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.