Not much is left of the old biblical town of Corinth. Most of the ancient ruins have long come down over countless earthquakes. In its place is a bustling city. The harbor is rather small but close to the downtown area. Young boys are diving off the piers with big grins and lanky frames. Shops are filled with the latest designer clothes and restaurants offer gyros and Greek salads which we are quickly getting addicted to. We spent the night and the next morning sailed through the Corinth Cannel.
The cannel is about a 3.2 mile stretch that connects the Gulf of Corinth with the Agean Sea. Nero first started digging the cannel back in Roman times using 6000 Jewish slaves, but never finished it. It seems a little uprising in Gault distracted him from the project. Octavia tried to bridge the gap by building a road and dragging his boats across this narrow stretch of lands. The remains of that road can still be seen. It wasn’t until 1893 that the cannel was finally cut through the limestone. We had to wait outside the cannel for almost 3 hours before we were allowed to cross in so the boats from the other direction could clear the channel. The interesting thing is there is a low bridge just as you enter the channel. Instead of raising the bridge, it is submerged into the water and the boats pass over it. When we came out the other end, we had strong winds and were able to sail for 5 more hours all the way to Athens.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Patras for the Night
Just a stop along the way. Patras is a pretty big city with all the noise you would expect and none of the charm of the islands. It is the largest city in the Peloponnisos and third largest in Greece. We are headed for Athens and this was just a stop for the night. We barbqued chicken and enjoyed the sunset from the back of the boat.
Kefalonia and Underground Lakes
Our journey continues to the Ionian Island of Kefalonia. We slung our anchor out and backed up to the quay of a small little town built around the harbor. The first thing on our list of things to do is visit the caves. They were about 5km away from us. So we decided to rent a taxi. But since there were now 5 of us, (Rebecca’s friend Amanda joined us in Paxos) we wouldn’t all fit in a taxi. The fare was 35 euro to take us to the caves and back. Since we had to rent two taxi’s, the cost would have been 70 euro. That was a little more than we wanted to pay. After looking at renting a car, or scooters or taking the bus, I decided I would just ride my bike and meet them there. So all the girls got in the cab and I followed on my bike. The taxi driver was quite surprised when I showed up just a couple of minutes after he did. The distance was not that far and the road was pretty level.
The first stop was an amazing underground lake. It looked more like a movie set from Phantom of the Opera than a natural grotto. The water was crystal blue and the air felt refreshingly cool to my hot skin. You could see 90 feet to the bottom without any problem. They had us get into a row boat and a guide took us around the lake and into the cave. I asked him if he would sing to us, but he declined. He didn’t want to upset the fish.
The second cave is just up the road about 8km further. This cave was a big underground cathedral of stalagmites and stalactites in colorful hues of yellow, orange and creamy white. They looked like melting ice cream cones. The cave is a very big room that at times has been used for classical concerts. I can’t imagine the wonder and excitement of looking down a small opening and discovering such a wondrous site. I am sure I would vacillate between keeping such a place for myself and telling all of my friends, knowing that it would never be quite the same again.
The next day, we headed to a beautiful beach strung out along the coast. I feel like we are living in post cards most of the time over here. It is everything you want a Greek beach to look like. The water is warm and a turquoise color. Blue and white umbrellas all lined up like soldiers in formation dot the beach.
The first stop was an amazing underground lake. It looked more like a movie set from Phantom of the Opera than a natural grotto. The water was crystal blue and the air felt refreshingly cool to my hot skin. You could see 90 feet to the bottom without any problem. They had us get into a row boat and a guide took us around the lake and into the cave. I asked him if he would sing to us, but he declined. He didn’t want to upset the fish.
The second cave is just up the road about 8km further. This cave was a big underground cathedral of stalagmites and stalactites in colorful hues of yellow, orange and creamy white. They looked like melting ice cream cones. The cave is a very big room that at times has been used for classical concerts. I can’t imagine the wonder and excitement of looking down a small opening and discovering such a wondrous site. I am sure I would vacillate between keeping such a place for myself and telling all of my friends, knowing that it would never be quite the same again.
The next day, we headed to a beautiful beach strung out along the coast. I feel like we are living in post cards most of the time over here. It is everything you want a Greek beach to look like. The water is warm and a turquoise color. Blue and white umbrellas all lined up like soldiers in formation dot the beach.
Diving Through Liquid Sapphire in the Caves of Lefkas
Lefkas is a medium size town that was mostly leveled in an earthquake in 1953. They rebuilt the town stronger and better than ever. It still has a unique character to it. When they rebuilt, they used a lot of corrugated metal in the buildings. Strangely it works pretty well. There is a big downtown street that is just packed at night until about 1am. The Greeks like most of Europe stay home until about 7 or 8 pm. Then the whole family goes downtown and mingles with friends and neighbors. They walk among the shops eat gelato and sit in the cafes until about 1 in the morning.
The next day, we hop a bus to Dessimouon the other side of the island where we rented a boat to explore all the little islands scattered around the area. Across the channel is the island of Meganisi. We found a private beach where we snorkeled and swam and laid in the sun. Then we took the boat further south to these incredible caves. You can take the boat in some of them but most you have to swim into. When you dive into the water here, it is like you are diving through liquid sapphire. The water is crystal clear with a blue tint to it. Streaks of light shine down through making it even more magical. The first cave seemed to end at a wall. I climbed up the wall and looked over. The cave continued a little longer so we swam under the edge and into an opening on the other side. I felt like a kid exploring the wonders of some lost treasure. Light streamed in from the top and lit up this small circular pool of water. Some of the caves you would swim back as far as you dared until light and nerves ran out. It is a little creepy swimming into pure blackness. We took turns so that someone stayed with the little motorboat. It was all fun and games until Lindsay starts shrieking. She saw an eel in one of the caves and that was the end of exploring dark caves underwater. I tried to assure her that eels are very shy and hide from their predators because they are not very protected. Science does not matter when talking to a female that just saw an eel. I will make a note of that.
The next morning the girls headed to Milos, one of the top 10 beaches in Greece. I stayed on the boat to meet with an electrician to figure out why our windless was not working right. The windless raises and lowers the anchor. In Greece there are not always slime lines. So you have to put your anchor out and back into the quay then tie off. It works well unless other boats cross your anchor line, and then it can be a bit of a job untangling things. I have learned to just be patient and have the boats leave in the reverse order that they came. It seems to solve the problem. He fixed some cable and we were back in business.
The next day, we hop a bus to Dessimouon the other side of the island where we rented a boat to explore all the little islands scattered around the area. Across the channel is the island of Meganisi. We found a private beach where we snorkeled and swam and laid in the sun. Then we took the boat further south to these incredible caves. You can take the boat in some of them but most you have to swim into. When you dive into the water here, it is like you are diving through liquid sapphire. The water is crystal clear with a blue tint to it. Streaks of light shine down through making it even more magical. The first cave seemed to end at a wall. I climbed up the wall and looked over. The cave continued a little longer so we swam under the edge and into an opening on the other side. I felt like a kid exploring the wonders of some lost treasure. Light streamed in from the top and lit up this small circular pool of water. Some of the caves you would swim back as far as you dared until light and nerves ran out. It is a little creepy swimming into pure blackness. We took turns so that someone stayed with the little motorboat. It was all fun and games until Lindsay starts shrieking. She saw an eel in one of the caves and that was the end of exploring dark caves underwater. I tried to assure her that eels are very shy and hide from their predators because they are not very protected. Science does not matter when talking to a female that just saw an eel. I will make a note of that.
The next morning the girls headed to Milos, one of the top 10 beaches in Greece. I stayed on the boat to meet with an electrician to figure out why our windless was not working right. The windless raises and lowers the anchor. In Greece there are not always slime lines. So you have to put your anchor out and back into the quay then tie off. It works well unless other boats cross your anchor line, and then it can be a bit of a job untangling things. I have learned to just be patient and have the boats leave in the reverse order that they came. It seems to solve the problem. He fixed some cable and we were back in business.
Paxi
We left the big city life of Corfu and headed to the tranquil island of Paxi. Dotted with a few fishing villages, this little island has more than its share of captivating views. We pulled up to the quay of a small town with fishing roots that have long been grafted into tourist catering. It is an easy transition with the quaint village architecture dating back from centuries gone by. We rented scooters for 15 euro and headed to a couple remote villages on the other side of the island. It was the tucked away beaches and isolated beaches that drew us there. And we were rewarded with a day filled with both. The beaches in most of Europe is not the sandy beaches we are used to, but mostly small pebbles of smooth stones. Not quite as soft as sand, but it doesn’t get caught between your toes. Snorkeling right off shore, I see plenty of sea urchins and lots if fish that growing up I thought only lived in aquariums. If it sounds like we are having the time of our lives, well, we are.
Greece is the Word
After waiting for the winds and high waves to calm down a little, we headed to Greece. The trip across the open waters turned out to be uneventful. The water for the most part was smooth as glass and the wind only helped us for part of the way across until it dropped off to a whisper. We headed to Corfu, one of the bigger islands of the Ionian Sea.
Corfu, Kepkypa, Kerkyra, it’s all Greek to me
One of the first things you notice about Greek is you can’t figure out the name of anything. Even the Greeks can’t figure out the name of anything. First there is the Greek itself, which looks like fraternities gone wild. Just the Greek alphabet, which doesn’t resemble anything you are familiar with. You could be looking at the sign for Athens and have no idea what it is saying. On the maps and some street signage, there is a western alphabet spelling of the name. The trouble is, there is typically two or three different western spellings for the same name. Hence, Corfu is also Kepkypa, and also Kerkyra depending on what book you are reading, or what map you have or what some Greek chooses to call it. The old town is very charming with the ubiquitous tourist shops sprinkled with a few nice clothing stores and great restaurants. We ate at a bakery serving freshly made Greek dishes still warm from the oven. A couple of Euro will get you a great lunch. The town has not one castle but two, complete with mote and imposing towers. One is called the new castle because it dates back only to the 15th century. The old castle is a mix of crumbling impressive structures with some relative new university buildings thrown in. I wonder if they offer storming castle walls and archery as PE classes. The second day we rented a car and drove to a blue lagoon Brooks Shields would have been jealous over. Sheer cliffs that young guys could not resist plunging off of into crystal clear blue water that you can see forever in. We snorkeled and relaxed in the island sun. There are some places on this earth that seem to be carved out in the most breathtaking way. This was one of them. When the afternoon sun was more than enough for us, we went to another beach and rented kayaks and explored some deserted beaches and small caves. It does get hot here, but is usually remedied by a plunge into the ocean. We drove up to a near by town high on the hill. They would build up high to protect themselves from pirates in days gone by. This place does not get many visitors, and I am sure they looked at us in puzzlement as we digitized every falling down door and window in the village. We had our first authentic Greek dinner at a family restaurant. Mom and sister waited on us while dad cooked our meal. We felt more like we were invited into their home than their restaurant. It was incredible. I am already in love with Greek cuisine. We bought fresh produce with the locals off a truck and headed back to the boat. We stayed for three days.
Corfu, Kepkypa, Kerkyra, it’s all Greek to me
One of the first things you notice about Greek is you can’t figure out the name of anything. Even the Greeks can’t figure out the name of anything. First there is the Greek itself, which looks like fraternities gone wild. Just the Greek alphabet, which doesn’t resemble anything you are familiar with. You could be looking at the sign for Athens and have no idea what it is saying. On the maps and some street signage, there is a western alphabet spelling of the name. The trouble is, there is typically two or three different western spellings for the same name. Hence, Corfu is also Kepkypa, and also Kerkyra depending on what book you are reading, or what map you have or what some Greek chooses to call it. The old town is very charming with the ubiquitous tourist shops sprinkled with a few nice clothing stores and great restaurants. We ate at a bakery serving freshly made Greek dishes still warm from the oven. A couple of Euro will get you a great lunch. The town has not one castle but two, complete with mote and imposing towers. One is called the new castle because it dates back only to the 15th century. The old castle is a mix of crumbling impressive structures with some relative new university buildings thrown in. I wonder if they offer storming castle walls and archery as PE classes. The second day we rented a car and drove to a blue lagoon Brooks Shields would have been jealous over. Sheer cliffs that young guys could not resist plunging off of into crystal clear blue water that you can see forever in. We snorkeled and relaxed in the island sun. There are some places on this earth that seem to be carved out in the most breathtaking way. This was one of them. When the afternoon sun was more than enough for us, we went to another beach and rented kayaks and explored some deserted beaches and small caves. It does get hot here, but is usually remedied by a plunge into the ocean. We drove up to a near by town high on the hill. They would build up high to protect themselves from pirates in days gone by. This place does not get many visitors, and I am sure they looked at us in puzzlement as we digitized every falling down door and window in the village. We had our first authentic Greek dinner at a family restaurant. Mom and sister waited on us while dad cooked our meal. We felt more like we were invited into their home than their restaurant. It was incredible. I am already in love with Greek cuisine. We bought fresh produce with the locals off a truck and headed back to the boat. We stayed for three days.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Arrivederci
The winds have calmed down and the sea is a bit smoother. We check the Internet one last time to make sure the weather is in our favor and head out. Our sails are unfurrowed and our course is marked at 83° due east. We leave Italy and the site of land heading for the Ionian islands of Greece. I have grown to love Italy and the Italian people. When I think back upon these past couple of weeks all the sights we have seen are recalled like a photo album in my mind, but the people are recorded in my heart. They are very proud of their country, but are more loyal to their regions. They also have an incredible regard for their monuments of history, but don’t seem to mind spray painting graffiti on the walls of ancient ruins. They view foreigners as an invasion on this little piece of heaven, but welcome you into their hearts without reservation. There is a dichotomy about them that is both frustrating and endearing. Such kindness and love have been shown us all along the way. We could not have made it through Italy without their help and generosity.
Diamonds on the Soles of Your Shoes
Santa Maria de Leuca is at the very bottom of the heel of the boot of Italy. It is the closest port to our first Greek Island, Corfu. The town gets its name from the white limestone cliffs, the Greek Leucos meaning “white”. There is a monumental staircase by the harbor built by Mussolini as a ceremonial gateway into Italy. We plan on spending the night. 5 days later we are still here. The waves and wind have kicked up making our passage in the open sea a bit tenuous. We decide to error on the side of caution and wait until things calm down a little. It is not like it is a bad place to spend some time. We go to the market and restock up, head for the beach, and visit the grottos that are strung along the coast. I take a bike ride up the eastern coast along a beautiful road that clings to the side of a cliff on my left and blue ocean on my right. A string of resorts and quiet road make it one of those rides you don’t forget easily. One day we rent a car for 35 euros and head for the town of Lecce.
Lecce, in my opinion is way more beautiful than Pisa. It doesn’t have a famous leaning tower, but the baroque churches and meandering stone-paved roads leading you through quaint shops are way more impressive. The facades of the churches look like a mad man tried to put as much detail in every square inch only to be followed by an even more insane man who found even more places to carve detailed ornamentation. They look more like wedding cakes than stone buildings. The baroque style spills out onto the streets with intricately carved balconies and impressive entryways. The old gates to the city and strong castle walls are still protecting the area from bad developments. The town is much as it was a couple of centuries ago.
Lecce, in my opinion is way more beautiful than Pisa. It doesn’t have a famous leaning tower, but the baroque churches and meandering stone-paved roads leading you through quaint shops are way more impressive. The facades of the churches look like a mad man tried to put as much detail in every square inch only to be followed by an even more insane man who found even more places to carve detailed ornamentation. They look more like wedding cakes than stone buildings. The baroque style spills out onto the streets with intricately carved balconies and impressive entryways. The old gates to the city and strong castle walls are still protecting the area from bad developments. The town is much as it was a couple of centuries ago.
We Have Hit Bottom
After sailing through the Straits of Messina, we headed to the town of Gallipoli. No longer headed south, we are now sailing east along the bottom of the boot. The old town of Gallipoli is built on an island perched once again on high cliffs. These towns really knew how to defend themselves. The new part of Gallipoli is built on a peninsula that now connects to the Island. As we sailed into port, we were told it was a fishing port and no room for us. The Italians make a lot of noise and you think their decision is final. Just when they sense they have won, they relinquish and tell you to go dock over to the right. No fees just stay for free. We throw the lines through the old cast iron rings on the dock that have been securing boats to the harbor for centuries. Four teenage boys curious about our boat immediately come to pay us a visit. We invited them on board and they loved all the room. It didn’t take them long before they were doing back flips off the back and swimming under the main hull between the two pontoons. Big smiles and wide eyes, they welcome us to their home.
Once again, we are entranced by the narrow streets and Italian buildings aged with many winters until they take upon their facades a wonderful texture and subtle color tones of yellow and ochre. In front of the local church, teenage boys are smoking on the steps, slipping into a macho persona much older than their age. Girls flirt and hover hoping to be noticed. With the toll of a bell, they all gather in the courtyard for a youth meeting. Songs of redemption and swaying hands tell of a faith deeply rooted in tradition. The group is mostly girls, and it seems the guys that are there are more interested in picking up girls than being saved.
The next day we meet with the Raymarine dealer who comes and fixes our autopilot and depth gauge that was giving us problems. By lunch we are headed to our next port, Santa Maria de Leuca
Once again, we are entranced by the narrow streets and Italian buildings aged with many winters until they take upon their facades a wonderful texture and subtle color tones of yellow and ochre. In front of the local church, teenage boys are smoking on the steps, slipping into a macho persona much older than their age. Girls flirt and hover hoping to be noticed. With the toll of a bell, they all gather in the courtyard for a youth meeting. Songs of redemption and swaying hands tell of a faith deeply rooted in tradition. The group is mostly girls, and it seems the guys that are there are more interested in picking up girls than being saved.
The next day we meet with the Raymarine dealer who comes and fixes our autopilot and depth gauge that was giving us problems. By lunch we are headed to our next port, Santa Maria de Leuca
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Sirens and Mythical Monsters
The Strait of Messina separates Sicily from the mainland of Italy. It has been a place of mythical stories since the voyages of Odysseus. He records in the Odyssey of having encountered monsters and demons that could swallow whole ships and pluck sailors from unwary ships to devour. And if that isn’t enough to throw at you, there are the sirens that sing songs to lure you into their clutches. The men were counseled to stuff soft bees wax in their ears to block the sounds. But if the captain wanted to hear their seductive vocals, he was to be lashed to the mast. And if he asked to be released, the men were instructed to lash him even tighter. My girls thought that might be a good tradition to continue, but fortunately they are not very good with knots.
With this legacy, we were a little intimidated by what lay before us. We wanted to make sure the weather was mild and the seas relatively calm. All the turmoil in the strait is caused by two oceans coming together. The Tyrrhenian Sea is warmer and less salty then the Ionian. When they meet in the strait of Messina, big whirlpools and eddies can form.
With all of this historic bad press, we enter with everything prepared and on top alert. But quite frankly, we didn’t really see much to even notice. There was a strong current that helped push us through, but we failed to see even a minor demon grabbing at our boat. I guess it helps to have two powerful diesels backing up your sails. You can power right through the wrath of powerful gods.
With this legacy, we were a little intimidated by what lay before us. We wanted to make sure the weather was mild and the seas relatively calm. All the turmoil in the strait is caused by two oceans coming together. The Tyrrhenian Sea is warmer and less salty then the Ionian. When they meet in the strait of Messina, big whirlpools and eddies can form.
With all of this historic bad press, we enter with everything prepared and on top alert. But quite frankly, we didn’t really see much to even notice. There was a strong current that helped push us through, but we failed to see even a minor demon grabbing at our boat. I guess it helps to have two powerful diesels backing up your sails. You can power right through the wrath of powerful gods.
Southern Italy and Lucky Charms
I can’t get over how beautiful southern Italy is. It is like a charm bracelet with each little hamlet a unique charm to be collected and saved as a memory. I have hear how beautiful the Amalfi coast is, but I didn’t expect it to be this way all the way to the tip of the boot. Each town has a storybook quality, rising from sheer cliffs and crowned with a stone church built a century or two ago. After the hustle and bustle of Genoa, Pisa, Florence, Rome and Naples, it is a welcomed change.
We stayed a couple of days in Maratea, which is in the middle of three small fishing villages that are perched on the cliffs along the coastline. You hear so much about the northern Chinqua Terra, but these unique towns are every bit as spectacular but without the tourists and souvenir stands. The girls went to the beach and I rode my bike from town to town. It was a steep ride and quite a workout. I have to do more riding. I think I have lost some of my edge. And riding a bike is the absolutely best way to meander through these small towns. You connect with the landscape in a way you can never do from a car or train. I rode down to one of the beaches and hung out for a while at the local refreshment stand. Everyone is very welcoming and they don’t laugh very much over my communication skills. I think I laugh more than they do. It is pretty feeble, but all in good fun.
The next day we boated past two or three ports that I would love to throw my anchor around, but we are trying to at least pretend that we are making our way to Greece. I think I could spend a month or two just hanging out and enjoying what this region has to offer. Our next port is Tropea, another precious memento to look upon and treasure. It to is built on sheer cliffs with the harbor down below. You have to climb 200 steps to get to the city above, but it is worth every step. It is like walking into a living fairytale, or maybe I am just out of breath a little. I rationalize an extra gelato every time I climbed it. The main part of the old town is built like a cross with two main streets intersecting and anchoring the majority of the action. As is pretty typical of Europe the crowds start descending on the place a about 10 every night, and are there way after we leave at about midnight. You see families with little kids hanging out and enjoying the social mingling. I gotta wonder when these guys sleep. It doesn’t seem to matter much if it is a weeknight or the weekend.
We had planned to spend two days there, but ended up staying three. It was partly because of weather and partly because we couldn’t tear ourselves away from the place.
We stayed a couple of days in Maratea, which is in the middle of three small fishing villages that are perched on the cliffs along the coastline. You hear so much about the northern Chinqua Terra, but these unique towns are every bit as spectacular but without the tourists and souvenir stands. The girls went to the beach and I rode my bike from town to town. It was a steep ride and quite a workout. I have to do more riding. I think I have lost some of my edge. And riding a bike is the absolutely best way to meander through these small towns. You connect with the landscape in a way you can never do from a car or train. I rode down to one of the beaches and hung out for a while at the local refreshment stand. Everyone is very welcoming and they don’t laugh very much over my communication skills. I think I laugh more than they do. It is pretty feeble, but all in good fun.
The next day we boated past two or three ports that I would love to throw my anchor around, but we are trying to at least pretend that we are making our way to Greece. I think I could spend a month or two just hanging out and enjoying what this region has to offer. Our next port is Tropea, another precious memento to look upon and treasure. It to is built on sheer cliffs with the harbor down below. You have to climb 200 steps to get to the city above, but it is worth every step. It is like walking into a living fairytale, or maybe I am just out of breath a little. I rationalize an extra gelato every time I climbed it. The main part of the old town is built like a cross with two main streets intersecting and anchoring the majority of the action. As is pretty typical of Europe the crowds start descending on the place a about 10 every night, and are there way after we leave at about midnight. You see families with little kids hanging out and enjoying the social mingling. I gotta wonder when these guys sleep. It doesn’t seem to matter much if it is a weeknight or the weekend.
We had planned to spend two days there, but ended up staying three. It was partly because of weather and partly because we couldn’t tear ourselves away from the place.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
The long and short of Capri
Is this where those pants that are either to long or to short came from? Across the bay of Naples lies the small island of Capri. Once a small fishing village, little remains authentic there now. It has become a major tourist get away spot. A continuous stream of ferries arrives dumping tourists at its doorstep on a daily basis. The harbor is very small and very crowded. They had no room for us, so we tied up outside the harbor with two lines for safety on a buoy. There were several other boats tied up also. It looked like a great place to be. I rowed our little dingy into shore, dropped off the girls and then tied up to a small buoy right of shore. We had a difficult time figuring out the bus system and how to get to the famed blue grotto, but finally took the funicular up the hill and had a delightful lunch at one of the local restaurants. Our next move was to catch a bus down to the blue grotto. We looked down at the bay to check our boat out, and it was nowhere to be seen. With that small gut ache that you force down and deny it is there, I decide to go back to where the funicular was. I knew we could see the boat from there because we took pictures overlooking the bay. It was not there. That gut ache immediately blossomed into full panic attack as I went back to the girls and told them…it’s not there. We all made a mad dash back down the hill, willing with all our might for the funicular to some how speed up its steep decent. Trying to figure out how or even what to report to the authorities, I finally was directed to the Coast Guard. The guy looks up at me and says your boat has been towed to the harbor. It broke loose from the mooring and was headed for the rocks. I don’t know if it was damaged, but it is still afloat. There will be a fine for this. Come back when you have had a chance to inspect everything. He asks one of his sailors to take us to the boat. With dread, I follow sheepishly this all white uniform that has a walk all its own. Not fast, not slow, but very determined and precise. I did not know if I wanted him to hurry or to take his time and delay the bad news. When we finally got there, I inspect the boat, and not a scratch on it. I thank God and included all the Roman gods just incase that everything was ok. We go back to the coast guard office to fill out the report and find out what the fine would be. As it turns out, the buoy itself broke loose from its mooring with my lines still tied to it. As the guy is filling out the report, he realizes that it is my birthday. With a nervous laugh, I say I am not sure if it is a luck birthday or unlucky that the buoy broke loose. He looks up at me and says, well let’s make it your lucky day, I am not going to fine you. Good luck and have a great time in Capri. You gotta love the Italians. When you are most in trouble and down, they come to your aid. We spent the rest of the afternoon putting together big fruit baskets with lots of goodies in it to give to the coast guard and to thank the people that helped save our boat. We ended up staying in the harbor for a couple of nights before moving south once again.
What is all this stuff falling from the sky…cough…
Our next stop takes us to Pompeii and Herculaneum, two cities destroyed when Mt. Vesuvius blew it’s top around 79 ad. People were so caught by surprise that many were buried in soot and ash before they knew what hit them. While the tragedy wiped these two costal towns off the face of the earth, it left a historical record of ancient Rome unique in the history of the world. Pompeii is huge and excavation has been going on there since the 1700. Most of Herculaneum has been dug up just recently and there is about 3/4th of the city yet to be exhumed. Between the two, Herculaneum is much more intact and filled with a more complete picture. You can see how the interior walls were painted in most of the buildings. They are very beautiful with individually designed decoration in each room. No two rooms are painted the same. The bathhouses and some of the homes are very close to how they were left, frozen in time for centuries. Floors have intricate mosaic work that shows the artistic level of the civilization. With a little dusting shops could reopen for business without much trouble. They even found cupboards with the food still in them. And the people? So caught by surprise that they were still sleeping. The archeologist injected plaster into the cavities where the bodies were to create an exact cast of what the people looked like and to some extent how they dressed. The most different thing about them is they are pretty short, around 5’. I loved both cities. If you only have time to see one, I would recommend Herculean. While it is smaller, it is much more complete and takes longer to go through because of the detail that can be found there.
Roaming around Rome
We had a little difficulty finding a berth in Rome, but finally found space in the port close to the airport. Once again, the Italians threw us lines and helped us get situated. It turns out Luigi who manages the port became our best buddy, helping us find grocery stores, taking us to the laundry and making reservations for us at a nearby restaurant. It was all pretty incredible since he didn’t speak a lick of English. We are all getting pretty good at charades. Rebecca’s Spanish is helping a little as well. She seems to understand most things and is picking up the variances of Italian enough to get basic ideas across.
What can I say about Rome. It is a huge city with traffic everywhere. Even the sidewalks are not safe. It’s history is sprinkled throughout the streets. You begin to think nothing of a 2000 year old marble column lying around. The old Roman forum and city center is still there, in various stages of decay. There was certainly nothing like it anywhere else in the world during that time period. Grand plaza’s with historic fountains surprise you on a regular basis. Churches with works of all of the renassance painters are a regular site. It is hard to take it all in. But it kinda soaks under your skin and you walk away with a feeling of power and greatness that once was alive whose influence is still all around us today.
St. Peters is awe-inspiring. It is so huge. And the art is hanging in every nook and cranny. We climbed 544 steps to the very top of the dome through very narrow passages. It is not for the weak hearted or clastrophic, but the views are a great reward.
I have seen pictures of the Sistine chapel all my life, but I still was not prepared for it’s beauty. The depth and perspective is something that really doesn’t translate to a photograph. It is amazing how Michelangelo got such dimension. The figures look like they are reaching towards you. Not bad for a guy that claimed he was a sculptor not a painter.
What can I say about Rome. It is a huge city with traffic everywhere. Even the sidewalks are not safe. It’s history is sprinkled throughout the streets. You begin to think nothing of a 2000 year old marble column lying around. The old Roman forum and city center is still there, in various stages of decay. There was certainly nothing like it anywhere else in the world during that time period. Grand plaza’s with historic fountains surprise you on a regular basis. Churches with works of all of the renassance painters are a regular site. It is hard to take it all in. But it kinda soaks under your skin and you walk away with a feeling of power and greatness that once was alive whose influence is still all around us today.
St. Peters is awe-inspiring. It is so huge. And the art is hanging in every nook and cranny. We climbed 544 steps to the very top of the dome through very narrow passages. It is not for the weak hearted or clastrophic, but the views are a great reward.
I have seen pictures of the Sistine chapel all my life, but I still was not prepared for it’s beauty. The depth and perspective is something that really doesn’t translate to a photograph. It is amazing how Michelangelo got such dimension. The figures look like they are reaching towards you. Not bad for a guy that claimed he was a sculptor not a painter.
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