Terrific Taormina

We also spent some time in Taormina. I have anchored in the bay there before, but never been up the hill to the town. It is one of those towns where every stone in the street and every building is perfectly set to give the appearance of a gentile life now filled with tourists that flock the streets. There is a beautiful garden built by some 19th century Scottish aristocrat who fled here after a sorted affair with the heir to the English throne. She certainly did a good job taking command of a peninsula that juts out from the rugged mountain slope.

Messina

Michael, Tim and Lou joined us after we left the Aeolian Islands. We sailed south with then through the Straights of Messina. It is always interesting to see how unsettled the water is in that area where the Ionian Sea and Tyrrhenian Sea clash together. I always think of the myths of monsters and sirens responsible for the numerous shipwrecks in this area. Now it is more the dodging of the constant ferries and ships that are the major hazards. We stayed in Messina for a couple of days. This is the first time I have stopped there. The town’s claim to fame is an enormous clock that is central to the town and central to the tourist industry. At noon, the clock comes alive. Gelded lions roar, cocks crow and angels pull the clapper of its huge bells. It takes about 20 minutes to run through this mechanical tableau to announce that noon has arrived. We strolled through the turn-of-the-century buildings on wide boulevards and climbed up the prominent hill where the duomo sits ruling over the city for a commanding panorama.

Islands off of an Island

James joined us and sailed the northern coast of Sicily. He is a sexy guy from Hawaii who planned on sailing with us for a couple of weeks. As his time got near, James ended up extending his time with us for a couple more days. It was so fun having him on board. When it was time for him to leave, it felt like we were loosing one of our crew. Just off the northern coast of Sicily, rising out of the cobalt sea just north of Messina are a group of islands known as the Aeolian Islands. It is no surprise that these islands are from volcanic eruptions similar to the ones that created Sicily. And like Sicily some of them are still very much active. Stromboli is probably the most famous of the group. Its vents send up a continuous plume of gas often accompanied with spitting lava. It is at times like this that I am grateful that we are on a sailboat that can bring us to these idyllic islands. We are able to hop from one island to the other and change anchorages depending on the wind and wave direction. We sailed into a protective bay on Vulcano, the southern most island. The tall rim still smolders and spews plums of steamy gases. The smell of yellow sulphur is ever present and the black sand beaches all let you know that this is an active volcano. The next day we sail to the nearby island of Lipari. For the most part the sea floor plummets 100 feet close to shore making anchoring impossible. But we are able to find a sandy shoal close to the main town of the same name. We drop our anchor and spend a few days enjoying the amazing island cuisine and hanging out at the local sidewalk cafes. Except for the tourist shops, the town seems like a step back in history. Its stone block roads and a labyrinthine of narrow streets lined on both sides with small shops selling their wares. In 1544 pirates invaded the town murdering most of the men and enslaved most of the women. Those that were left resolved to never let that happen again. They built a strong citadel on the top of a cliff overlooking the sea that still looks like it would repel an invading army. It now houses an archeological museum and various administrative offices. After a couple of leisurely days, we head back to Vulcano this time anchoring on the leeward side of the island. We spend the afternoon soaking in the gurgling mud baths and exploring the town built around the hot springs.

Lovely Licata

We let out the sails and start to head along the southern coast of Sicily. Joe and Loren from California joined us in Ragusa to share this adventure. We know Joe from Burning Man and got to know Loren while sharing this part of Sicily. The wind and waves are at our backs, so we split the sail and get good speeds over 10 knots. There is a new marina at Licata which we hear is offering berths for free during the month of May. It is a great place for us to spend some time, so we decide to take advantage of the offer. Situated between two ancient commercial ports of Gela and Agrigento, this little piece of real estate has its history of battles and occupation that dates back to before the Greeks. We happen to stumble into town in the middle of their biggest festival of the year celebrating Sant’Angelo’s day, the patron saint of the town. It is a four-day affair that includes music, traditional dance, street fairs and lots of homage to this beloved saint. On Sunday the town church held the blessing of the donkeys. The donkeys are adorned with peacock feathers, foxtails, flowers, beaded material and anything else they can do to make their donkey the most ornate. You can’t be blessed by the church dressed in nothing but your finest. Often the donkeys are hitched to detailed painted carts and pulling cherry cheeked children with proud smiles . After evening Sunday mass, there is a somber procession carrying Saint Angelo’s relics through town in a magnificent silver ark. The brass band plays and the participants carry lit candles marking the way. Throughout all of this there are about a hundred barefoot teenage boys dressed as sailors milling around the plaza in front of the church for their part in the pageantry. It comes at the end of the procession. While waiting the impatient boys make their own fun by creating human towers and chanting what sounded more like soccer cheers than anything religious. Occasionally they would take one of the younger boys and throw them as high as they could in the air and catch the flaying boy as he came back down. The procession with the sacred urn eventually stops at the other end of town. The police clear the streets and the young sailors take their place in front. After some chanting and a few false starts, these hundred or so barefoot sailors all break into a run back to the chapel with the silver urn carried along at the same speed. Carrying this heavy ark holding the relics of Saint Angelo is not easy. At one point it precariously tips, but is rescued by the running sailors. Ok, I have no idea what that is about, but it is certainly a fun part of the celebration. The next day, the festivities continue as the young men of the town show their bravado by first trying to walk to the end of a narrow beam on the stern of a fishing boat that is greased to capture the red flag that is at the end. Numerous failed attempts are made with the young boy sliding off the plank and plunging into the sea before one is able to make a valiant leap for the flag as he too slides on the slippery surface into the sea. A cheer goes up from the quay as the town witnesses the bravery. Then in mass, the whole crowd surrounds a tall pole that has also been greased to watch a different group try to climb to the top. At the very top waving in the wind is another red flag taunting the participants below. They also attach a hoop at the top and hang stuff animals, soccer balls and treats. The young men make attempt after attempt to reach the prize. Getting boosted up and climbing on shoulders of those already clinging to the greased pole, they try and reach the top. But it is not all that simple. Part of the tradition is to also pull and rip the clothing of those above you. Pant legs are torn off and tee shirts ripped before someone is able to make it to the top. From there the stuffed animals and soccer balls are thrown to the crowd below before the red flag is finally captured. This is a celebration not for tourists, but for the town itself. This time of year there are very few outsiders clicking their cameras for those photo opportunities. We were one of the few. This is a celebration of what binds a community together. The young and the old come together to play an important role in the long traditions that have uniquely defined this town along the southern coast of Sicily.

Running Back to Ragusa

After a week of exploring the northern part of Italy we catch a flight and head for the very most southern part of Italy. Back to Sicily and Marina di Ragusa, where my boat spent the winter enjoying the Italian sun without me. We arrived in the late evening and found everything as we had left it. The next couple of weeks are being spent cleaning, polishing, blowing up the dingy, raising the sails, doing laundry, stocking up the pantry and all the other details to get ready for the summer sailing season. It is good to be back. Feels like home.

Come to Como

Another year of sailing begins. We left San Francisco on April 1st and traveled back to Milan. Rather than stay in the city, we headed north about an hour and a half to Lake Como. It is an idyllic lake area with steep shear mountains framing clear alpine lakes. The biggest of the lakes is Como. It has been the playground for the rich and royal for centuries. Amazing villas show off their wealth and prestige along the waterfront. While there are many impressive villas, there are 4 that command the crowning glory of the region. These date back to the 18th century and include Villa Carlotta, built for the Milanese marques the Giorgio Clerici and completed in 1745. In 1843, it was given as a wedding present by Princess Marianna of Prussia to her daughter Charlotte, after whom the villa is named. As impressive as the villa is, the grounds are certainly equal to the beauty. While the gardens were manicured and dotted with spots of brilliant annuals, we were there about a month early. The rhododendrons, camellias and azaleas that towered over 10 feet high were budding and about to burst forth in a spectacular blaze of color. Our favorite town was Bellagio, which is at the head of the peninsula where the lake breaks into two legs. This is one of those towns that knows it is as cute as a postcard and caters to the tourist trade that want to live like royalty at least for a week. Three of the main villas are within site of each other. The fourth one is further south on the west side of the lake. George Clooney bought villa Oleander on the west side of the lake and is “the” celebrity of the region.

Wow What a Duomo

The next morning, we jumped on the subway to begin our site seeing adventures. Steve tells me the first thing on the list of must-sees is the Milan cathedral. I have seen so many fantastic churches that I kinda rolled my eyes, but went along. When we came out of the subway, we are faced with one top three cathedrals I have ever seen in my life. And I don’t even know for sure what the other two would be. This church is so over the top. It is a gothic church covered with statues and a lacy top of stone carved gothic arches and spires. This thing has more statues on it than entire European countries. And that is saying something. Beautiful stain glass windows punctuate the outside walls making the whole church very delicate. I was wowed by something that I never expected to be impressed with. We wandered through a half a dozen museums and wandered through the “designer section” of town that makes Rodeo drive look like a slum. Yeah it is pretty up scale. Who’s who in the fashion industry all have posh stores where they only buzz you in. There are about 4 clerks to every shopper. We just googled through the windows and made catty remarks about some of the really far out designs.