Charming Southern Italy

Every since my first visit to Southern Italy, I have been charmed to it like a snake dancer in a trance. It is so beautiful with quaint fishing villages and deep blue oceans that turn emerald green when the sand underneath rises close to the surface. It is by far the most under rated part of both Italy and maybe even Europe. Americans just don’t go to Southern Italy much past the Amalfi coast. Yet nestles on the high sheer cliffs are towns that have been surviving the elements of weather and raids of pirate ships for centuries. The pirates are no longer there, and the reason for the protective sheer cliffs have long since past, but the beauty still remains. If you have read my past blogs you know that I am in love with Tropea where the ancient town sees to morph from the cliffs below into a charming town where midnight only means the night has just begun.

We sailed through the Straits of Messina where Sicily and the mainland come so close together they almost kiss. The seas are shoved together causing confused seas that have given us ancient legends of monsters and sirens to explain how many ships of yore sunk to the bottom with their unlucky crew going down with them. You still have to respect the seas but the ruthless danger is overcome by power engines and efficient sails. We anchored out right off the coast of Sicily and woke up the next morning to favorable winds that winged us across and to the strange port of Roccella.

Roccella is a new port build a couple years ago with EU money, but never managed. It feels like the wild west. People just come in and find a spot for themselves and stay as long as they want. No fees are collected and no electricity or fuel is available. The town that we never made it to is a ways away. We just spent the night and continued on to our next port along the sole of the Italian boot.

Almost as strange is the port of Crotone. I remember it from our very first visit there as a port that loves amateur singing. I thought then that they were having a special festival or something. As it turns out, it seems to be a nightly event that lasts all summer long. The music blares across the water as out of key lyrics are spewed forth. You would think it was over indulgent parents that are so taken with their children’s voices that they are willing to overlook the fact that they can’t sing. Except it is both the parents and the children that are indulged. As the music drones on until past 2 in the morning, you wonder if anyone in that town can sing at all. We listened to a rock band playing cover songs. The musicians actually were quite good. They had a great guitar and keyboard player. Then their singer steps up to the mike and started blaring out the lyrics. Sorry, he couldn’t sing on key either. It must be that the musical gene pool never arrived at this place.

Our last port in Italy is Santa Maria de Leuca. It is a port right at the heel of the boot of Italy. The sail from there to the island of Corfu takes most of the day. We however lucked out and had strong winds all day long that allowed us to sail faster than if we would have had to motor. We got there in record time. There is nothing quite like sailing under the power of the wind. You feel like nature has grasped you in her arms and giving you just what you need to transport you to the next port. The sheets are stiff. The boat seemingly pulsing with the waves to do what it was born to do. It is not quite beam me up Scotty spectacular, but a good substitute until we can obtain molecular travel.