Grand Tour of Italy
Storyteller
Sun 27 May 2007 17:32
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Thanks in part to a broken fridge, the past two
weeks has been spent in a whirlwind tour of coastal Italy. After four
days in the totally tourist-free areas of Basilicata, we've been travelling
north at a fairly rapid pace so that we are now on the island of Elba whose
claim to fame was that Napoleon spent time here in exile. It has been
fascinating seeing the country change from the generally poor and sleepy South
(the Mezzogiorno-- the 'afternoon') to the distinctly yuppy North of
Italy. The food has changed too, with fewer delicious cakes, which is
probably a good thing. And as some English guys on a yacht said, the closer
you get to London, the more expensive things become. At Positano we were charged
70 euros just to anchor off the town, although the guys did provide us with a
shuttle service to and from the shore.
And in Naples a night in a marina cost 150 euros,
in a distinctly seedy part of town.
From Maratea we went to Agropolis, close to
Paestum, one of the most intact ancient Greek sites in the world. We were
quite knocked out when we came across the the three stunning temples
standing in a field of bright red poppies. Best of all, the day we
visited, there were no coachloads of tourists-- only a few school
groups with vivacious young teachers who really got the kids interested. As in
many Italian towns, the train station at Agropolis was several kilometres from
the town centre--but when I asked some old chaps where the station was, one of
them went and got his car and drove us there. Having a bit of Italian has made a
huge difference, as in many places English has not been
spoken.
From Agrigento, we went to Salerno, a distinctly
non -tourist town that is just starting to see the beginnings of gentrification.
There was certainly nothing gentrified about the marina which was an
assortment of broken down pontoons in the middle of a giant construction site in
the local commercial port. As I picked up the ancient, smelly, mooring
lines horrid substances oozed out of the marine life cling to the lines, some of
it squirting straight into my mouth. They even cut through the gloves I wear,
but the rapid application of dettol prevented any life- threatening infection.
Despite the grotty harbour, Salerno is an interesting town, and a great
base for exploring Paestum to the south, and the Amalfi peninsula to the north.
With our friends, Ray and Helen, we took the ferry to Positano where we stayed
the night. In spite of the tourists, Positano is a charming town, and
well worth visiting.
During this period the Louis Vuitton Cup semi
finals have been on between Luna Rossa, the Italian boat and Oracle, and Team NZ
versus Spain. Every time we come into a port, the first thing anyone says is
'Luna Rossa', and we've spent many happy hours in bars watching the races
with the locals.
In Salerno, my sister in law, Pam Neville, joined
us, and she will now do a busman's holiday account
of our travels from Salerno up to Elba, via Capri,
the Bay of Naples, and Rome, where we met my nieces Cleo and Sophie. The gals
have certainly added a touch of spice to proceedings, if not class.( I keep
telling Sophie I won't be seen with her in public if she persists in buying the
Daily Mirror.)
Pam here... My friend Lyn Carthew and I enjoyed
Salerno with its narrow lanes of shops selling good quality clothing, bags and
shoes at non-tourist prices. We had a long but, in hindsight, informative day
negotiating an Italian train strike which turned into a bus strike as well
during a day trip to Paestum. In pouring rain, we asked the information
office how to get back to Rome and were told: "Pray!" I guess the prayers worked
as we finally made it back by local bus.
We sailed the Amalfi coast, anchored
off Positano (but still had to pay 70 euro for the privilege!), and visited
the beautiful hill top town of Ravello where they obligingly staged a funeral in
the cathedral as we sit in the piazza drinking expensive coffee.(18 euros for 3
coffees and pastries.) Shutters come down over cafes and souvenir shops,
and life stands still as the priest chants the coffin to the hearse, and it
moves off followed by a line of black clad mourners. Check out the Villa Citrone
at Ravello if you have money to spare and want a very special hotel
experience.
Naples, we loved! Despite being crime, grafitti and
rubbish-ridden (it was in the midst of a rubbish collectors'strike) it has a
slightly crazed charm and vitality. With Mt Vesuvius threatening to blow up
and smother them at any time, the locals live for the day. Healthy diet is
not a consideration - the local speciality is deep-fried pizza. We had a
marvellous day eating pizza (it was invented in Naples), drinking coffee and
eating gelati in between riding an open top bus between the washing lines and
daily life of the historic centre of Naples. Lasting images: the elderly north
Italian visitor in shorts and braces singing lustily to the Neopolitan music
piped through the bus; and the motor scooters which sometimes carry mum,
dad and the kids as well as the groceries and the family dog. Two young
women on one scooter each clutched a toddler in one hand, a cigarette in the
other, and somehow managed to drive and dodge cars and pedestrians. Said Sue:
"The only surprise was that they weren't talking on the phone as
well."
The island of Procida, an hour away, was an oasis
of calm. Pastel coloured houses around pretty harbours and a slow pace.
Roy and Helen stayed there at the beautiful La Casa sul Mare (www.lacasasulmar.it) for less than
100 euros a night. On the way we sail past Capri (the most beautiful
island in the world, according to somebody famous) and marvel at its beautiful
silhouette from the sea, but are happy to stop at
its smaller, quieter and lesser known sibling, Procida, where we watch a DVD of
Il Postino, The Postman, a movie which was filmed there.
Picked up the daughters in Rome where the new
tourist marina is fortuitously close to Ostia Antica, one of the larger and more
complete sites of Roman ruins. The bottom half of most buildings are
intact because they were buried in silt from the Tiber for
centuries.
Next stop, Isola di Giglio. The Island of Gigolos,
according to the girls, and there were certainly some well honed bodies to gaze
upon. This is part of a marine reserve around the islands off Tuscany and
popular with diving tourists who come to look, not fish. A waterfront seafood
restaurant hosted John, Sue, Pam, Cleo and Sophie ... and group of about 20 men
from Siena enjoying a big night out. The singing was wonderful, though it
did degenerate as the evening went on and it was as well we didn't understand
the lyrics.
From the gigilos to the island of Elba, from whence
I now write. Here we discover a little known fact: this year is the
50th birthday of the Fiat 500, commonly called the Bambina, and several hundred
proud owners and their cars have descended on Elba to celebrate. A couple of
Bambino break down on the wharf where we are moored, prompting John to
remember that Fiat stands for Fix It Again Tony. Tomorrow we will
visit Napoleon's house, where he lived in exile for a year or two before
escaping back to France. "I can't imagine why Napoleon ever left," said
Rod Heikel in the Pilot book he writes for sailors in the Med. Elba is
certainly worth a visit, though apparently it's bedlam in July and August. From
here, the girls and I catch a ferry to the Tuscan mainland, then bus and train
to Rome and fly to London, where C and S live.
It's been wonderful! We're very lucky to have
a couple of sailors in the family whose hospitality, as many of you already
know, is more than generous. Thanks Sue and John!
Hello, Sophie here. Just a few points to add.
Firstly, Sue's horror at my reading the Mirror is quite irrational, anyone would
think I had bought the latest Playboy or National Front magazine by her
reaction! I'm trying to convince her that there's nothing wrong with a spot
of tabloid-reading on holiday, but she's deterimined to hold out for
The Times or the Herald Tribune. John, who also claims to have no
interest in low-brow reading materials, has been quite engrossed by the
copy of celeb rag Closer magazine (which I happen to write for)... Cleo and I
are planning to organise a subscription for them as thanks for the trip.
haha.
Secondly, Pam failed to mention a very amusing
episode involving a Borat-style translation on the night at the restaurant with
20 male revellers. After they had eaten, the waiter brought out the most
intriguing receptacle any of us had ever laid eyes on. The jug came complete
with male genitalia, with a you-know-what for a spout. As the blokes took turns
drinking from it, the group chanted, and our very helpful waiter tried to
translate for Pam... She didn't seem to grasp what was quite obvious but the
earnest waiter went to great lengths to explain with diagrams and spelling out
words that can not be repeated in this family-friendly forum.
Anyhoo, it's been another marvellous trip aboard
Storyteller. Looking forward to the next one at Christmas in the
Caribbean.
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