Rome, Amalfi Coast and Calabria

After an interminable study of the weather and considering every permutation, we left Porto Vecchio and set off for Rome at eight in the morning. The benign conditions soon turned rough and very lumpy with some four to five meter waves breaking on our stern quarter making for a tiring and sleepless crossing. 27 hours later we were glad to be tied up in Porto di Roma situated just a few hundred meters south of the mouth of the Tiber river and on the outskirts of Ostia. The marina is a sprawling place with hundreds and hundreds of boats, yet it looks a little forlorn. The story goes that in 1975 the film director and writer Paolo Pasolini was murdered here in Ostia and his body dumped in wasteland next to where the marina was built. Ostia is still not very salubrious but in contrast the marina staff are very friendly and this provided an excellent stopover for visiting the eternal city as well as Ostia Antica. The centre of Rome is not far by train and Metro and we went in a few times to imbibe the sights and cuisine. Again the experience of the crowds and people hustling to sell you tickets to avoid queues is a novelty I am happy to dispense with. For all that I have travelled, weirdly I have never been to Rome before. Immersing oneself in the scale and significance of the historical buildings and ruins is something to behold and it is not possible to get more than a glimpse of the importance of the place in a few days.  A couple of days turned into a week as we lingered, partly just enjoying the visit and partly waiting for a repair to our mainsail that suffered a touch from the crossing.


The temperature had been dropping steadily and, having seen that only 12 hours sail further south it was a good 7° warmer, we left and headed for the island of Ponza. Probably impossible in August, it was not too busy at all now and we found a calm anchorage just a short dinghy ride from the harbour and centre of the village. Well short dinghy ride assuming your outboard engine is working perfectly - enough said. The island itself is very narrow and a short walk up a steep hill soon takes you to the other side providing spectacular views of colourful cliffs dropping down to glorious beaches. In the peak season these are fed by a constant stream of ferries bringing in mostly Romans who soak up the sun and push up the prices. Nevertheless it remains a picturesque and charming place whose natural beauty is able to successfully shrug off the ill effects of the tourist trade.

Ponza

Ponza anchorage

Deserted beaches

Again we bumped in to cruising friends, Peter and Christene whom we met in Bonifacio and realised we were all headed to Ischia the next morning. The race was on and binoculars out prepared to check exhausts for any signs of cheating. We departed at dawn and my excuse for falling behind is our tonnage and that I was too lazy to take the dinghy out of the water, whereas they have davits and an X Yacht, the latter point being rather an advantage. After several attempts, a few in weeds and one picking up half the bow of a wooden fishing vessel, we anchored south of the castle on the east coast just next to Ischia town. The night ended up being very rocky as if the whole of the bay of Naples was out for revenge, so we gave up on going to Procida and made our way towards Capri.

Ischia anchorage - calm during the day, less so at night!

Our cunning plan was to arrive really early and maximise the time in the marina which we knew to be expensive. The € 230 charge however is strictly for 24 hours which starts at 2pm sharp. Of course we were really early and would have had to bob about in a rough inhospitable sea for over four hours before we could enter the marina. Since that seemed like a stupid idea we pocketed the marina fee and went on to Amalfi. We have only known the Amalfi coast over the years by road and as spectacular as that sight is, it does not compare with the view from the water. The steep cliffs with impossibly perched villages present a truly dramatic vista. Of course for those of us constantly concerned about the weather it also provides the perfect opportunity to say katabatic and anabatic in the same sentence and seem as if you really know what you are talking about. We circled around a bit and looked to see if an anchorage that I had read about was viable. It was not long before we realised it wasn’t and as if by magic Giulio appeared in his red RIB, sidled up to us and asked if we wanted a berth. After a touch of haggling we said yes and, without any further ado, he clipped his dinghy on to our stern, hopped on board and drove us in. What followed was a true masterclass in boat handling. He took us into an impossibly tight spot with no hesitation or even the slightest touching of fenders. Later we witnessed even greater feats when put boats in places no one believed possible. The skippers on the pontoon, jaws dropped, applauded enviously. He, Giulio, took it in his stride of course, his ultra casual attitude only slightly masking him basking in the glory of it all. I got talking to him and he had all sorts of advice for me about my spare outboard engine that I had stripped and whose carburettor I was cleaning. The gist of it was that I should chuck it in a deep section of the harbour and call my insurance. I fear there may be more to his idea than I would care to admit.

Picture

Postcard

Amalfi

Leaving Amalfi a couple of days later, we ventured south into, for us, unexplored territory. There are not many ports of refuge between here and Tropea 130 nm to the south and the ones that are there, do not respond to phone calls or the radio. Given that some silt up badly, some communication would be nice, if not essential. Anyway, we headed for Acciaroli and getting no response at all and after navigating through 70cm of water below the keel we moored up alongside the fuel berth where we were not bothered, except for the fuel man who pointedly said 'do not reverse!' - seems we had already found the deepest part of the harbour. We have a running joke about places that are described as 'gems' in the pilot book, but turn out to be a euphemism for something else, like 'this could be a gem if someone cared', or 'once was a gem but not in living memory', or 'define gem'. Acciaroli, however, 'is a gem'. The buildings are beautiful, it is mostly pedestrianised, has quaint boutiques and restaurants, not a single piece of litter and not a fridge magnet shop in sight. We ate at a lovely restaurant where the menu was simply a basis for one to discuss the construction of a meal. Even the wine list was only a guideline, as the owner having carefully listened to my order of a particular red, brought a white from a different region, because his choice was going to be better. Obviously, it was.

Tight spaces in Amalfi

Accioroli

Scario

Our next two stops were Scario and Cetraro, neither of which we spent much time in as we were aiming to get back to Tropea, and the familiar edginess of Calabria. We last visited almost exactly a year ago and, since it is so famous for its glorious red onions 'Cipolla Rossa di Tropea', I though I might even try onion ice cream this time.

Santa Marina Salina, Cefalù, Palermo

Cefalù seen from La Rocca

We spent a very pleasant few days at anchor on Vulcano, well, aside from one night when the equation of 30 or so yachts all trying to calculate the optimal swing distance in a small bay didn't quite work out as a sudden squall hit us.  The island is almost tropical and has that same run down feel that buildings in the tropics get when exposed to too much humidity.  The pilot book is less kind though and scoffs about the kind of tourist who comes here for the thermal mud baths. Our vantage point in the bay meant we could not see them anyway. Come to think of it was that the smell of sulphur or, oh, never mind.  Some of our time was spent doing the planning for the last leg of the sail this season, which either meant sailing to Palermo and around Sicily anti-clockwise, or retracing our steps and heading back down the Straits of Messina. Given that we are used to long passages now and wishing to make the most of our last weeks, we decided on the Palermo route. This meant that Salina then the most westerly islands were our next stops.

Peak hour traffic on Salina	Even past residents get a great view
I think Pirates were following us	The industrial centre

The capital, Santa Marina di Salina is a small village, but could survive equally well in the bohemian quarter of any large world city.  The harbour is a well manicured, lava rock construction with good amenities and great shelter. As such they rather exploit the monopoly they have and charge eye-watering amounts for the mooring. I was just looking back at my log book and was reminded how I tried to bargain down the price of a second night in Galixidi. Unsuccessfully I am happy to say, as Salina was tenfold the price plus a bit, and Galixidi is certainly more in need of the revenue.  Nevertheless we stayed two nights and enjoyed a really good meal at a place on the hill that was a recommendation by Gino and Nadine. It was very civilised and felt like we were on holiday.

The Old Man and the Sea - and no fish.

Filicudi was the last of the Aeolian islands we visited. Well, not really visited as we ended up arriving in the late afternoon, attaching ourselves to a buoy and getting an early night for a long sail in the morning. I woke up before dawn and set off while Catherine was still sleeping so we could make more of the daylight when we got to our destination. Cefalù is on the northern Sicilian coast not that far east from Palermo. It is a very popular destination on Sicily, but starting to wind down as the holiday-makers have mostly left. Its colourful history, being occupied variously by Greeks, Normans, Ottomans and now northern europeans has not done much for the selection of fridge magnets on display, but maybe I am just fussy.

Autumnal calm	Terrible marina in a great setting
Evidence of Normans	Walking into town from the marina

After two days and nights in the very exposed and roly harbour it was time to find a more sheltered place. The marina is really awful, but someone there obviously has a sense of humour as the WiFi password is 'thebestmarina' - seriously. Palermo was only 7 hours away and we had a very  pleasant and brisk sail.  As a side-note I can verify that there are absolutely no fish whatsoever between Cefalù
and Palermo, so anyone reading this, wishing to invest time and hope into catching anything along the way is better off reading a book.

Adding colour	Oasis in the chaos
Reality	Bygone glory

Palermo is a gritty, grimy yet delightfully colourful place. You are never more than a few yards away from some facade that is either of huge historical importance or about to fall down, or both.  Of course the clichés about the mafia persist, but that is quite a boring topic given the many more interesting things there are to see. It is a place with its own scars, but unscathed by the presence of the likes of Starbucks, et al. Why would you think of going near a chain for a coffee, when a great espresso costs 90 Cents? Why also would you go to a supermarket chain when the food markets in the bustling alleys offer the freshest, ripest produce for silly low prices? Even the pickpocket threat is exaggerated or maybe we, I mean me of course, look too much like country yokels now and they just move on to clean-shaven tourists (I mean the men of course) with their designer T-shirts and bright sneakers.

Puppet maker

Milliner

Beer drinker

As the last leg of our journey for this season is only just over 200 nautical miles and we have a good two weeks to complete it, we decided to stay on in Palermo for a bit longer and enjoy being in a city again. Who knows, I might even get a haircut.

Tropea and the Aeolian Islands

With all the changeable weather these past few days it is not a surprise to discover that the autumnal equinox is this Thursday. Rather than a pervasive English drizzle we have been treated to a theatre of sun and rain in true Italian style. Instead of being anchored up in these conditions we decided to stay put  in the marina until it blows over.  Tropea is very picturesque with narrow cobbled streets opening up to charming Piazzas and Panoramicos with dramatic views over the beaches and sea some hundred meters below.  Tourist shops seem equally split between those peddling fridge magnets and others selling fine olive oil and Cipolle di Tropea. These red onions are particularly sweet and equally at home on Pizzas as well as in ice cream!

Santa Maria dell'Isola.

Another renovation project

Despite the flood of northern European tourists the local shopkeepers and restaurateurs put on a friendly face and make you feel welcome enough so that they are able to extract that last ounce of discretionary spend. Profits are not obviously spent on restoration here though as every corner seems to present a decaying building just waiting to be returned to its previous glory. That being said, it is a beautiful place and the warmth of the locals seems to belie the darker aspects to its past.This region's reputation for being a recruitment ground for the cosa nostra is maybe connected to the fact that one of its notorious sons became the head of the Gambino crime family after a stint as the boss of the enforcement wing of the Mafia in New York. I am sure that is all over now, mind you not that one would want to ask anybody

Stromboli and fishing rod in background - the volcano was more active.

Dodgy weather had followed for some while and the forecast for the following days was not great, but we decided that we needed to move on and see the Aeolian Islands. The closest one, Stromboli, is not suitable for anchoring in unsettled weather so we headed slightly south towards Panarea. Against a bit of a head wind and current,  it took us almost until dark to get there. We were rewarded however with flashes of eruptions from the craters of Stromboli some ten miles away.  It is not often (ever) that you moor up within sight of an active volcano. It was good to anchor again, although we were reminded that the holding is not the best around these islands when I woke up to a strengthening northerly wind and an Italian yacht starting to drag his anchor quite badly and steadily within shouting distance of us.  This minor drama averted, we decided to weigh anchor and move to a cove in the south get to get away from the breeze and be able to have a swim.

It became clear that the exposure to the south was not going to be great for an over-night either so we headed to the largest of the islands, Lipari. Various people had given us pointers about what to see and do here, but all had pronounced the name differently, each ridiculing the other for saying it incorrectly. The Brits all say Lipari to rhyme with slippery and people from the continent say Lip-Are -ee, turns out the former is closer to the truth when we heard a ship on channel 16 quite distinctly say; Leap'aree.

Night shopping	Capers & more capers	Magnetic Enoteca
Lipari	Arranged Marriages?	Sunset - Panarea

In order to get our bearings we hired a car and drove around the island. This did not take very long as the main road is only about 30 Kms long and, on a clear day, the other islands look as if they are a stone's throw away. The view of Vulcano was particularly good and that made up our minds about where next we would be headed. It is only a few miles to the south, but we made our way there slowly as I planned to catch a fish for lunch. That didn't work out of course and we anchored in a calm bay under the crater of the semi-active volcano. There is no lava but there is a slight whiff of sulphur in the air. A little later a fisherman came by offering some of his fresh catch. I declined and felt like telling him he was just trying to rub salt into my failed fishing wounds.

Lipari looking southwards to Vulcano

Looking toward Stromboli 

Intrepid hiker on Lipari

Cariati, Ciro, Crotone in Calabria

Leaving Cariati Marina

As I mentioned previously, the weather has suddenly changed and the predictable sunshine every morning and afternoon has given way to some heavy downpours and cooler temperatures this past week.  On the bright side the rain has been clean, not like the red kind we sometimes get in Turkey that takes tons of elbow grease to remove from your deck and sails if you forget to close the sail bag.  With all the accompanying thunderstorm activity though we have been somewhat sedentary (I am not a fan of being struck by lightning) and inadvertent guests of the three Cs of Calabria; Cariati, Ciro and Crotone.  These are not the most distinguished of places and I doubt many of you will have visited them or after seeing what I post, visit them in the future, but that does not diminish the adventure of discovering them. 

Ciro Marina - main shopping district - just the shops are missing

The end of the holiday season means that many places are boarded up and the streets have already taken on a forlorn look, which is likely to last until July next year. Shops selling essentials are only open a handful of hours a day and lack the choice found in Puglia. Only the Pizzerias and bars seem open for business and they continue to offer good value and a great atmosphere. If we share a Pizza and have a drink each we can get away with a dinner bill of € 7. This of course is before ice cream, grappa, coffee, etc. Actually our favourite local drink has become Amaro, which is a bitter, herbal liqueur somewhat akin to Jaegermeister. Some are better with ice and others not as you are bound to discover, as if you ask a knowledgable barman for ice in a Capo for instance, you are likely to get a severe talking to. 

A common sight in ports	Supermarket?	Safely below the clouds
Calabrian beach all to yourself	No crowds in Crotone	Fenders are a dog's best friend

We have a couple of long stretches ahead of us before we reach the straights of Messina and head toward the Aeolian Islands this coming week and the uncertainty about finding berths in Marinas has been compounded by no one answering calls. We just figured out yesterday, after speaking to an ormeggiatore in Crotone that it is because they don’t answer foreign numbers.  So, the first place we went to after we arrived was the Vodafone phone shop to get an Italian number, second place was the dictionary; Ormeggiatore = man who ties up your yacht.

Upmarket part of Crotone

Essential transport

No swimming today

Again we have had interesting neighbours, all of whom give us insider tips that are not to be found in the pilot books. Ciro Marina was recommended to us by Rene and Anneke and upon saying that the harbourmaster said ‘Ah! Le Hollandese?’, and promptly gave us a day for free.  I have yet to tell Rene how often I am going to try that down the coast.  Actually the port was full to capacity with small fishing boats but that did not stop Enzo finding us a spot in the Lift Bay. This meant we were super-protected in the strong northerly and only had to leave it once briefly for him to haul another boat out the water.  Crotone, despite its reputation, ended up being relatively luxurious. Washing machines on top of potable water within sprinting distance of the fish market have all contributed to a pleasant stay thus far.

Deserted aside from our bike	Crotone Centro Storico
Siesta for some	Forza Crotone!