Category: Ports of Call (Page 18 of 41)

Lipari was only a few miles from Vulcano, but we decided to use it as a rest day between Vulcano and Stromboli. The anchorage was busy, but we knew it would clear out at the end of the day when all the little boats go home.

Unfortunately just then, 10 boats from the same charter company came flying into the anchorage. Luckily they all headed to one end, and actually kept to themselves and were quiet for the night, so we were able to relax and enjoy the evening. I am certain that this quiet was also appreciated by Atila- a hermit who built a ramshackle house on the beach and has lived there for over twenty years.

All the wind of the previous week had died down, leaving us to motor sail from Cefalu to the Aeolian Islands. With limited time remaining in Italy (Schengen), we decided to skip the western-most islands in this chain and head straight for Vulcano. The island is an active volcano, and you could see the fumeroles smoking around the crater at dusk from the boat in the anchorage.

The town of Vulcano is tiny and filled with sulfuric mud baths (closed for the season), a few stunningly beautiful black sand beaches, and a bunch of small shops and restaurants. But the highlight is the climb to the top of the crater. As we wandered past one of the many pizzerias, Trip waved and said “hi” to the head pizza maker, already furiously churning out pizza in front of a smoking, blasting, hot pizza oven. The man waved Trip over and handed him a loaf of pane cunzato, the Sicilian loafs used to make sandwiches. It was quite tasty and fortified us as we walked. That same pizzeria would later sell us the beautiful commemorative Messina beer glasses that I couldn’t resist.

But back to the volcano. It’s unpatrolled and done at one’s own risk. Because there is no shade and the sun is blistering in the summer, the trail is closed from 10:30 AM to 4:00 PM every day, and stoplights (with cameras) are at the trailhead to remind those of the rules.

The hike is nothing more than a series of switchbacks. It’s not particularly easy at the beginning, as you’re climbing through ash and sand and gravel. It’s one step up with a partial slide back. There’s seismological equipment stationed all around to measure the activity of the volcano as well.

We had brought a fair amount of water, but were shocked to see the numbers of people hiking with no water at all. I also had to laugh at the stereotypes in the hiking crowd: the Italian women hiking in dresses, the French women hiking in fashionable big floppy sun hats, the Germans with children too young to remember such a strenuous hike.

Of course the views at the top were absolutely stunning and completely worth it.

The one bad thing about where we had anchored was that it was in a lot of boulders (Trip says I exaggerate and that they were large rocks at most). We decided to re-anchor when other boats left to make for a more comfortable night’s rest (chain sliding along rocks creates a grinding noise) and to make it easier to leave in the morning, Trip dove to clear as much chain as he could before we upped anchor. A big motor boat came by, thinking we were definitely stuck, and had their lines out with offers to help free us – so kind! I reassured them that we were not stuck and they waved and moved on. I was crushed to have to also wave on the local fishermen selling their catch straight from the boat, but we had no time to stop. Luckily it was a straightforward thing to up anchor and reset.

I did one of these for Morocco, Sicily is turning out to be equally loaded with photogenic felines…..

Will this never end? Another day of winds much higher than forecasted, again in the 20’s, gusting into the 30’s. Now the seas were up to 6-8 feet, though they were at least more stable, if big (and breaking periodically). We scratched the plan of going to Palermo after reading about the fires, the haze, the water problems and power outages. Palermo is a big dirty city and this did not seem to be the way to experience it. Instead we headed for Cefalu.

Cefalu is a gorgeous little seaside town. The only downside is that the swell AGAIN wrapped around and made it’s way into the anchorage. Getting the dinghy down and the motor on involved a lot of cursing.

But town is absolutely stunning, especially in the late afternoon early evening sun. We stretched our legs and wandered through the cobblestone streets. We watched the surf crash on the breakwater and realized we had a lot of protection despite the swell (such is life on a boat).

We managed to get the last table at the restaurant La Brace where I was horrified to hear that they didn’t have their famous rabbit and chestnuts (provisioners supply chains disrupted by the fires). But we each had a steak that qualified as some of the best we’ve tasted this year. We finished up with a walk through the square where we watched an amazing and funny street performer juggler who was entertaining everyone as well as families with children, and then we closed up the evening with a cannoli and espresso.

We decided to stay another day as swell died down in the harbor and the anchorage got more comfortable. We got our SIM card topped off (it’s still hard to believe €25 gets you unlimited data for an entire month). Trip really wanted a granita in the heat, so we headed back to the main piazza. We toured the Cathedral of Cefalu, a UNESCO world heritage site featured as one of the only churches that encompassed Arab, Norman, and Roman building techniques. The stained glass windows, the most unusual I’ve ever seen in a Catholic Church (and controversial given the abstract nature) are beautiful.

And what would a church in Italy be in summer without a wedding? While we sat in the piazza eating granita, we watched yet another wedding party emerge from the church in all their finery.

The next morning everything was still burning and we needed to leave. The winds were forecast to be 15 knots from the west. Fabulous. Turns out they were in the 20’s, gusting into the 30’s, with 3 foot choppy seas (southerlies shifting to northwesterlies suddenly). At least it was a downwind run. We poled out a third of the jib and were easily making 6-8 knots.

We stopped in Cala di Mondello for the night along with several other boats, it was still blowing hard, so none of us were heading ashore, but at least we were protected from the swell. At least till morning that is. Swell managed to make its way around the point and it was time to go again….we watched the local firefighting planes circle and drop down into our bay to collect water as we were leaving. The smoke was still thick in the air.

Winds were starting to shift and gain in strength so we decided to start making our way north and east. It was a sporty but good sail to San Vito Lo Capo, and the beach under Monte Monaco was absolutely breathtaking. We headed ashore to do laundry and have a drink and some snacks. (We also did our good deed of the day and rescued a randomly floating dinghy in the harbor.)

But that night all hell broke loose. The heat was unbearable (somewhere in the 100’s) and the wind made it feel like sitting in front of a furnace blasting on high. I decided to sleep in the cockpit. I woke up after a few hours of restless sleep to see the mountain haloed in a red glow. Very strange, I thought. I watched. Suddenly, before my eyes, parts of the mountain caught fire and started to burn. I could not believe what I was seeing. It made sense, the heat and winds combined with the lack of rain made this place a tinder box. I waited half an hour before waking Trip up.

‘Um honey, I think the mountain is on fire.’

‘What???’ (Groggy)

‘Never mind, go back to sleep.’

‘No this I have to see.’

The fire raged all night and into the morning. We took turns sleeping and sitting up in the cockpit, monitoring the burning. The winds were blowing away from us, so our risk was low. But it was howling, gusting into the 30’s. I watched a floating pool toy blow by us. I watched a sail come unfurled and barely get rescued. I watched multiple boats drag anchor. It was an unnerving night. We later learned that 40 people had to be evacuated, including a group that had been in the mountains when the fire started and made it to the beach where the Coast Guard picked them up. Sadly, the whole area was left to burn. There are forest fires everywhere in Sicily right now and most of the firefighting resources (so limited and stretched thin) were busy in the Palermo area.

To escape the heat, we took a cable car up into the mountains to the small town of Erice. The entire town looks like it was carved out of stone.

Sicily suffers from terribly hot dry summers (we haven’t experienced rain in weeks and this is normal), but the town here has taken a cue from the Moors. Alleyways were narrow and homes had small windows to limit sun (and therefore heat). But what struck us most was how similar the streets were to riads in Morocco – you would peer through a non-descript doorway and suddenly see a whole beautiful courtyard, possible for more than one family.

It was wonderful walking through the little streets and peering into the small churches. But the highlight was going to the Maria Dommetico Pasterrichia. Maria grew up in Erice and was sent to live in the local convent with her younger sister when their father died and their mother had no means of supporting the family. Often abandoned financially by the church, nuns turned to pastry making as a means to support themselves. Maria not only learned all the pastries, she was savvy enough to open her own storefront which is the most famous in northwest Sicily. Even today she still sits behind the counter collecting money from customers flocking to the store. Coincidentally, I had been reading a book (recommended by my aunt) about an American who moved to Sicily and stayed; it turns out she knew of Maria and collaborated on a book telling Maria’s life called Bitter Almonds, which I had just begun to read!

Topped off with pastries, and having met Maria in person, we headed off to lunch and a drink. Trip got to try his first arancini (rice ball stuffed with Raghu and fried), one of my favorite street foods. But dinner was the absolute best. We had homemade buchiate (a twisted pasta like rotini) with the local trapani pesto, smothered in strachiatella cheese and dusted with ground and toasted pistachios. Divine!

We made to the mainland (?) of Sicily! Trapani is our first stop as we visit the north shore of the island. We did the usual dance of trying to find a place to tie up the dinghy and leave our trash, and then headed off to the Guardia Coasteria to get our consituto stamped. The comedy of errors this time was caused by us. In an effort to lighten our load, especially in the heat, Trip didn’t bring the entire boat binder and instead only brought the boat documentation and constituto (which was all that was asked for before). This Coast Guard also needed the boat insurance papers and our passports, but was kind enough to allow us to come back the next day with all the paperwork. (Which turned out to be a bit of a mistake, and round two at the Coast Guard included almost no English being spoken and lots of waiting while they discussed who knows what).

Town was an interesting mix of formal churches dropped here and there, old walls from the moorish reign, and lots of fun restaurants and bars.

We stopped at a bar by the beach and had fun sipping artisanal beer and listening to old classic Italian songs, including Tu Vuo Fa L’Americano, sampled over and over again (Talented Mr Ripley, Brian Setzer Orchestra, and even Pitbull). We tried to buy a tshirt from the bar, but they only had smalls (Trip’s tshirts are finally succumbing to the heat and sweat and salt and UV rays), so he treated himself to a bottle of nice sipping rum instead. We came upon another wedding photo session with a car (yup, Saturday), but this one wasn’t as charming as the one in Sardinia.

Of course we’re in Sicily – land of the Testa di Moro myth – and the porcelain heads are everywhere, and very recognizable thanks to season 2 of The White Lotus. They’re quite ugly in my opinion, but who knows – I may have to pick one up after all.

Dinner was at a small place on the waterfront by the marinas. Trip had pasta with pesto alla trapanese – pesto very loosely chopped with almonds (instead of pine nuts) and tomatoes. I had the famous couscous with seafood – topped with shrimp, squid, and other mysterious chopped and fried bits. The wine here is very peppery (I miss the smoothness of the cannounou grapes in Sardinia), but we enjoyed dinner immensely.

The Egadi Islands weren’t a planned stop, Schengen time was ticking, and we needed to move on. It was 20 miles to Trapani on the mainland, easy enough in a few hours. Trip had wondered aloud about stopping in other islands along the way, but I said it wasn’t worth it. I looked up the port of Favignana in a cruising app on the tablet as we were passing it to prove my point. Except the reviews were – awesome. Charming little town, anchorage right in the middle of everything, great place to be. Damnit! Trip didn’t need asking twice when I told him to bear to starboard.

We managed to snag the last best spot in the anchorage. You can’t anchor too far out as the ferries need room to turn and one in particular has to drop an anchor to moor (I was VERY anxious watching him drop his anchor not far from us, but it all worked out as winds were light). But my absolute favorite ferries to watch were the hydrofoil hi-speed ferries. Every skipper had a different technique for coming in and out of the harbor, but my favorite skipper would spin the boat on a dime at high speed with his twin jet engines (this from someone who travels on a boat at 5 knots most days). It was so fun to watch; that and all the other boats coming in and jostling for position at the docks. Italians do not have much of a concept of personal space and it’s amazing to watch them move.

We raced across the harbor and found a questionable place to leave the dinghy (Italy and the neverending search for a dinghy dock). No one spoke English, but I was able to confirm in French that we should be ok. Then we raced across town (10 minute walk) to the tuna museum that we had read about….only to find that it closed as we arrived (Google maps said it was open for another hour). We consoled ourselves with a drink and some bruschetta on the beach with live music watching the sun set.

We wandered back through town, amazed at how big it was (then again anything is big compared to Maritemmo where we just were). An impressive number of restaurants and bars. A cat sprawled in front of a little fast food restaurant helped us pick. I had a huge tuna sandwich for dinner and Trip a sausage sandwich. I slipped scraps to the cat periodically (he was not impressed with the lettuce Trip tried feeding him).

We wandered a bit more after dinner and then stopped for the requisite ice cream and coffee. Trip looked over at the ‘sundae’ that a gentleman was eating and asked what it was. Neither of us understood what he was saying, but he definitely indicated that it was wonderful. When the waiter came out, that gentleman ordered for us. It turns out it was scoops of vanilla and hazelnut ice cream over brioche bread soaked in rum. I do not understand why the Italians love their ice cream with brioche (you can get it as an ice cream sandwich too), but I’m not complaining.

We agreed that we would not leave immediately the next day and instead came back to town for the tuna museum, which was absolutely worth the visit. The moors taught the local Egadi fisherman a very complicated technique and system of nets to funnel and trap multiple tuna. We watched videos from the 1920’s of the process of rowing out, dropping nets, hauling them back up, hauling the tuna, and later processing and canning the fish. It was a gruesome process, but probably employed the entire island and I’m glad the museum is there to remember the history.

The other part of the museum was dedicated to Egadi’s history, and included artifacts that have been found on the seabed. The most remarkable of those are multiple bronze ramming tips from Roman galleys that sailed the waters 3rd century BC. Along with the rams, we watched videos showing offensive and defensive maneuvers that ships would use in battle. These islands were the scene of the battle between the Romans and the Carthaginians ending the first Punic War with the Romans on the winning side (the Romans won Sicily).

I had never heard of the Egadi islands, but a couple we met in Villasimius on another American flagged boat said it’s a great stop on the way to Trapani. So we did, and what a treasure! Our timing was so good we managed to snag the last mooring available in Cala Mangione early afternoon. I passed out for a couple hours while Trip paid the park officials for the mooring (€31.50 is the most random amount for a daily charge, no?)

The water is the deepest blue we’ve ever experienced. The swimming off the boat is heavenly, as well as necessary, as the heat wave only feels like it is growing and the air and sun are absolutely oppressive mid afternoon to early evening. There’s plenty of small tour boats, but not nearly as many as what we saw in the Madalenna Islands, and they all disappear late afternoon as usual.

We realize we can see ‘town’ from where we are and decide to take the dinghy to go explore for dinner. We approach a small rocky beach inside a fisherman’s harbor. A man immediately comes up to help us land the dinghy. Trip goes off and asks someone if it’s ok to leave the dinghy (Italy is not good about providing dinghy docks), and he says yes and then proceeds to help us pull it all the way up the beach (Italian men are pretty old school and somewhat chauvinistic but I’m not going to complain in some circumstances).

Town is absolutely charming. Two minutes and you’ve walked through the entire place. It’s obviously touristy, but in a very laid back way. We wander out to the main harbor where there is a movie festival going on. They’re doing a Q&A with a film cast, but we understand no Italian so we wander over to a bar for drinks. During happy hour, bars may charge a little more for drinks, but you get snacks as well. Our beers included bruschetta with scraps of smoked fish – it must cost the bar owner almost nothing but was so incredibly tasty and wasted nothing of the fish!

I was disappointed to find that we couldn’t get into the slow food restaurant for dinner (all of 4 tables), but we find a local place with good beer, octopus salad, caponata, and red shrimp pasta. We wander back to the waterfront for coffee and pistachio ice cream (a Sicilian specialty), where we chat with the bar manager, who lives in North Carolina when he’s not in Italy helping his family for the summer season.

Back at the anchorage we sit and enjoy the star studded sky with a final drink. Out of the blue we heard crazy “wacka-wacka” sounds. I look at my watch – 10 pm. Sure enough, it’s Cory’s Shearwaters, returning from the sea to their nests. Though not as numerous at the groups we heard in the Azores, the sound of the birds is unmistakeable and we listen contentedly before heading off to bed.

The next day we got up early and we headed to shore to walk up to the Castello de Ponta Troia. With the heat and the sun, we’re making the 20 minute climb at 8 am and I’ve already got sweat pouring off my face and neck. The castle was built in 827 to guard over the town, and the huge cistern was used centuries later as a prison (guesome but effective). The view of the anchorage and island in general is stunning from that height.

After coming down, Trip rows while I paddle to the Grotto del Camello. Monk seals (an endangered species) are known to winter here. It’s still early and no one else is around, so we have it all to ourselves. The cave is enormous, and makes the most eery noises as the water hits the rock and echos around. Sunlight pours through a hole in the top of the rocks and highlights that crystalline blue water. Bliss.