golden morning mist rushes up the ravine; brilliant blue water shimmers far below. Birds orgy in the pines, and poplar leaves clatter like applause. In May, you may have to jump aside as a pack of yodeling, Lederhosen-clad German students troops past, but otherwise this spot provides a serene respite from Capri’s summer crowds.
Remains of a Roman Nymphaeum
Ducking under a massive ledge, you enter the grotto. The only sounds are the wind in the pines and the faint smack…smack of water dropping from limestone stalactites. A natural cavern, the grotto contains the remains of a typical Roman nymphaeum. The vault is perhaps fifty feet high. At the rear, steps cut into two concentric semicircular daises lead to a collapsed niche in the back wall. At one time, walls and floors were sumptuously sheathed in marble and niches contained statuary. A pool would have gathered water dripping from a spring in the rock. Plunderers and collectors stripped the nymphaeum during the 19th century.
Leaving the grotto, continue along the pathway (now the Via Pizzolungo) to Punta Tragara. Along the way, you get a bird’s eye view of the step-roofed villa of the modern writer Curzio Malaparte and the famous Faraglioni rocks. Prickly-pear, rosemary and euphorbias populate a natural xeriscape garden. Via Tragara heads back toward the clock-tower square.
Julia Purdy - My background includes an M.A. in English and a B.A. in Art History. I have a strong background in writing and teaching, and have ...
