Arivaderche, Bon Jour

I have really grown to love Italy. It is a beautiful country that you could spend endless summers exploring and learning from. It has a rich history and beautiful towns from Greek occupation, Roman, medeavil, baroque, reniassance, and every time period to modern day. The people are passionate about life, love of family and friends. I am also anxious to come back to France. Can you tell I love it over here. The Europeans seem to have their pulse on life itself. They live for life and don’t let work get in the way. The American dream of a bigger house, newer car, and all the possessions you can pack in every nook and cranny seems to be uniquely American and has no place in their world. We sail into Nice in the late afternoon.

Portofino and Santa Margherita

We knew it would be tough to find a berth in Portofino, so we head to Santa Margherita which is the next town over in hopes of finding some place to hang out even for just a couple of hours. It would be nice to have lunch in Portofino and it is an easy bus ride between the two towns. So we pull into a space that looks like it might work. No one is around so we post a notice on the window of the boat and plan to take another note to the capitainerie letting them know that we will be back in a couple of hours. Just when we are about to leave, thus gruff guy comes up to us and tells us it is not possible to stay where we are for even a few minutes. We must leave. We are all very disappointed and are still hoping we can figure out some way to stay even for a few hours. So I go down to the capitainerie and pled my case. I tell the same guy we would really like to spend the night there, but if that is not possible could we please stay for a couple of hours. Like so many times in Italy, after the initial outburst of no possibility, he decides we can work something out. He tells us he is going out to lunch and to see him in an hour. So we order a nice seafood lunch at a nearby restaurant. After lunch I go back to the capitainerie and the guy tells me I can just stay where I am for the night. No problem. I don’t even have to move. So what went from it is impossible to stay for just a few minutes turns to an ok to stay the night there, no worries. Everything works out. We catch the bus and stroll around Portofino with its upscale shops dripping with jewelery and designer clothes. In the late afternoon we catch the bus back to Santa Margherita. We are standing at a square looking at a beautiful church, when this little girl with a mop of curly hair who I would guess to be about 7 years old is stomping her foot and crying out in Italian to her father that she is not too pleased with. Temper tamtrums are somehow much more charming in Italian, and I can tell another drama queen is developing her Italian passion for life. The next morning Victoria has to leave us to go back to Paris. We wish her a fond farewell in the early hours of morning and head for France.

The Five Jewels in Italy’s Crown

I love the Chinque Terra. And what is there not to love. Five quaint villages perched on the top of sheer cliffs painted with a patine of time that makes them look like they were aged to perfection just for us. We walked between the first three villages along the trail that clings to the side of the cliffs like a barnacle to the side of a boat. The weather is still warm during the day, and the light breeze washing over us from the sea keeps us from overheating during our walk. For lunch we stop at a restaurant that has taken over most of a small plaza in the third little village. It appears that if you want to open a restaurant in Europe, all you need is a kitchen. You can then start taking real estate for the tables wherever they fit. Eventually you have enough tables strewned out onto sidewalks and plazas to run a profitable restaurant. In the afternoon we headed to the beach for a swim in the ocean before going on to the fourth village. By then it is time for gelatio and sitting under a colorful umbrella table watching the sun cast a golden warmth to the sides of the buildings. The sky turns ablaze of oranges yellows and purples and the ocean shimmers in response. Kids are drawing their last pictures in the sand and a little kitten looks up to our table hoping for one last scrap. Guess it is time to catch the train back to La Spezia where we berthed our boat.

Where is That Little Bonaparte.

Elba is about a 4-hour sail and we get there a little before 1pm. There is a sign on the gas station that tells us it does not open until 3:30. Not a surprise, Italy is known for not working much between 1 and 4. So we decide to break out lunch and kick back on the cockpit of the boat. We dine on a nice tossed salad, bar-b-qued chicken and calamari marinated in a sauce made from their ink that Victoria brought from Spain. Cheese and pears for desert complete the meal. If it sounds delicious, well it was. As we are eating, someone notices the sign says they do not reopen on Saturday during the off-season, so we are stuck there without being able to get any fuel. Well I guess we will worry about that tomorrow.

The town is like a lot of the small ports we have been in. Three story pastel buildings with shops and restaurants on the bottom floor surround the marina. Stone streets and marble curbs wander in some unplanned course. A brightly painted yellow church with its bell tower dominant the skyline and its ringing bells bind the community together. Teenage boys maraud around on their bikes. Shop keepers picking out your fruit for you so that you will not take their favorite peaches. And then of course the gellatoteria tempting us with my favorite “fruita de bosco” sorbets. It is a mixture of blackberries, raspberries and gooseberries and literally means fruit of the forest. So as I savor its taste, I envision children skipping through the forest harvesting wild berries all for my indulgence.

In the afternoon, Peter, Mike’s son and Afton, his girlfriend joins us. They have been traveling around Europe on Eurorail passes for the past two months. The boat is a welcome change from jostling trains and toting backpacks. We are glad to have them along. That evening, Mike treats us all do dinner at a local restaurant where we dine on local swordfish, octopus salad, pasta, grilled vegetables and steak. Early the next morning, we head to La Spezia and the Chinque Terra.

Spectacular Scenery of Siena

The next day we head to Siena, which was about 2 hours away from the port. Once the capital rival to Florence, Siena is Italy’s most spectacular medieval town. It was at its peak power between 1260 and 1380 before Florence subdued it through military force and the black plague wiped out a third of its population. The combination of those events froze the town’s population and acted like a brine to pickle it as it sat for centuries uninfluenced by the progress of time. The population of 60,000 is about the same as it was during its peak power. The heart of the city is the public piazza. Shaped like a fan that culminates at a spectacular town hall complete with imposing tower. And if the Piazza del Campo is the heart of the city, the Duomo is the soul. This church rivals St. Peters in Rome both in its scope and beauty. If they had finished the final planned naïve, it would have been the biggest Christian church in the world. But somehow loosing a third of the population from the plague and ruling authority to Florence managed to kill that idea. I actually found it more beautiful and more impressive than St. Peters. Its sculpted outside is done in the same black and white striped marble that Florence is famous for. Inside, the marble floors are intricately inlaid with multiple colors to depict various scenes. I have never seen such beautiful floors anywhere. The floors alone are well worth the visit. But the grandeur of the cathedral continues up the walls that include sculptures by Michelangelo and paintings by Donatello and culminate in a spectacularly painted ceiling. The library displays illuminated manuscripts done in gold leaf and brilliant colors painted by monks who dedicated their lives to this art. And the frescos on the walls are just as dazzling. The colors are brilliant colors. We are told that the room was closed to everyone for centuries and the unrestored frescos are as they were painted, I have seen a lot of cathedrals since I have been over here, and this one is at the top of the list of magnificence and beauty.

The next morning, we once again peek our bow out of the harbor in hopes of calmer seas. Sure enough, the waves are just a shadow of their former selves. So on to Elba we go.

Mike, Jose and Victoria

My good friends Mike and Jose join me on Monday. They bring along with them Victoria, a good friend of theirs. I had met Victoria at a dinner party at Mike and Jose’s last year. They told her of the adventure they were embarking on, and talked her into coming along as well. Victoria is originally from Spain, but her family fled the Spanish revolution and moved to France. She was actually born on the way to France during their escape. So now she splits her time between the Bay Area, Spain and France. It is fun having her along, and the fact that she speaks Spanish, French and English helps us muddle our way through the Italian language. Tuesday morning, we set sail to Elba, the island off the coast of Italy where Napoleon was sent when he lost power. He was there for nine months before staging the last short comeback. The sea is a bit rough with high waves. After rolling around for about 6 hours, we decide to take a detour to Port Ercole. The port proves to be a thoroughly likable fishing port that has managed to retain much of its old fishing village charm. There is no room at the guest docks, but we manage to dock at the pier. And though there is no electricity or water, it is still a great place to moor. That afternoon we wander through the streets of this sleepy village. Not much is opened, but the people of the town are friendly. We end up cooking dinner on the boat that night. The next day, we head out to Elba again. But as we peek our bow out of the protective bay, the waves prove to be just as wild as the day before. So we decide to just relax and spend another day in port. This time we dock at Marina Cala di Galera. It is right next to Port Ercole, and has more space at their guest docks. We are able to connect with power and water. We decide to rent a car and go inland and explore some of the nearby cities. It takes us most of the day to arrange for a car rental, but in the afternoon we find ourselves on the road to Pitigliano.

Pitigliano is a medieval town spectacularly situated high above a deep raven. As we approached the city, there was rain coming down and a whiff of mist created a magical kingdom feel to the whole place. The rock buildings of the town were sculpted from the same rock as the cliff. Without the windows in the buildings, it would have been difficult to tell where the cliff ended and the buildings started. It starts to rain for the first time since I started this trip. I guess it is getting that time of year. We dodge the rain through the maze of narrow streets that lead us to a small Jewish ghetto settled in the 17th century by Jews fleeing catholic persecution. Most of the ghetto consisted of a network of caves dug into the rock to form the center of their village. Bakery, synagogue, wine cellar, a place they dyed cloth and other rooms are all carved out of the solid rock. The little area thrived until WWII and Hitler’s madness decimated the population. Above the Jewish quarters, the medieval town still stands like a time capsule from a different era. The aqueduct built in 1545 still is used to bring water to the residents. It is quite amazing how little the town has changed since its original founding. If you took away the cars and changed the clothing, there would be little difference from a couple of centuries ago. Despite the rain, we love it there, and are more than glad for the rough seas that set us on this exploratory course.

Roaming Around Rome

It feels like de javue all over again. We decide to head back to the port I stayed at last time I was in Rome, port Fumicino. Luigi welcomes us and squeezes us in a port that looks way too full. It is one of the few ports that there always seems room for just one more. He remembers my daughters and me from this summer. Of course, I remember all of his kindness to us.

Since I saw all of the star attractions just a couple of months ago, and Kip have recently been to Rome, we decide to skip the tourist destinations this time around. We head to the beach for the day and have a delightful time kicking back and doing what Romans do. As always it is quite the adventure getting around town. This time it involved catching a bus, then a train and then a taxi to the beach. Coming back we found the bus back to the train station. Italy has nice sandy beaches and the sea is still quite warm. The weather has cooled a bit from the blistering days of summer, but they are still quite delightful. The next day we spent a day wandering around the city trying to solve my Internet problems. It proved to still be elusive for us to be able to connect to the Internet on the boat easily. I could get a connection in Italy, but not in France or Spain without paying roaming charges. So I have to wait a little longer. On Sunday, Kip says his last goodbyes and heads back home.