Marina de Pisa

Altea
Wed 20 Aug 2014 07:24
43:42:94N 10:13:84E

8 August 2014

Ironically Marina de Pisa did not used to have a marina. However, one was completed earlier this year, carved out of an old Fiat factory, and we arrived after sailing and motoring the 35 miles or so. The last few miles were over a flat plain, no doubt formed by the outflow of the Arno river, which is less than 20m deep a long way out to sea. As we approached there was a brown semicircle of muddy water coming from the mouth of the river, with a knife edge junction between it and the clear green sea; the two bodies of water refusing to mix.

We called up on the vhf to announce our arrival and to ask to be taken to a berth. It is lunch time and it is closed. We must wait until 16:00. A local fisherman manages to wrap his line round us as we wait at anchor, and the two or three fish on his line swim under the boat in a last gasp bid for survival. No harm is done, and the line is unravelled. The fish lose their battle for freedom.

The marina is very new, very spacious and ideal for what we want. We moor nose in with no problem, and after a wash and brush up we go into town. We are only a short walk to L's old family villa, and then onto the old favourite haunt of Cliff's pizza restaurant where we have a table near the centre of the main road, which is closed to traffic in the evenings.

As we are having our dinner, there was a coincidence that I could hardly believe, but of which I am 100% sure. A family of buskers came past who we had seen in the square at La Caruna in Spain last year. The evil, charmless father tapped a few times on a tambourine to accompany his now slightly older and fatter, but equally talentless, son on the saxophone. Their backing music was played on a loud speaker on a hand trolley. After those few taps on the tambourine, he toured the audience thrusting the tambourine out for the reward he wanted for "la musica". L was kind enough to dig in her purse for a few coins, but regretted it after he shook his head to indicate that he wanted more. I remember disliking him the first time, and my opinion has not changed in the intervening 12 months and 2000 miles. I am a bit of a sucker for people playing music in the street, but there was no way I was giving this broken nosed villain a penny.

We went to L & S's old favourite icecream shop for pudding, which was excellent. The Italian families continued to promenade up and down the road and along past the marina. It was a great place to people watch.

The next day we were off to Pisa, to start the cultural part of our journey.