8th-21st September
We were quite comfortable in the harbour in Gioia Tauro. It helped that Sheenagh had a car and we could get out and about, see something of the countryside and also visit a large supermarket (more than once!) and get in supplies without having to walk several kilometres carrying heavy bags. However, the walk into town turned out to be much easier than the pilot book had suggested and Tony and I enjoyed strolling in there of a morning, drinking a coffee and buying a few supplies before wandering back. As you may have gathered, we like our little routines! It helped that at the end of the first week there was a storm and torrential rain, which lowered the daytime temperatures a little.
But not before we had wandered round Tropea in the sweltering heat. It is a lovely cliff-top town, with several views down on to the local beaches and to a sea that is breathtaking, a brilliant aquamarine and crystal-clear. So it was hot: it was still worthwhile not only for the town itself, but the drive through some of the most beautiful scenery: more mountains and valleys and glimpses of the sea.
Even more worthwhile was the trip to Etna. I think none of us thought we would actually get there. We left late and then enjoyed a long, leisurely lunch before setting off once again, following signs to 'Etna'. We passed through several towns, the narrow streets necessitating complicated one-way systems, and then, suddenly we had reached the level of the newest lava flows... dense black, there is little that grows except here and there some small patches of rough grass. The road, as always, wound its way round the mountain in a series of hairpin bends and then, suddenly we were there at the top... well, the bottom of the top. We had arrived as far as it was possible to get by car. From then on it was on foot or by cable car and safari jeep.
It is one of those landscapes that might as well be on the moon so little does it resemble what we are used to seeing. It is all black ash and dust, strange shapes, conical eruptions, empty craters, steep slopes. We took the cable car to the first stage for a slightly closer look at the volcano but we had arrived late in the afternoon and Tony didn't think we had time to take the safari tour to the crater. Now, I wish we had... perhaps there will be another opportunity. Another... One Day We Will Do That!!! to add to the growing list. You may have gathered that I find volcanoes fascinating, the idea of all this geological activity, explosions, hot lava flows... hot springs... pumice floating on the sea. The best was Nisiros, one of the Greek Dodecanese Islands, where we actually did make it to the crater... but that's another story.
For now, we are on Etna, it is hot, there is smoke coming from the crater, and there are people wandering everywhere. Now, in Italy it seems that the young, and possibly the not-so-young, love graffiti. On Etna the graffiti took the form of names marked out in small stones... Mario loves Laura... Fabrizio 10.9.2008... it seemed that leaving a memento of the visit was an essential part of the experience.
On Friday we were told that the boat was arriving that afternoon and that Twelfth of Never would be loaded Saturday morning... that was as we were leaving for Etna so when we got back it was a mad rush to get all the final jobs done, ready to move round to the commercial port at seven o'clock the next morning. Seven o'clock came and went. Then eight o'clock, nine o'clock... the captain who was to take here round finally arrived around half past nine and everyone waited... and waited... finally, just before eleven, the word came, they were ready for us... Tony and the boys went off on Twelfth of Never, Sheenagh and I watching, rather regretting electing not to go with them... the day was hot, the sun unforgiving... we sat and we chatted.
There were regular updates by telephone. They were tied to the quay... it was a long way up from Twelfth of Never to the Quay... No-one seemed to be in charge... Tony and the boys were doing all the work... no-one had any tools... the mast was off... it was chaos they told us. Then... everyone has gone away they wailed... nothing is happening... THEN... they have lost a part of the cradle... they cannot load the boat today, we will have to wait for the next boat...
So back they came to the harbour, to wait... they were hot and tired and I think Tony was suffering from spending much too much time under the full glare of the blazing sun. So dinner at the local restaurant... followed by a quiet Sunday and a slow Monday.
The week flew past: some days pottering about on the boat, wandering into town, some days out sightseeing. Sheenagh and I indulged in a few trips to the supermarket... and we ate and we talked and we played Uno... and no word about when the next boat would arrive... and then we were told... Saturday. This time they had everything they needed and Twelfth of Never made it onto the boat. Then, to my great relief, Stephen and Alex helped us get the anchor up and stored in the locker!!! As with coming into the harbour, we had moved off before I even had time to think about it... and then we were tying up on the fuel quay and I wasn't ready... I had the wrong fenders, I didn't have the right mooring lines... oh... we're moored...
We passed our last night in Gioia Tauro lying alongside the fuel quay. A final dinner out... a final game of Uno... and time for bed.
