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.

My Slant on Pisa

When visiting a foreign country, it is thrilling to see the monuments of past glory days. Architectural feats executed so many hundreds of years ago are a marvel to behold. But what tugs at your heart is the people themselves. And so it will always be when I remember Pisa. We chose to stay at the closest port to the town of Pisa. Pisa is slightly inland, but there is a river from the ocean that goes a couple of miles from the town. It is a bit of a challenge. Very shallow, in some places just a couple of meters deep. The other challenge is the fishing nets. The Italians strung high cables across the river. They then have huge fishing nets on a frame that look a little like upside down umbrella’s. The nets slide along the cable and drop in the river to catch the fish. The trouble is, the cables almost caught my mast as well. When we passed under the first set of cables, it was inches away from my VHF antenna. There is not really any organized harbor on the river. It is more like rambling docks owned by a dozen different people. All of them looked completely full. But luck would have it, we found just one space and pulled in. It was lunchtime and we decided to make a quick meal of baguettes, cheese and chicken. While we were eating, a local guy came up to us. He didn’t speak much English, but he did better with Spanish. So we had Rebecca talk to him. It turns out he spent a couple of years in Brazil and spoke Portuguese. Close enough. He told us, that the spot was not vacant. The owner was just out sailing and would be back in an hour or so. Seems like our luck was a bit short. But then this guy started making calls to all of these marinas up and down the river. Then he told Rebecca and me to get in his car and we could go talk to a few of the owners. He drove us to several marinas, but no luck. We thought we might have to just anchor out in the river and were resigned to do just that. Then his friend called and told us we could stay up the river a bit further. So the guy tells us he will go with us on our boat and help us negotiate the deepest part of the river. As it turned out, the water lever, while very shallow was not the problem. There were two more sets of cables across the river. Going up further, they just got lower. We nudged up next to them hoping it would not hit my wind gauges. The mast cleared them by literally inches. The VHF antenna bent back as we tenderly passed beneath. He showed us the marina and the empty spot. It looked like we were home free. Then the trouble began. As I passed by one of the docked sailboats, my propeller caught his slime line and wrapped up tight enough to cut the engine. Because the river was so shallow, the lines were just below the water surface even at quite a distance from the boats. Not only was I caught, but also I didn’t have much control as we slowly slid toward the docked boats, their anchors at the bow of the boats looking like angry teeth ready to rip the side of my hull. The Italians sprang into action, going to the bows of the boats and making sure my boat was pushed off, avoiding any damage to the boat. We managed to get a line on the left side of my boat, but the other side was still tangled. I ended up getting a mask and flippers on and going down to try and release it from the prop. It was very tightly wrapped around. So the owner of the marina gave me his knife and I cut the rope free. Once it was cut, with a little effort, I managed to free it. The four guys that were on the dock all helped to secure the boat. I was relieved that everything worked out ok, but also overwhelmed with the kindness of these strangers. I think there is nothing more charitable then helping a complete stranger. It shows a side of humanity that we sometimes are not sure is still there. The guy that drove us all over just to help us find a spot, and these other guys that were willing to do what ever they could to save us from a very difficult situation. When we were ready to leave, I gave the owner of the marina a pie that we picked up in Pisa, and in simple English and broken Italian, thanked him and his friends for helping us. Just as we were shoving off, he came out with a bottle of wine to wish us well on our journey. I didn’t have the heart to tell him we don’t drink wine, but thanked him graciously and was again overcome with a grateful heart. It was worth more than all the monuments and cathedrals we saw during our stay there. No matter how grand a cathedral is, the outreach of love is always more grand. Grazie.

Oh yeah, Pisa and Florence.
For the most part Pisa is just a big city where people make a living and enjoy life. But hidden amongst all the hustle and bustle of the city is this little oasis that is so beautifully designed it takes your breath away. The infamous leaning tower, the grand baptistery and an even more monumental church anchor a grand plaza making it one of the most beautiful spots we have visited. And wow is that tower leaning. It looks like it is defying the laws of gravity. It started to lean even before it was completed in 1372. The architects tried to balance out the lean but with no avail. Not only does the tower lean, but the baptistery and church also lean. I guess this was just not the best place to build. Different attempts have been tried to stop the leaning. For a while big cables attached to 600 tons of lead weights buried in the ground were used, but it continued to get progressively worse. A couple of years ago, they ended up taking out some of the dirt from the high side and have managed to stabilize the structure for the time being.

Pisa is mostly a university town, and has been since the time of Galileo. Lots of marauding scooters and bikes barreling down the busy narrow streets. Great shopping and great people watching.

The next morning, we caught an early train and headed to Florence, which is about an hour and a half away. Florence can only be described in terms of magnificent, astounding, monumental, and impressive. Buildings with intricate designs adorned with grand sculpture are everywhere. And at the center of it all is Michelangelo’s masterpiece, David. We went to the Uffizi gallery, which houses the greatest collection of Italian paintings anywhere in the world. Giotto, DaVinci, Raphael, Rubens, Titian and Michelangelo are all there. In fact it holds the only surviving easel painting Michelangelo ever did. The wait to get in is long, and the collection massive, but all well worth making your way to this art Mecca. I felt like I was walking through the pages of my art history books. We all loved it.

The other not to be missed museum is Accademia, which houses the infamous David. Besides this masterpiece are a room full of works Michelangelo did in his later years. They are a series of sculptures that are still immerging from the stone. The part that is immerged is very finished and very beautiful, while the rest of the form is still waiting to be released. I find these very exciting pieces. I personally think by not completely finishing the piece you get a sense that Michelangelo was not so much sculpting as he was releasing the figure that was trapped in the block of marble. If you love art, Florence is its birthplace.

Cinque Terra – How Cute Can You Get

The sea is quite rough today. We are skirting the end of a small storm. The rain is just past us, but the winds and rough sea is left behind. Along the sheer cliffs hang the five hamlets known collectively as the Cinque Terra tenaciously gripping the rugged coast. We head for the small port of Vernazza, but as we approach the sea is pushing us into a very small and very shallow port. So following the error on the side of safety rule, at the last minute, we thrust the two Yanmar engines into reverse and hightail it to La Spezia. It proved to be a very prudent idea. When we looked over the harbor the next day, it was little more than a shelter for small fishing boats. We could have eaten up 3 or 4 of them just tying to a berth.

La Spezia turns out to be an ideal home base to view the chain of villages from. We set up camp in the old harbor and find ourselves surrounded with great shopping and a short walk to the train station.

The Cinque Terra is a national park. You can jump on the train and get a day pass to hike between all five villages for about 7.50 euro. The next morning, after church, we get our most comfortable walking shoes on and start our pilgrimage. The trail between the towns is really spectacular. We are walking right on the cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean. The hike is not for the faint of heart however. Lots of stairs and steep climbs make it so most people bail after the first couple of towns. We continue all the way to the fourth in the chain before running out of time and steam. Somehow just taking a break, eating the local cusine seems like a delightful way to finish off the daylight. Not wanting to end this experience, we go back the next day and spend most of it lying on the beach and swimming in the warm waters of the sea. It is our most kickback relaxing day of our trip and we vow to wedge a few more down days into our full itinerary.

A Little Surprise Tucked Away

It is kind of like finding the creamy filling in a Twinky for the very first time, unexpected, and delightful. We decided to have lunch at Portafino on the way to the Cinque Terra. What a beautiful town tucked away in a small harbor port. This quaint fishing village has little to do with fishing these days. It is more like a town that has been designed by a post card company. Very expensive and very exclusive. The harbor was crowded, but with a little luck we slip into a vacated spot by a just leaving sailboat. We are so pleased with our Dorris Day parking space. (A term referring to how in the movies, Dorris Day never had to look for a parking space. There was always one that just appeared right in front of where she wanted to go.)

Strolling around the marina, we decide on a small restaurant that gives us fresh air seating with a beautiful view of the bay. While we are ordering, a very authoritative man comes up to our table and asks if the Etesian is our boat. Turns out that this is a very private port and you can’t just tie up when a place opens up. He tells us to enjoy our lunch but to come see him at his office when we are done. Our waiter looks at us like we may be ordering our last meal. We try to enjoy the good cuisine, but kind of feel like a schoolboy about to meet some unknown fate at the principal’s office. After lunch we sheepishly walk over to the port office. In the end, all they wanted is money, so we throw 50 euro at them and they allow us to stay for a couple of hours amongst the “beautiful people”.

The shops are colorful and inviting. We stroll around recording the experience with clicks of our cameras. Rumors float around that Rod Stewart is there, but we see no site of him. There is a jewel box church perched on the hill. We follow the brick and cobblestone path partly for a closer view of the church and partly for a more commanding view of the village. There is a marble walled cemetery in the churchyard that records lives of those that once lived in this small port long before it became a tourist destination. Most marbled headstones have small black and white portraits to mark their lives. Maybe it is the same need to connect that I felt in Genoa that draws me to those that went before us.

The World Looks Pretty Flat From Here

There is something connecting about looking out on the same horizon that Christopher Columbus gazed upon over 500 years ago, dreaming of treasures and adventure. We too are seeking treasures and adventure. The kind we will remember for the rest of our lives. Perhaps man has not changed much over the centuries. Genoa is a town of trade and commerce. Tucked away amid the modern town is a not too dissimilar city of long ago. There still stands the original gate and part of the city wall. Columbus’s humble home is a few paces away. Great cathedrals scatter like diamonds among the old part of town. One church claims to house the plate that John the Baptist’s head was presented to Salome on. That same church also claims to have one of the plates used in the last supper. I guess they were particularly good at negotiating at those relic yard sales a couple of thousand years ago. Whether it is true or not, it all adds to the mystique of the city. There is great contrast to the expansive plaza’s big enough for a rock concert, and narrow winding streets that you can almost touch from side to side. Italian architecture has a grandeur befitting this once great empire. Balconies, magnificent entrances, and faux painting of more detailed stonework that really isn’t there adorn a lot of the villas. Laundry is commonly hung out to dry in the Tuscany sun. There is a passion that pulsates through the crowded streets. You cannot just have a conversation with your friends. Hand gestures and faces inches apart are a part of the fabric that all weaves together to be a part of this Italian tapestry. We stayed for two days. Rebecca, my oldest daughter joined us and Malorie, my youngest daughter caught the plane to go back home. It was hard to see Malorie go. I wanted to share so much more of this European adventure with her. But work and commitments call.

Off to Genoa, Home of Christopher Columbus

We sailed out of Monaco harbor and headed to Italy. I just have to say as we leave France that I will always have a part it carried in my heart. The people were so kind, the southern French light so magical and the towns and cities so elegant and charming. I know I will be back.

We stayed the night in a very small port about an hour into Italy. It proved to be a lucky choice. While the harbor did not have much appeal, it did have a Lagoon dealer. He arranged for us to have our 50-hour checkup and oil change on my engines and helped me with some electronic equipment problems I was having. We ended getting a late start to Genoa, but I was glad to get these things taken care of. Today did bring a first on our navigation skills. Because we crossed the Gulf of Genoa, we lost sight of all land for a couple of hours before making it into port. The magic of GPS. It tells you where you are going even