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Naples, Pompeii, Herculaneum, Sorrento – Italy 2017

July 28, 2017 / terry

Naples 22-26 July

The ferry from Palermo was due into Naples around 6:30am so it was an early rise and out to reception with our bags to watch the entry into port. As the boat cruised in under the gaze of Mount Vesuvius, the notorious volcano, we were amazed at just how small it looks compared to the gigantic Mount Etna in Sicily. Vesuvius has not erupted since 1944 but the scientists are somewhat concerned about mounting pressures, including some building under Naples itself. Hopefully, it can hang on for another four days.

The problem with arriving so early is finding somewhere to kill time with heavy bags before getting access to accommodation. Our apartment hosts had promised access at 9am so we had a few hours. There was not much open as we made our way along the via Nuovo Marina but we eventually found a little cafe-bar serving coffee and croissant. Christine was wearing her Aussie cricket shirt and the proprietor was from Pakistan so we were most welcome and he used his limited English to strike up a bit of a conversation.

We found our apartment block, a clean and neat looking block set in an area of tight narrow streets. The streets were absolutely filthy, as were most of the buildings. Naples is famous for being dirty but it is hard to imagine just how filthy the streets can be. Litter is everywhere, obviously just discarded without a care. Dog crap is also a continual problem when walking and the streets are sometimes easier to walk on than the broken sidewalks. I find it quite depressing to think that the people of one of Europe’s foremost countries can actually live in these conditions, beautiful apartments on the inside, top quality clothes and the best of fashion yet streets that are in worse condition than parts of South East Asia. People just seem to shrug their shoulders and say, “That’s what it’s like here.”

After a wait, our host arrived to let us in to a very comfortable apartment on the fourth floor of a six storey block. The owners have a number of apartments and have themed each one with a colour. Ours is a pink theme, very pink, pink is everywhere. It gets quite dazzling at times. However, the apartment is comfortable and very well located, right on the edge of the historic centre and a block away from Corso Umberto 1, the main shopping precinct, where shops sell high fashion goods at Perth K-Mart prices. We located a nearby supermarket and found a lovely little fruit and veg shop across the road. Around the corner is a fishmonger with a big range of fresh seafood. We are settled in and know where the rubbish bins are.

Around Naples, with Vesuvius at the top. Our street is at top right and the ferry from Palermo in the centre.

Further up the hill beyond Corso Umberto and along via Duomo there is a tangle of tiny streets and alleyways that are quite delightful to walk through. They contain hundreds of touristic shops selling a wide variety of goods, but most prominent are the miniature models depicting working life scenes from old Naples. There are doctors, weavers, laundry workers, gardeners and every conceivable occupation, all in beautiful little miniature and each beavering away at their task. The dentist was rather grizzly and one of the doctors was working hard on someone’s buttocks.

Many of the larger buildings are undergoing extensive repairs, and are shrouded in mesh netting and scaffolding. Thousands more are in urgent need of attention. A decent earthquake, not all that uncommon in Naples, would take its toll. The Metro underground is being expanded as well, also causing a lot of disruption around the central historical part of the city. This can only be a good thing because reducing the number of cars would have to be a top priority. Cars choke every street and footpath, making walking in some places very difficult. Around a quarter of these cars appear to be permanently parked, covered in a thick layer of grime and squeezed into space leaving mere centimetres between each one. Most have scratches and bumps around all sides and no car more than a year old looks untouched. Those that do make it into the traffic spend most of their time at idle, trapped in the endless snarls, then accelerating hard when a gap opens up only to slam on the brakes a few seconds later. Many other European cities have simply banned cars and motorbikes from the central areas and rigidly enforced parking rules. If public transport is cheap and efficient, the need to own a car in a big city is lessened. All it needs is the will and determination to change, something I suspect is lacking in Naples. France and Germany already have a timeline for the end of petrol and diesel powered vehicles. Italy needs to catch up and Perth needs to start learning some lessons before it is too late. Naples is a vision of the future we can expect if we go on as we are.

Sorrento

Naples serves as a hub for excursions and there are too many choices of what to see and not enough time. We chose to catch a train to Sorrento to check out for ourselves whether the amazing reputation is warranted. We had a kilometre walk to the huge train station complex at Piazza Garibaldi, stopping along the way to walk through a side-street market that specialised in loud men shouting “Prego!” and piles of cheap odd fragments of clothing. The Piazza Garibaldi area is reputed to be the worst for pick pockets, in a city where petty theft is a major industry. We had gone prepared, with no credit cards, passports or excess cash and things stored in deep zipped pockets. I also had a “man bag” for other essentials for the day.

The train to Sorrento is the Circumvesuviana Line, a narrow gauge line that services Herculaneum, Pompeii and Sorrento, as well as dozens of villages around the base of the volcano Mt Vesuvius. I declare it to be the worst railway I have ever travelled on. It does not run as part of the normal Trenitalia system. The tickets can only be purchased at two little windows and each transaction is carried out at a snail’s pace, resulting in ridiculously long lines. Pickpockets move through the heavy crowds relieving people of their belongings (not kidding). We eventually got two tickets and located platform 3, just missing a train and having 30 minutes to wait for the next one. The crowds swelled along a lengthy platform to near bursting point, made worse by the fact that many people had luggage, using the train as a way of getting to Sorrento to stay. We struck up a conversation with a Scottish/Norwegian couple and there was a group of four Americans next to us. Finally, a train arrived and stopped with the last carriage nearly ten metres beyond us. The crowd surged on and somehow we managed to push our way onto an ancient dilapidated old carriage and find a spot, standing shoulder to shoulder. One of the Americans felt a hand in his pocket and confronted the culprit, who raised his hands, said sorry and made for the door. He and a mate got off as the train pulled into the first stop, just as another of the Americans found they had lifted her purse from her handbag, complete with credit cards and around 400€. I know how she felt after the same experience in Rimini. It just destroys you but in this case there is almost no defence.

The train was impossibly hot, terribly rattly and ridiculously overcrowded. It must be making a huge amount of money through Pompeii, Herculaneum and Sorrento but little appears to be going back into rolling stock. Thankfully, after Pompeii, about two thirds of the way along, more than half the crowd alighted and things settled down for the rest of the trip. At least we got to be uncomfortable sitting down.

Once we got to Sorrento, we ran into the crowds again. There were tour groups everywhere, each following a guide holding up a stick with a grubby worn fluffy doll of some description. We wandered down through the streets, admiring the beauty (and cleanliness) of the town. A maze of tiny alleyways were filled with the usual souvenir and craft shops, many featuring some really pretty local porcelain pieces. In places, the crowds thinned out, only to recur around the next bend. Sorrento is built on top of a long high rock cliff overlooking a lovely bay containing several small harbours. We arrived at a small park that provides a perfect lookout situation to gaze down at the crowds of swimmers and sunbathing masses below. A steep path is cut into the cliff and winds down in four long zigzags. The pathway looked like hard work but fortunately, there are twin elevators cut into the rock and provide easy access at a Euro a trip, money well spent.

We looked at the menu of a restaurant overlooking the cliff and gagged at the prices so decided to hang back a couple of blocks away from the water and pay half the amount. We found a converted 16^th Century monastery that was converted into a library of historic papers and books and served as an excellent restaurant.

Around Sorrento

The front of house spruiker was so entertaining and pretty successful at dragging people in. He like Australians and involved us in some of his banter. “Hey,“ he would call out to a passing couple, “How about a cold beer in a frosted mug? My friends here have had four (an exaggeration). They’re Australian.”

We shared a delicious prawn salad and an amazing spinach cannelloni, leaving feeling replenished but not full to bursting. That takes some doing in the restaurants in Italy because the serving sizes vary between enormous and gigantic. We have even overeaten when ordering only an appetizer.

After another wander through the streets, we used the elevators to descend to the beach areas. From below, it is easy to really appreciate the wonder of Sorrento. The work that has gone into bricking up parts of the cliff and constructing ramparts and walls is staggering. Beautiful (and expensive) hotels line the cliff tops, some having their own elevators that run down through the cliff to service the beach area. In Roman times, Sorrento was the summer residence of the rich, with villas sitting on top of the cliffs to catch the cooling breezes. I imagine the wealthy were carried up the pathways to the top.

We caught a high speed ferry back to Naples, a lot more expensive than the train but infinitely more comfortable and quicker. The motion of the boat across the Bay of Naples was soothing and we both slept most of the way.

In hindsight, we would have been far better off staying in Sorrento instead of Naples, despite the high cost of accommodation in areas near the centre and beach. It would have served just as well as a hub to visit Pompeii and been far more pleasant.

Herculaneum

Herculaneum is lesser known than Pompeii and closer to Naples. The original Roman city suffered the same fate as Pompeii in 79AD when Mount Vesuvius erupted, raining millions of tonnes of volcanic ash over the town and cities on its slopes, covering them for nearly two thousand years. Herculaneum was later built over as the modern day town of Ercolano, and it was not until the 17^th Century that knowledge of what lay beneath prompted the beginning of the extensive excavation program. Herculaneum (named after Hercules) was a port city, perched high on coastal cliffs. With the extensive infill from the volcanic ash and subsequent eruptions, the excavated city is nearly a kilometre inland and well below the current level of Ecolano.

To reach Herculaneum, we had to board the dreaded Circumvesuviana Line train again. We left it later in the day, hoping the crowds going through to Sorrento would have eased and we were right, the train being only filled to 90% capacity instead of 120%. The heat, sweat and odours of the previous day’s train were the same but this time we didn’t witness a pickpocket operation. Once at Ercolano, we had to walk down the main street to Herculaneum. The taxi, bus, restaurant and tour guide touts were out in force and showed signs of being persistent. After the heat of the train I was lacking in patience and yelled at the first guy that tried to press his case. Another girl crossed the road to secure our business and she got snapped at as well. They really didn’t care less but it made me feel much better.

The first sight of the ruins is from above, allowing an incredible overview of the city uncovered to date. There is still a great deal lying under modern day Ecolano, including a huge amphitheatre and a number of large public buildings and temples. These have been partly explored by tunnelling in from the existing excavations.

We paid our 11€ entrance fee, secured a map and an excellent guide book then set off to explore the ruins. Many areas and buildings remain open for the public to explore and wander, while some more fragile or important buildings have restricted access. The guidebook gave a terrific insight into the various buildings, many of them family homes, as well as various shops, bars, restaurants, bakeries and blacksmiths. Many buildings were complete except for the roof, the hot ash having set fire to the timbers or the roof structure being unable to support the crushing weight of the ash and rock. Not all timber was totally destroyed though, with some remaining in a charred and blackened state. Down at the dock area, the foreshore warehouses were filled with skeletons, over 300 of them, presumably of people who were sheltering in the beachside overhangs from the ash fall. We wandered the streets of the city and through the buildings for over an hour, using the guidebook to add meaning to the sights. The heat was oppressive and I wondered what it would have been like in Roman times during summer, when the necessary use of fire and the smells of animals, sewerage and people would have made conditions in the narrow rock lined streets unbearable.

Herculaneum

We found Herculaneum to be an amazing place and it demonstrates just how advanced the Romans were with their civic works and way of life. We have seen a lot of Roman ruins on this trip but to see them without the advanced state of decay that two thousand years of exposure brings is wonderful. A lot of people have told us that Herculaneum is a better experience than Pompeii itself. Tomorrow, we will find out. Unfortunately, it means another trip on the dreaded train.

Pompeii

Pompeii meant one last train trip, actually, two counting the return. We got a pleasant surprise when the train pulled in. It was a modern looking affair and actually had air-conditioning. Because we had waited until just after lunch, the crowds were also down so we had what almost amounted to a pleasant trip. We needed one because once at the Pompeii ticket area it was frustration plus. Two ticket windows serviced a line of at least two hundred people, probably more. The wait is often said to be over an hour so I guess we were lucky and managed tickets in a half hour. They are so inefficient! It is so bad that I can only assume it is deliberate and that they feel all foreigners on Italian soil need some form of punishment. I could ask a class of ten year old children to come up with a better system and they would produce at least five ways of selling tickets quicker. The line snakes down across an exposed concreted area under the full blare of the sun. A misting fan is thoughtfully supplied at one point, although I would have thought a patio roof or shade cloth would do a much better job. Finally, tickets in hand, we went through to pick up a map and guidebook. Sorry! No maps left. Tough luck about your 13€ payment but you can’t have all that you paid for. The ruins get 2.5 million visitors a year. I think the authorities can do better.

The entrance to the ancient town is through the Porta Marina, the gate that originally serviced the road to the coast, not very far away before the eruption. Once through the gate, a long straight road stretched out before us, bordered on each side by small buildings, similar in appearance to those of Herculaneum. But that is where the comparison ended. The road led to the Forum, the key part of all Roman cities, the place of government and worship. In only a short walk it appeared that Pompeii was a much more important and significant city than Herculaneum and the richness of the Forum and surrounding temples displayed its significance. However, this was not actually the case, Herculaneum being the richer of the two cities. The difference is that most of Pompeii had been uncovered whereas the majority of Herculaneum is still buried. At the time of the eruption in 79 AD, the city had a population of around 11,000 people. Founded by the Greeks in the 7^th Century BC, it was already an ancient city when it was covered and the buildings that have been preserved by the ash build-up ranged in age from almost new to five hundred years old. Therefore, there is a wide variety of architectures and building techniques in evidence.

The cobbled roads seemed to be either vehicular roads or pedestrian only roads, the later being bared to vehicular traffic with large barrier stones like bollards. The vehicular roads often bore the worn ruts of wheels worn over the centuries, further evidence that Pompeii was already a very old city when it was covered.

Pompeii

The whole area is enormous, covering around 68 hectares. Most of the city is a collection of houses, shops and workshops, much as any city. The Forum dominates, along with numerous large temples to various Gods and divinities. Further down the hill there is a large amphitheatre. Some of the houses are very large with private bathing facilities and magnificent reception courtyards. As with Herculaneum, most of the roofs were destroyed and many of the painted frescoes decorating the walls were damaged. Those that remain show the skill of the artists of the day.

What did surprise us both was the extent to which the Romans relied on brick to build. So many of the ruins that remain today feature stone and marble columns that I had assumed that these were the main materials used. Solid stone was in fact used in only the most important of buildings and most were actually built with brick columns and a cement plaster outer coating. In many other ruined cities, the brick structures have long since fallen and only the solid stone buildings remained over the centuries.

We were glad that we had deliberately left our tour of Pompeii to a day forecast as cooler and with a chance of rain. The rain did not eventuate, save a brief shower on the way home, but the clouds gave some relief from what would be a very hot and exposed environment amongst all the stone and brick buildings.

Eventually, the kilometres of walking and steady heat took its toll and we headed for the exit. We had looked forward to seeing the smaller items , the pottery, jewellery, weapons and so forth but there did not seem to be a display of these objects other than a small collection of pottery near the exit. There is a new rail station under construction one stop down from Pompeii called Antiquarian that I am assuming is part of a new project to house the smaller museum type pieces from Pompeii. It is difficult to really get information. Fortunately, we had both been to a magnificent exhibition of Pompeii relics at the WA Museum only a few years ago.

Which was better; Pompeii or Herculaneum? Pompeii won hands down in our opinion for the sheer size and scale of the city and the importance and grandeur of the large public buildings.

Summary

We came to Naples to use it as a hub to see Pompeii, Herculaneum and Sorrento. Naples itself did nothing for us, other than turn us off. It is a city that displays everything that is wrong and dysfunctional in Italy. It is dirty, crime ridden and crime controlled. The traffic is appalling and public infrastructure worse than many Third World countries we have visited. I acknowledge that we did not see all that Naples has to offer and that living in the area that is essentially the port side of the old town things may be more run-down than other areas but we did travel around a fair bit of the city and little that we saw really impressed.

We should have gone to Sorrento instead, paid a lot more for accommodation but been better placed to travel and enjoy the good parts of Campania. It would have made it more convenient to visit the Amalfi Coast, south of Sorrento, an area that time ruled out for us. Still, we wouldn’t know that unless we had been.

GALLERIES:

Sicily, Italy, 2017

July 23, 2017 / terry

Catania, Sicily 14-18 July

We had to catch a train up to Reggio Calabria Lido for a ferry across to Messina in Sicily. We thought we had things detailed with a 9am train but when we got there the board did not show anything until 9:40, which meant we missed the connecting ferry and had to wait until 11:05. By now, we are used to this sort of thing happening with Trenitalia and with transport in general. The ferry trip was a mere 35 minutes across the Straits of Messina and we walked away from the dock up to the central rail station. Since the dock area and around the train station is often the ugliest part of any city we were unable to form an opinion of Messina. There were several trains available to take us to Catania and we chose a 13:20 train to give us time for a bite to eat. We found a great eatery close to the station that served a wonderful potato and cheese bake concoction so we washed it down with a beer.

Back at the station, we set about purchasing some tickets from the ticket machine. As we were processing the payment at the auto ticket machine, a couple of African guys asked for help buying tickets. The machines will operate in English if it is selected and their English was fine but it was apparent that neither could read. They had a handful of coins each. We worked one on one stepping them through the selections. However, when they came to the type of ticket they both wanted to choose “Child” at half fare(3.80€). I told my guy that the conductor would fine him for cheating but he said he only had enough for a child fare. Unknown to me, Christine’s pupil was wanting the same. If we were working together we probably would have just agreed to buy the adult tickets for each one and be done with it but in the end both guys bought child tickets and thanked us profusely for our help.

We boarded the train on time (a good sign) and immediately encountered a conductor checking tickets, quite a rare event on regional trains in Italy. We worried for our African guys and I managed to watch the encounter with one from a distance. The conductor checked the ticket then reached for the notepad in his hip pocket and I thought he was gone. He went into a very good show of subservience and pleading until eventually the conductor scanned his ticket and moved on. Well done mate!

The train carried us south, under the shadow of the volcano, Mount Etna, the summit shrouded in a mixture of clouds and volcanic smoke. We passed through numerous small villages, all very neat and surrounded by lush gardens. Here, citrus and olive groves flourish in the rich volcanic soil and the market gardens are unbelievably productive. There are some upsides to constantly living under the threat of death by volcanic eruption.

We reached Taormina, a town of outstanding beauty perched along the cliffs under Mt Etna. Below us, a fortune in yachts and mega power boats lay at anchor in sparkling clear waters. The train stopped at the station, a lot of people got off and the police got on. What followed was a lot of talk and phone calls between train officials, police and a large number of people on the train that seemed to actually know what was going on. We didn’t know whether we were facing a terrorist threat, a hold up or what ever. No one seemed to be giving any information, either in Italian or English for quite some time. After 20 minutes or so, after which we had decided that the gun toting police were not too upset, we found out that there was once again a fire on the track ahead of us. One of the police came through the carriage and ascertained that we were not trying to get to Catania Airport. Those that were got taken off the train onto a bus. After the experience in Calabria a few day before, we were keen to stay on the train. After an hour and a half, the train got mobile again and we finally rattled into Catania Centrale.

We usually choose accommodation within a 1km walk of a rail station and we thought we had this time too. Off we went, following Google Map instructions with our 17kg backpacks on in 35°C heat until we had walked far enough to check on the distance left. We were struggling and still had another kilometer to go. Obviously we had stuffed up with the distance from station to our accommodation being around 2.5km. It was a major walk in trying conditions but we finally found our apartment in a little street called via Pulea off the major avenue of via Etnea. On the plus side, we had walked through some beautiful parts of Catania, not around the rail station, which was ugly and dirty as is the case in many cities, but later on when we walked through majestic streets and several glorious piazzas. It promised a lot of wonderful exploration.

The apartment provided the basics, including an air-conditioner that just managed to cope with the heat of Catania and a toilet cistern that needed special treatment to prevent it from producing a terrible death-rattle noise as the float level valve was closing. The owner was a collector of “stuff” and couldn’t bare to throw anything out. The trouble was that he hadn’t collected all the right stuff, including a kettle, a pot big enough to boil pasta or more than one dinner plate. Fortunately, he had a kindly neighbor who was happy to cover his deficiencies in his absence.

We found some locally made fresh ravioli at a nearby supermarket and enjoyed the first meal that hadn’t come from a kebab shop or panini stall since leaving Montenegro. Here we are now surrounded by many great looking restaurants and we are back to apartment living and cooking our own. Some good local Sicilian wine supplemented a beautiful meal.

Catania Old Town

The next morning we set out in city walking mode to explore the many sights in this World Heritage listed city. Catania has a distinctively different look to it that sets it apart from other Italian cities and it is the result of the use of a dark grey volcanic stone rather than the soft white limestone or sandstone so common elsewhere. That, along with heavy layer of soot and grime covering much of the lighter coloured stone does produce a dirty look but the lavish architecture and Baroque styling overcomes much of that. Part way down the via Etnea we stopped for a while in the Piazza Stesicoro to admire the remains of the 1^st Century Roman amphitheatre buried beneath the city. It was a huge stadium, originally built in 300BC but rebuilt in the 2^nd Century during the Empire. It was built of lava rock and marble and survived largely intact until a large earthquake destroyed it in the 17^th Century. Much of the original is now foundation for many other buildings and the portion visible represents only about 1/8^th of the oval shaped structure with seating and holding areas for gladiators, performers and the like.

Around Catania with the Roman Amphitheatre at the top.

We walked the length of via Etnea, marvelling at the sheer scale and opulence of the buildings and the magnificence of the piazzas. The best of the piazzas was the Piazza del Duomo with its powerful cathedral and the Elephant Fountain. The elephant is the symbol of Catania, although the exact reason is shrouded in mystery and folklore. Another fountain, the Fountaina dell’Amano, a beautiful white marble affair, sits in one corner of the Piazza next to via Giuseppe Garibaldi, another street of some renown. The fountain is one of the points where the Amenano River can be seen. It flows beneath the city in three arms. Originally it was a surface river but volcanic eruptions in 242BC and 1669 covered the river over. Beyond the fountain is the noise, bustle and smell of the famous fish markets of Catania. The smell is powerful but fresh and all the fish looks to be in top condition. The sellers yell and scream, whether they are battling each other or appealing to customers is unclear but it adds to the atmosphere. We watched a guy shelling small prawns by hand and the rate of about one a second and a couple of other guys butchering a huge swordfish.

A short distance down via Giuseppe Garibaldi we found a travel agent that does tours of Mount Etna to book a trip for Sunday. The young girl in the office was so entertaining and her description of the tour was a real performance. Later, we asked about hop on hop off bus tours but she was scornful and said we didn’t need it. She produced a map of Catania and proceeded to circle things and give the most amazing description of what there was to see and how to reach things. Her talents are so wasted in an office. We left the office with tickets for an Etna tour and a heads full of knowledge about what next to explore.

The Greek-Roman Theatre is a typical semi-circular stone outdoor theatre first built around 500BC by the Greeks then built on to by the Romans in the 1^st and 2^nd Centuries. Over the years it has been partially built over or covered and subsequently uncovered. Today it is in a condition that allows it to be used for regular performances. The lower sections of the seating is in marble and the upper sections in lava rock (bringing a cushion to sit on would be a must). At its height it catered for an audience of 7000. We enjoyed exploring the labyrinths and storage areas behind the scenes and underneath the seating areas. It is incredible to think of the story behind this place, interwoven with some of the great events of history and bound up with the eruptions of Mount Etna over the centuries. It is also sad that so much of one of the great buildings of antiquity was so carelessly built over during the 19^th and early 20^th Centuries.

The Greco-Roman Theatre in Catania

We pushed on to the Castello Ursina, a 13^th Century castle and now a museum. When it was first built it was on a cliff overlooking the sea but it is now a kilometer inland after lava flows from Mount Etna and a series of earthquakes changed the landscape. Even the original moat was filled in with a lava flow in 1693. It is quite amazing where humans choose to live.

On the way home back up the long stretch of via Etnea, we stopped off at the huge sprawl of street markets that fill the streets and alleyways off the main street. If we had more luggage space it would be possible to buy a lot of very cheap clothing and shoes at these markets. Bathers are particularly prominent and one can see two piece sets for as low as 6€ a set. It is a teenager’s dream.

Mount Etna

Our trip to Mount Etna was wonderful, one of the highlights of the trip so far. A very funny and chatty guide picked us up from our apartment in a not so new Nissan 4 wheel drive and we squeezed in along with a young French couple and a young Italian couple. The guide, Andreas, talked non-stop on the drive up the mountain. He had to really because he had to say everything three times, in Italian, French and English. Like all Italians, he spoke with his hands and made plenty of eye contact the whole time. The trouble was he was driving! He was a real riot but I must admit he did seem to know where he was going and the poor exhibition of attentive driving never seemed to put us in danger so we just accepted it.

The drive took us to the South Base Camp at about 2000m above sea level. Along the way we stopped once to look out over the view of Catania below us. As we got back in the car, the rain started and by the time we got to the Base Camp it was pelting down. Fortunately, we had been advised to take jackets against cold winds and we had packed raincoats with hoods so we just set off anyway. It was cold when the wind was up but the rain eased as we climbed up to the first set of craters. The whole scene is like a lunar landscape, excepting the odd bits of low vegetation and a few cafes and small pubs that service the tourists. There are several accessible craters (not currently active) in the immediate area and an enormous lava flow that snakes down the mountain and stops at the road, right next to one of the pubs. The surrounding area is a mixture of black loose volcanic soil and ash, hard jagged lava flows and iron stained basalt that glows a beautiful shade of red. That marks the furthest extent of the flow of 2011. We climbed on foot up another 200m of altitude along a path carved out of the volcanic ash to look down into a larger crater. The climb was challenging and the descent, down a narrow path of very loose material even more so. Christine was very controlled and only screamed a few times.

As we got back into the car, a thick cloud descended on us, cutting visibility to only a few metres. Andreas drove very slowly, avoiding pedestrians as they materialized out of the heavy fog until eventually the mist cleared and we were able to reach the next destination. We stopped at the entrance to a small lava cave. It had been formed in the 1972 eruption but only discovered when road works after the 2011 eruption uncovered it. We donned hard hats and got torches to climb down beneath the roadway and into the tunnel. Much of the wall was smooth, apparently the result of lava cooling then re-melting in a later eruption and in some places there was a distinct yellow staining indicating the presence of sulphur. The roof of the cave was filled with stalactite type formations which were actually solidified drips of molten lava. We could only go a short distance before an eight metre drop halted us. There are over 200 known lava caves dotted around the mountain.

Exploring Mt Etna

After the cave we pushed on, stopping at a vantage point to look out over the Valle del Bove, a huge valley on the East slope which is an enormous caldera or collapsed volcano. A gigantic magma flow is the main feature, a lot of it created during the big eruption of 1793. At the carpark to the lookout, Andreas, knowing we were Australian, pointed out the National Park rules on a sign that depicted a kangaroo on a leash and stated that it was forbidden to bring exotic animals into the park. What made them pick on a kangaroo is anyone’s guess.

As we descended the mountain, we made a final stop at a village produce outlet to sample local Sicilian produce. We normally hate this part of any tour, mainly included to get a commission payment for the driver. This one was different and we spent a great half hour wandering around sampling different honeys, amazing olive oils with a variety of infusions, some interesting liqueurs, wines, pesto and other assorted tasty morsels. Often you can’t think about buying anything because you don’t want to lug a large container of stuff around as you travel but they made small quantities of the produce available at very reasonable prices. We bought some Pistachio Liqueur, a beautiful pesto sauce and some rosemary infused olive oil.

All in all we had a fantastic day, well worth the 55€ each for the day. I’ve always wondered why humans would choose to live on the slopes of an active volcano and suffer the death and destruction that occurs at intervals throughout history but I guess it is different when you are born and bred in the area. As Andreas put it, Catanese regard Etna as “The Mountain”, a lady of different moods. The extreme richness of the soil and agricultural areas shows how the volcano repays its debts.

Syracuse

We had one more day to use on excursions from Catania and it basically fell into a choice between Taormina and Syracuse. Both offered incredible history and beautiful old towns, Syracuse more so but Taormina offered the amazing coastal views. Andreas, our guide on the Entna tour, along with the Italian couple on the tour, voted for Syracuse. Andreas felt that Taormina was worth a half day at best and didn’t offer nearly as much as Syracuse. We had at least seen the gorgeous coastline and Bay of Taormina from the train on the trip from Messina so we took their advice and went to Syracuse. We came home exhausted but far from disappointed.

The local bus system in Catania let us down badly (as usual). We waited at a bus stop in via Etnea for 40 minutes without a sign of a bus. Other people came and sat, then just gave up and left. A guy at the botanical garden next door just said that the buses were very unreliable and shrugged his shoulders. In the end we walked a kilometre down via Etnea and got on the new Metro system to travel one stop and get out at Giovanni XXIII Station near the rail and bus station. Then we spent half an hour wandering around asking people about a bus to Syracuse. One ticket seller had a sign up saying “Urban Bus Tickets only. No advice given.” I shuddered as Christine went and asked him about Syracuse. She was lucky, given the sign, to just get a sharp reply of “No!” Finally, we found that the regional buses left from another bus station about 200m away, bought our ticket and just made a bus, leaving Catania just under two hours after leaving home.

The 55kms between Catania and Syracuse is largely filled with heavy industry on the coast and mixed agriculture further inland. The volcanic influence can still be seen in the soil and things grow very well. As we drove into Syracuse, I started to question whether we had made the right choice because we weren’t seeing much more than blocks of apartments, shopping centres and some large areas of vacant land filled with weeds. Even when we got out of the bus and walked the length of Corso Umberto towards the island of Ortigia, which houses the medieval part of the city, things failed to impress. Once over the bridge and onto the island, it changed for the better.

By this time it was midday so we decided to sit, relax, have a beer and share a pizza. A table of Aussies were next to us so we exchanged a few “Oi Oi Ois”. It was tempting to just settle in for the day and get back on the bus later but we had some serious exploring to do.

Syracuse was one of the most important of ancient Greek cities, certainly amongst those outside of Greece itself. The great mathematician and scientist Archimedes was one of its famous inhabitants, killed in Syracuse during the Roman invasion of 212BC. We checked out the ruins of a Temple to Apollo, Greek in origin and built in 570BC, marvelling at the sheer age of the structure and the skill of the stone masons. Over the years, the temple had been repurposed as Byzantine church, an Islamic Mosque, a Norman church and Spanish barracks. Another amazing example of this repurposing of Greek temples can be found in the beautiful cathedral Santa Maria delle Colonne. The magnificent baroque church is built around the Temple of Athena from Greek times and the Doric columns of the temple can still be seen embedded in the walls of the church.

Ortigia Island, Syracuse

We strolled along the beautiful Foro Italico, a seaside promenade and admired the beautiful freshwater spring and pond called the Fonte Arethusa, only one of two places in Europe where papyrus reeds grow wild. Some small shops around the area featured paintings on papyrus grass paper.

Unfortunately, the major attractions of Syracuse are spilt into two areas, the Ortigia Island area and the Archaeological Park area a couple of kilometres inland. Both need visiting but the distance apart is an issue. We solved the problem with a “Hop On Hop Off Bus”. We have avoided these things of late because they usually represent very poor value for money. Not so with this one, a mere 5€ buying a whole day of touring with English commentary. They are also frequent with a regular 30 minute interval, so we headed for Piazza Archimedes and hopped on.

On alighting at the Archaeological Park we looked around for the entrance. Eventually, on the far side of the car park there was a sign advertising tickets. We entered to find a young man seated behind a glass screen reading his phone and looking bored. No sign was evident to tell us the entrance cost. He barely looked up and said “10€ each”. We did a jaw drop and offered a 50€ note but he waved his hand and shook his head. It was 2pm so what the hell had he done with the other takings if he couldn’t change a 50? We reluctantly gave him a 20€ note, leaving us without change. He grunted and pushed two tickets under the screen and went back to his phone. “What? No map or information?” He shook his head. We left, muttering about a crap 20€ spent. Outside, we realized we had no idea of where to go next. No signs, no maps, nothing. We went back in and asked but he just shrugged and said, “No, nothing.” We had to leave the car park, cross a major road and head down a driveway to find the entrance, where we found we could have bought the same tickets anyway. Still no maps, and as we were to find later, no signage in English either. I think they have missed something here.

The attractions inside the Archaeological Park are wonderful. The main feature is a huge Greek Theatre, in good enough condition to be still used today, although wooden planks cover the stone decks of old to preserve our modern buttocks. The original theatre was built in 470BC and was one of the largest and most important in the Greek world. It catered for 15,000 spectators. Incredibly, the theatre was not built up from stone blocks but actually carved out of solid limestone. The seating therefore is one huge solid piece. Given the current controversy about Perth’s new stadium it is mind blowing that the Greeks could have achieved this 2,500 years ago.

Syracuse Archaeological Park – The Greek Theatre

Underneath the theatre is an area with ancient quarries and a couple of huge caverns. It has never really been established whether the caverns are natural or man made but the largest and most spectacular, the Ear of Dionysis, is most probably natural, caused by water seepage many millennia ago. It served as a prison in ancient times and had amazing acoustic properties, which along with the shape of the entrance leads to the name.

Syracuse Archaeological Park – Ear of Dyonisis, Roman Amphitheatre and the Rope Maker’s Cavern

Another theatre is a Roman amphitheatre, built in the 1^st Century. It is not as big as the one on Catania nor as well preserved as the one on Verona but it is certainly impressive. The Romans built the amphitheatre out of carved blocks, unlike the Greek one and it has shown a lot more erosion. Surprisingly, there appears to have been no effort made to control weed growth in and around the ruins. I would have thought some carefully controlled use of herbicides and gardening would have been in order.

Collectively, the ruins represent an amazing experience that enhances an appreciation of the life of the ancients. They managed to create so much with so little but the thing that always strikes me is the sheer sense of determination in their endeavours.

We managed to just catch a bus as we left the park and had a short walk back to the main bus station for a bus back to Catania. Most of that ride was spent asleep after all the walking. By the time we had caught a metro to a station about 1km further up via Etnea from our apartment and walked down the hill to home we had covered just on 10km for the day. Syracuse was done and dusted, definitely a must see when in Sicily.

Palermo 18-21 July

Not wanting to trust the buses again, we walked a kilometre to the Metro station and then on to the rail station for a train to Palermo. The train trip was fast and comfortable, with no fires across the tracks, and took about three hours. The countryside along the way was quite beautiful. In the early stages, we got changing views of Mount Etna as the route skirted around its base. There seemed to be more smoke issuing forth than there had been on previous days. Once into the interior of Sicily, the country became quite reminiscent of Australia, the brown fields of newly cut hay mixed with very common plantings of eucalyptus trees adding to the effect. With the numerous hills and valleys it bought to mind parts of NSW inland of the Blue Mountains.

Once in Palermo, we tossed up how to get to our apartment, more than a walk away from the station. We had directions for the bus and knew we needed a 101 bus to Poliamentia-Liberta bus stop. The 101 was easy to find, they were common. How to buy a ticket was more of a puzzle. We got on one bus and Christine went to buy a ticket from the driver. “No” and he pointed vaguely to a building. I got off with the bags but the doors shut and the bus started off, with Christine still on board. She had to shout at the driver to open the doors and let her off. Christine took off with some American girls to locate the ticket office. There wasn’t one but they did find the newsagent that sold them. Back with tickets, we tried to get on the next bus, behind the American girls but it filled up and we couldn’t manage with our big backpacks so we got off again. We got on the next bus and took off. As we went, we realised that there was no signage to indicate bus stops so all we could do was use Google Maps and wait until we got close enough to get off and walk. I don’t know how people managed to travel before Google Maps. Finally, we found the place, met Carmello, the host, and settled in to what was a large and comfortable apartment. We even have rooms we won’t bother to use.

After unpacking (getting a little sick of that operation) we walked a block to via Liberta, one of the main drags in Palermo and settled down at a gorgeous little restaurant for some fried mozzarella cheese, potato frittas and bruchetta, all washed down with a beer of course. Then it was off to the supermarket to stock up and home to bed. Life is definitely catching up of late and the bones and feet are protesting somewhat.

Palermo is very reminiscent of Spain, possibly because of its history. It has been described as the most conquered city in Europe and almost every foreign power has controlled it at some point in history. The Arab influence is present and has even returned to some extent with the influx of refugees from Libya and Tunisia in recent years. It had a golden age in the 12^th Century when under the control of Norman invaders.

Around Palermo

We found Palermo to be very busy, crowded and the traffic was terrible. The road system fails to support the number of cars. The bus system is chaotic and we found our experience of the first day was repeated on other routes. The crowds on the buses are terrible and people don’t seem to make way for others or consider their needs. We saw elderly people struggle to get through the crowd so they could get off. They are developing underground Metro systems and tramways but these have a way to go.

Near our apartment, the large arterial via Liberta ran for most of the length of the modern part of the city and provided a lovely tree lined avenue filled with high fashion shops and other places that hold little attraction for us. However, it was lovely to stroll along when the temperature allowed. There are several large piazzas spread around the city and some buildings of note, but much of the older town was destroyed in WWII and was not rebuilt.

The city is surrounded by towering peaks, one beautiful massive marking the western end of the Bay of Palermo. Beyond that is Mondello, famed for its long white sand beach. We took a crushing 30 minute bus ride to Mondello for a day at the beach. So did everyone else! The beach was the best we have encountered so far in Italy but it was VERY crowded. So much of the beach is given up to private hirers who charge 15-25€ per person for a spot amongst the sea of umbrellas and bathing huts. We strolled the length of the bay before returning and selecting an area of public beach where we could dump our stuff and access the water without treading on bodies. The water was clean, warm and not nearly as crowded as the sand. Not all that many people actually get wet.

Cefalu

On our last day in Sicily, we had a day to kill, having left our apartment but the boat to Naples not leaving until 8pm, so we decided to spend the day in Cefalu, a seaside town about an hour’s train journey to the east of Palermo. Our host was able to store our bags for the day so we headed off, once more on the local bus to the central train station. As before, the bus was impossibly crowded. At one point, I had two guys sandwiching me. I actually felt the zip on my shorts pocket slide down. I turned quickly and a guy in a black shirt eased away through the crowd to the door and alighted at the next stop. After being pick pocketed while in a bus line in Rimini, I keep my wallet on a lanyard anyway but this was yet another attempt. Later, while boarding another very crowded bus on the way back, I felt a movement on my backpack and when we got on board we found the zip undone. I suppose it can be seen as good practice for Naples!

The train journey was very beautiful, following the coastline along many headlands and lovely little bays and beaches. As we pulled into Cefalu, it looked an absolute picture, with a prominent high headland, a cluster of stone buildings hugging the low cliffs and a sweeping white sand beach filled with umbrellas. The train station is mercifully close to the town itself and we spent a fascinating hour exploring the narrow streets and walkways, stopping to admire some of the more notable buildings. The cathedral or duomo dominates, as they do in most European cities. The town had a healthy population of tourists but not so many as to make moving around difficult.

We stopped at a shady restaurant overlooking the beach for lunch and ordered a Sicilian platter to share and got a wonderful mix of meats, smoked salmon, a couple of fresh oysters and salad, with a basket of ultra fresh bread to help it down. It was the perfect mix; especially with a four hop beer (we don’t usually count the hops).

Fed and watered, we hit the beach, hiring an umbrella with a couple of lounges to spend a few lazy hours, swimming, dozing and reading. It was nowhere near as crowded as Mondello Beach and the water was much better, crystal clear and a perfect temperature.

Beautiful Cefalu

By the time we had caught a train, followed by a bus, back to the apartments to collect our gear we were fairly done in but we managed to re-organise our beach stuff and load up the big packs for the kilometre walk down to the ferry for embarkation to Naples. We boarded about 7pm, found our neat little cabin and had a much needed shower before finding a bite to eat. It was all we could do to stay out on deck to watch the ship leave harbour at 8:15 before retiring to our cabin. Naples awaits, but not before we have had a damn good sleep.

GALLERIES:

Southern Italy 2017

July 14, 2017 / terry

Bari, Italy, 8-10 July

The 8 hour crossing of the Adriatic Sea from Bar in Montenegro was comfortable and suitably boring. The seas were dead flat and the boat (Dubrovnik) was only at around 15% capacity so we were pretty much free to wander anywhere. We had booked recliner seats for a few euros more and they proved good to catch up on some sleep, although I suspect we could have used them without paying because there were so few passengers and no one ever checked our tickets. Once out of sight of Montenegro there was little to see other than the occasional fishing boat or yacht and we pulled into Bari on time at 7:20pm. There was a brief moment of panic at immigration after Christine had gone though when the man played around with my passport for a while then referred me on to someone else. I worried that they were going to do a count of the number of days we had been in the EU (we are only permitted 90 days). An accounting would show we were OK but it would come right down to the wire. In the end, I think the first guy just couldn’t find the right stamp and I was sent through without an issue.

A taxi took us to the City Hotel, a small boutique type of thing that was clean and pretty. The bathroom was designed for a fashion model with a toilet you had to sit sideways on and a shower recess that was like one of those magician’s boxes that they fold up and make you disappear in. The only large object was the hand basin which took up more room than everything else.

We had few expectations of Bari, assuming it was a dirty noisy port city. However, we were proved wrong. Our hotel lay just outside the high fashion shopping area, filled with Gucci, Prada and the like, while lovely open pedestrian malls led down to the old section along the waterfront. The huge castle (Il Fortino Di Sant’Antonio), dating from the 11^th Century, dominated one end and a maze of tangled tiny streets worked their way through to the Piazza Mercanti at the other. Once again, we had only a Sunday to explore the town and it was shut up so tight it was difficult to buy even a bottle of water. The old town area was busy though and around 50% of the shops and eateries operating. As the day wore on, a lot of the fashion shops also opened but the small markets and supermarkets remained closed.

We spent a couple of hours exploring the tiny streets of the old town. One fascinating street was lined with women sitting at tables making a local kind of pasta, using semolina, hand mixing the dough and hand forming each small shell. It then sat for a while in little racks to dry a bit before being packed into plastic bags. Later, for dinner, we sampled some of this local food, in a rich tomato based sauce and served with a little roll of richly spiced beef (like a beef wellington). It was really good, my biggest regret was that the beef thing wasn’t twice the size because it was so delicious. We also had a white wine to accompany the meal and a red at a café later. Both were local Puglia wines and of excellent quality, much appreciated after the very coarse and harsh wines of Croatia and Montenegro.

Bari is not a place that I would mark down as a must see but it is also not a place to be avoided if circumstances bring you this way. With its ferry connections to different parts of the Adriatic, it has its uses.

Villapiana Lido 10-12 July

A bus took us from Bari south west through Puglia down towards the “heel” of Italy and then across the “instep” to Calabria. There was no train route suitable, the line from Taranto along the coast having ceased passenger services. We decided to break our trip and stay a couple of days on the holiday coast at Villapiana Lido to enjoy the relaxed atmosphere of an Italian beach resort area. No such luck. What we got was a run down semi-deserted coastal backwater that had once been one of the “in places” but now was a forest of for sale signs and boarded up shops. The beach areas were filled with umbrellas and sun lounges with a lot of cafes and restaurants but a great many were closed down or shut. This is July and one would suppose it is high season. August is the really big month but I would have expected more. There was no sign of life at the many fun fairs and amusement parks set up along the beach area. I am glad we don’t have investments here.

Our accommodation was a neat B&B run by really nice people, very keen to please but having even less English than we had Italian. The room was OK and met our needs, there was a lovely shared area downstairs and a kitchen for guest use upstairs. The main problem was communication but after Christine showed them Google translate and the voice function we actually managed a fun and informative conversation with the owners. As always, they got a lot more friendly with us when they realized that we were Australian and not British or American. The breakfast is unusual by any standards. Cereal is supplied, but no milk or yoghurt is in evidence, or even cereal bowls. Ham slices in a very dry bun seems to be the main fare, although there is usually a variety of sweet cakes. The couple comes in to shout at us and ask if we need anything, which is sweet but they can’t understand our reply anyway. The strange thing is that none of the other younger guests can understand English either, whereas we have usually found that the younger generation speak some English. This is the first town we have stayed in where we have not found anyone to speak English. Maybe this is a difference between northern and southern Italy?

Next door is a great little bar that serves cold tap beer and pizza but by this time we were looking for more than pizza, something a little different even. For the second town running we walked the streets desperately trying to find somewhere to eat that served something other than pizza, failing in the end and having pizza back at the pub next door. The guy who ran the bar was very helpful and our combined five words of English and five of Italian got us through. Based on the number of people we saw on the beaches there are quite a few tourists staying in Villapiana but I’m not sure what they find to eat or where they find it, unless they are happy to eat nothing but pizza. The second night we headed down to the beach area, where it appeared that there were more restaurants available. There were certainly more people around and a lot more pizza and panini restaurants but little with a diverse menu. Finally, we found one that offered some fish and pasta selections and was decked out as an actual restaurant. It was 7:15pm but the place was empty. Eventually, we asked some girls who were setting tables. They looked at us as though we were aliens and said there wouldn’t be anything until at least 8pm. We had a delicious hamburger from a roadside bus.

Buying a train ticket out of town proved just as difficult. We found the train station but it was overgrown with weeds. There was a timetable posted, supposedly current based on the dates displayed but it only showed the times for the route back towards Taranto. The other half had been torn down. While we were looking, a loud speaker came to life and blared something about the train so we figured there was something happening. Our walk had taken us past a Tourist Information building so we went back to it and entered. A woman barked at us and I understood enough to know that she could not give tourist assistance and there was no tourist assistance. We typed in a question about trains in Google Translate and she mimed smoking a cigarette and pointed down the road so we figured we had to go and find a tabacchi. Sure enough, the tabacchi down the road sold tickets and with our limited Italian and the guys limited English we secured two tickets on a bus which later transferred to a train at Sibari, the next town down the line. I think that might have been what the blaring loudspeaker message was telling us.

Once again, the beach failed the appeal test. The only shade available within any reach of the water are the very expensive sea of rental umbrellas and lounges that so predominate on European beaches. At least the beach had some sand, dull grey/brown rather than white, but better than the usual expanse of rocks and pebbles. We walked down to the water twice, trying to build up enthusiasm for a dip, but the place simply failed to attract. There is nothing like a trip abroad to bring home just how good Australian, a WA beaches in particular, are. Places like Cottesloe and Scarborough (especially after it gets cleaned up) would have to be amongst the very best in the World.

Unfortunately, we got into a bit of a fight with the owners over our bill. We had booked a larger deluxe room through Booking.com on a special for the same price as a standard room. However, they only gave us a standard room. With difficulty, due to language problems, we got across the issue and agreed to keep the standard room with a 30€ refund. The owners seemed happy but when the son arrived he tried to argue the case. He simply didn’t have a case and eventually agreed, paying up but clearly unhappy. The whole thing seemed to result in a family fight with the owner couple being on our side. We had the power because we get to write a review on Booking.com but the thing left a bit of a sour taste. There is a bit of a problem with amateur hoteliers with little experience of the industry trying to set up shop using online services without really understanding the implications of offering specials and deals.

It doesn’t require much in the way of hindsight to know that Villapiana Lido was a poor choice as a stop over. The awful thing is that it appeared to be a big improvement on the other towns along this part of the Calabrian coast that we saw from the bus. Oh well, you win some and lose some.

Reggio Calabria 12-14 July

We said our farewells to the family at the B&B in Villapiana and set off with packs loaded to catch a bus to Sibari. The weather was promising a real scorcher, with temperatures over 35 degrees and high humidity. The bus was fifteen minutes late but it could have been a lot worse and there was about an hour to kill at Sibari anyway. The trip along the coast showed us that we could have been staying in far worse places than Villapiana Lido and even Sibari did not look much better.

Our 9 hour trip from Villapiana Lido to Reggio Calabria

The train was waiting for us in the station. No sleek electric train here, although the lines were overhead. The train consisted of an ancient single carriage diesel engine railcar. We checked that it was the right one (it was the only one) a climbed aboard into a furnace. A couple of Trenitalia workers came on board and they couldn’t believe the heat, advising us to move to the front half of the carriage where it was hot rather than searing. A few other passengers boarded and we set off. It has been a long time since I have heard a diesel railcar work its way through the gears rather than the sweet hum of an all electric train and I found that was in no way nostalgic.

Outside, the scenery was of dry grass and hills dotted with olive groves and vineyards. Everything baked in the heat and a pall of brown smoke from scrub fires hung over everything. There seemed to be fires burning along ridges and along road verges, mostly unchecked and certainly there was no sign of any fire fighting equipment. The train stopped at a dilapidated siding called Spezzano where it sat for a while before there were shouted words about getting off the train. A fire was burning on the tracks ahead of us and it appeared there was little to do except watch it burn itself out. A handful of orange jacketed workers were in attendance but they lacked anything to fight the fire with so they watched it burn. With the engine still running and the pretend air conditioner making it at least cooler than the outside, we headed back aboard to nap and await events. It seemed unlikely we would make our next connection at Castiligone Cosentino anyway.

I had fallen asleep when jolted awake and told we were getting on a bus. The bus was modern and comfortable, except for the lack of air conditioning and we drove some 60kms or so past many small fires and little towns in various states of decay before finally being deposited in a place called Cosenza. Here the station was filled with people, all brought together by the need to catch a train, any train. A group of Americans were in the same predicament as us except they were headed back the way we had come, trying to get to Sibari. No one seemed to actually know what was happening. One train came and went but we were told “No!” when we said we were trying to make Reggio Calabria and eventually another arrived and there was at least partial agreement that we should take it. Off we went on a fast train, the stations flashing by. I fell asleep again. When I awoke, I checked Google Maps. Damn! We were screamed north towards Napoli. After consulting the conductor, Christine learnt enough to get us off the train at Scalea where we could start riding south again. We had an hour to wait for the next train and the heat was worse. By this time, we had had access to one shared bottle of water and no access to a toilet. The station had a small café so water was replenished, along with a cold beer and a toilet located, although I had to interrupt the clothes washing routine of the local itinerant population to wash my hands.

Finally, we got on to a train headed south and sat down. Still not 100% certain we were right I asked a young couple sitting opposite if we were headed to Reggio Calabria. I had thought they were Italian but to my surprise they both answered with London accents and told us that we were but we needed one more change further down the track. They were going the same way so we could tag along with them. Our saviors! It turned out that both Frederico and Andrea were Italian but had been studying in London and hence the accents. They certainly had excellent English and were the first English speakers we had encountered for quite a few days. We were so grateful to meet such a delightful and helpful young couple, especially in our hour of need.

When we finally arrived at Reggio Calabria, we had been travelling about 9 hours to cover around 250kms, a nightmare of a day. Fortunately, our accommodation was a mere 100m down the road from the station entrance, a lovely little apartment called Central House B&B. The host met us and showed us around, we found some delicious takeaway eats around the corner, watched an episode of “House of Cards” and collapsed into bed exhausted.

We spent a day in Reggio Calabria but there is very little to see or do. The town is plain by any standards and certainly by Italian standards, with no fine piazzas or grand vistas. We walked many of the streets but found little to be impressed with, other than a large fort and a couple of churches. Its only claims can be a pretty view of Sicily across the Straits of Messina and a beach side promenade known as Lungomare Falcomata, which extends north to the beach area. We tried to access the start of the promenade at the railway end, finding a pedestrian tunnel running under the rail lines to the water. On reaching the entrance, we halted, the stench of urine and faeces being overpowering. Rubbish was piled along the sides of the tunnel and used condoms lay everywhere. It being the only way through we could see, we crossed through, feeling very uncomfortable and started walking along the broad expanse of the promenade. It was very unkempt and a pack of stray dogs lay in the shade ahead of us. Further on, a couple seemed to be having a heavy domestic argument. We went back the way we had come. Instead, we caught a train up to Reggio Calabrio Lido, the beach area, using another ancient diesel railcar like the previous day to travel the couple of kilometres. The beach area was beautiful and actually looked inviting, although the beachside resorts themselves looked rather run-down. We walked on to check out tickets for the ferry to Sicily, finding that easy and cheap at a mere 3€ each. Because we had an hour and a half to kill to catch a train back the short distance, we hunted down a restaurant, finding a great little place called Benny’s which served really good bruschetta and paninis (with a cold beer of course).

Unfortunately, the rubbish problem in Reggio Calabria is severe and it would be the dirtiest city we have encountered so far in Europe. Litter is everywhere and we saw people just openly discarding empty cigarette packets and lunch wrappers. Plastic bottles piled up in the gutters and rubbish bins overflowed. It was such a contrast to Bari, a similar sized port city, where everything was neat and tidy. Traffic flow is also bad, with drivers showing little regard for pedestrian crossings which we have found are usually respected. We went for a walk around the neighborhood looking for a supermarket and found ourselves turning around and changing direction several times because the street ahead had that “unsafe” look about it, once again the first time we have had that kind of experience on this trip.

Reggio Calabria is not a place that warrants visiting for any real reason other than as a jumping off point to Sicily. We are looking forward to some more interesting times when we cross to Sicily. Calabria has failed to excite.

GALLERIES:

Bari

Villapiana Lido

Reggio Calabria

Montenegro, 2017

July 9, 2017 / terry

Kotor 28 June – 3 July 2017

Our bus trip from Vela Luka on Korcula, Croatia to Kotor, Montenegro proved to be our worst leg of the whole trip to date. We had tossed up about whether to catch a bus or use ferries to move down the coast but the bus trip looked to be much easier and quicker, involving a trip out of Vela Luka at 5:15am to Kotor, where the bus boarded the car ferry to the mainland (with us still sitting in the bus), then on to Dubrovnik. That part went well and we were in Dubrovnik shortly before 10am with an hour or so to wait for the next bus to Kotor. 11am came and went, with a large crowd standing around at Bay 3 waiting. 11:30 came and went with the same crowd getting more and more bored. A couple of people made enquiries but all got the same answer, “I think the bus is delayed.” Eventually, the bus arrived and two very frazzled looking drivers emerged to check tickets and check in bags. This leg of the journey involved a border crossing, from Croatia into Montenegro. It was relatively simple with one of the drivers collecting all passports, while checking that faces matched, and taking them to be processed while we all stayed on the bus. They were returned stamped and we were ready to go. The problem was that it took an hour in a slow queue to actually reach the point where the office was and then we had to repeat the process again two hundred metres down the road to enter Montenegro. By this time, we were two hours behind our scheduled arrival time. Add to that another 30 minutes waiting for a traffic accident to clear and we rolled into Kotor very much later than planned.

The traffic accident had caused a traffic jam so bad that cars were at a crawl for kilometres, right past the bus station. We faced a 2km walk to our apartment and had planned to taxi it but we could see that they were going nowhere so we saddled up the packs and walked along the beach, finding the chance to stretch the legs after the hours in the bus quite handy and the walk proved easy. Having left Croatia, our mobile phones would not work and we had no way of contacting our host so we just walked to where we thought the place was and relied on our memories of what it looked like from the images on the Internet. Sure enough, we recognized the lane that led to the three level set of apartments and Alexsandra was waving to us from the top to welcome us in. We have a small but comfortable apartment close to the water and within easy walking of a large shopping centre and the old fortress town. We were soon settled in.

Montenegro is a small country, once part of the now dissolved Yugoslavia. Over the centuries it has been variously controlled by Greeks, Romans, Byzantines , Turks and Venetians. In more recent times, it was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Although not part of the EU it uses the Euro as its currency (much to the chagrin of the EU bankers) but prices here are much lower than in the EU itself. Its most famous tourist feature is the beautiful Bay of Kotor, a large fjiord carved out of the Dinaric Alps that towers over all sides of the bay. The area is one of the wettest parts of Europe and where there is enough flat land there are pockets of lush, dense forest. The place has a very different look and feel to the Croatian coastline that we have moved through over the last three weeks.

We have Kotor Beach right in front of our apartment and it is well patronized. The beach is a mixture of pebble beach and concrete walls but it lacks the inspiration and crystal clarity of the Croatian beaches. The main problem is the presence of algae, lots of the green type. It must have something to do with the fact that Kotor is at the end of a 28km deep inlet and the water does not cycle as much as the places exposed to the open sea. It looks a bit like swimming at Mandurah. Lots of people do it but it does not look inviting. Despite some very hot weather, we didn’t actually go for a swim during our time in Kotor.

Our apartment and Kotor Town

The old town is another medieval walled town, not as imposing as Trogir or Dubrovnik but impressive none the less. The most amazing feature is a 5km fortified wall that rises almost vertically up the mountain behind the city across terrain that it so steep and rocky that the thought of anybody attacking it is crazy. It ends in a fortress high above the town. Groups of people can be seen straggling up the twisting walls and paths to reach the fortress but this time we decided that we would leave it be. So far, we have climbed most challenges but the days are getting hotter and this climb just looks awful. Inside the walls is a network of very narrow lanes and alleyways that can defeat even the locals. There are a number of small churches, mostly Serbian-Orthodox with amazing murals and gold leaf icons adorning the walls. For some reason that is beyond us, the churches don’t have pews, just an altar and a big open space. We don’t pretend to be experts when it comes to churches.

Kotor is a favorite with the cruise ships because the water is very deep right up to the very front of the old town. The day we arrived we actually walked right under the overhanging bow of a monstrous ship that was berthed nose in to the town. It is an amazing sight but makes movement around the small town a tad chaotic when an extra 2000 passengers descend on the place. The cruise ships come in all shapes and sizes, from the 8 storey monsters to the beautiful sleek wooden three masted ships that look like they never actually use the sails. The large ones are full of carers and wheel chair ramps while the smaller ones have railings covered in beach towels and decks filled with bikini clad girls. Some of the smaller boats have a deck load of bicycles as well, although the thought of cycling around terrain like Montenegro or Croatia does nothing for me. Whatever, there seems to be a cruise designed for everyone and there are lots of people being employed along the way.

Kotor Town

We took a taxi-boat ride around the Bay or Kotor, taking in a few of the sights. It was a centre consul speedboat about 6 metres long and got places in a hurry. The water was calm in most places except for one narrow neck where the tide was against the wind but later we headed outside the bay to the open Adriatic coast to visit the Blue Cave. The swell had been very big a few days before and the skipper was uncertain whether we could manage this part of the tour. The swell proved moderate and not too uncomfortable until we got close to the cliffs, where the waves bounced back and created some very disturbed water. We approached a low hole in the cliffs which looked too low slung to allow us entry but after waiting for the right lull in the waves the skipper gunned us forward and suddenly we were inside the cave, a small cave by any standards with a second but even smaller entrance towards the rear. Our boat could manage small tight circles inside the cave to show off the main attraction. The water is crystal clear and the sea floor near the entrance is pure white sand so the sunlight coming through reflects from the sand in the most amazing shade of blue, as though it has been created by a bank of artificial lights. It is very beautiful and worth the heart stopping moment of entry. Getting out was equally exciting and we had to congratulate the skills of the skipper.

Back inside Kotor Bay we visited a couple of submarine tunnels dug into the cliffs by the Germans during WWII to house U-Boats. Our boat entered two of the tunnels, which were used after the war by the Soviets up until Yugoslavia broke up. Now they are just used as tourist attractions.

Watch a short video of the Blue Cave and Submarine Tunnels

We stopped for about half an hour on a small island that housed a church and small shop. The Island is called Our Lady of the Sea and legend has it that it was created over many years by fishermen throwing rocks into the sea or sinking old ships filled with rocks on the spot. It would take a lot of time, effort and rocks but having seen lots of evidence to show that humans are capable of any kind of crazy thing, especially in the name of religion, the story is plausible.

We really enjoyed the tour, having the chance to see many other towns and villages that are scattered around the vast Bay of Kotor. The Blue Cave experience on its own would have made the trip worthwhile.

The Bay of Kotor

Kotor was a good stay, with a beautiful town area and wonderful scenery fully deserving of its World Heritage status. For us, the biggest disappointment was the poor water quality and the presence of so much algae, putting us off swimming even though there were good crowds at all the popular spots. The town is definitely worth a visit but really does not rate well as a beach destination.

Bar 3-8 July

The bus trip to Bar was worth the drive alone. After deviating to go into Trivat and the International Airport, it hit the coast and drove along the coast through Buvda, Sveti Stefano and Sutomore. The views were absolutely magnificent. Small beach resorts filled every little cove and bay while the bigger cities like Buvda were like a beach club on steroids. The beaches had whole cities of lounges and umbrellas and the waters were teeming with swimmers. Jetskis whizzed around and the sea was criss-crossed with the wakes of small boats. The beautiful Sveti Stefano is a tiny little town perched on a little island only about two hundred metres offshore and joined to the mainland with a spit of white sand. It looks picture perfect. The money seems to be centered around Buvda with some very fancy resorts on the southern side of the city. It was a drive full of interest.

The coastline with Budva and the lovely little town of Sveti Stefan.

We faced a 1.5km walk from the bus station to our apartment through a light industrial area. We reached the general area but had to find our actual apartment because there were a great many apartment blocks that all looked the same. All except one that stood out because it was a sick shade of green, which made it better than the pale grey and concrete cancer look of all the others. It looked like an area that specializes in drive-by shootings and drug deals. Our phones had suddenly decided to be out of credit (we bought a tourist SIM and really can’t understand how it works) so we couldn’t ring our host but we still had data and thankfully he responded to our email. The green building proved to be ours and the inside a huge improvement on the outside. The apartment was spacious, modern and clean, with a view over the harbor area and on towards the beach area.

Bar is totally different to any of the town we have been in so far in Europe. The streets are wide and open. The front walk along the beach area is really expansive and not every open space is filled with restaurant tables. The shopping area of the town is open enough to be able to see what type of shops there are over a hundred metres away, instead of visibility being limited to the next 20 metres of old town. It made us realise just how much we are over “old towns”. Medieval towns are very cute but one can fill up on them. The downside to Bar is that is looks like a city with tooth decay. It presents a great smile but needs more than just a scale and polish. My guess is that most of the buildings date from the communist era and that standards were not really well adhered to. So many buildings now look as though they suffering from a structural rot. It may be that they are fine inside, like ours, but they sure look sick from the outside.

Bar, with the view from our apartment.

We planned to head inland on a day trip to take in the famous Skadar Lake and Podgorica, the capital city of Montenegro. There were a few interesting looking tours offering lunch for the lake but the times and days did not seem to match with us so we decided to take public transport. So it was back to the bus station to check out schedules and look into the trains, which ran from station nearby. The trains proved irregular and gave us a long wait so we opted for the bus, which gave us a medium wait. We watched the big comfy buses come and go, heading off to other parts of the Balkans, until finally our bus arrived, a stumpy little thing that did not look nearly big enough for the massed crowd. Indeed, we had to squeeze into the back seat and gasp for air for the ten minutes or so until the driver decided we needed an air-conditioner. Despite being full, the bus still stopped along the way and people just got on and somehow levered a seat out of nothing. I had a young girl squeeze in between me and the guy next to me (who was manspreading to the max). She was shorter than me which meant that her bare shoulder fitted neatly into my very sweaty armpit. The jolting of the bus gave it a good workout.

Christine kept an eye on Google Maps so we could identify our stop at Virpazar for the lake tour. Unfortunately, the swaying and bumping put us both to sleep and we were caught a bit by surprise when the bus stopped and the driver yelled “V%@#*&” and took off again. It took all of a minute to realise that we should have got off. Damn! Even though we had only paid for a ticket to Virpazar, we stayed on the bus to Podgorica, figuring we could pay extra on arrival. As the bus pushed north, we looked out at the scenes of the lake going by and asked ourselves, “Why did we want to get off anyway?” What is described in the guidebooks as one of the great wilderness areas of Europe and a nature lovers dream looked like a large swamp bordering an even larger stretch of boring water. The teeming masses of birdlife were represented by a single small duck and the extreme biodiversity of the amazing pristine region probably couldn’t be fully appreciated in a single visit anyway. Even the charming little traditional lake boats that take you on a tour looked just like aluminum dinghies with outboards. It was interesting enough but not the sensational destination we had been expecting. We scratched Lake Skadar from our travel plans and decided Podgorica would get more attention.

Lake Skadar in the middle

If we thought Bar was a bit tatty, Podgorica was full on grotty. The bus and train station was a 1.5km walk from the main CBD through some areas that looked like something out of an post-apocalypse movie. The pavements were broken and crumbled or would just come to an end for no apparent reason. Most building were unpainted grey concrete, streaked with rust marks from the obvious rot within. Like Bar, the city was open and the streets wide and straight but it looked very unkempt. The older buildings were all flattened during WWII so almost everything dated from the immediate post war era where style meant nothing. While reasonably affluent during the times of Yugoslavia, Montenegro suffered badly during the Balkan War and the sanctions imposed by the West and so maintenance has simply not occurred. Things were starting to get on track again when the GFC of 2012 hit and sent the country down again. While tourism is bringing in big investments, especially from Russian sources, the money appears to be being spend on the beaches to the north rather than here.

Podgorica

Things improved a bit in the very central part of the city and we found a couple of nice areas and a pretty strip of cafes, where we had a ridiculously cheap lunch, having sandwiches, fries and a couple of beers for 5€ each in a charming al fresco setting. After lunch we wandered down to the Zeta River, through pretty parkland and found a clear water fast flowing stream with a good volume of water. Finally, we headed back to the station to await the train. After the horrible bus ride we decided the train was a better bet. We had spied a train during the bus ride, a sleek modern affair that looked very comfortable. Alas, not all trains are equal and ours was an incredibly grubby and noisy thing without any air-conditioning. The windows were so dirty that you could barely see out of them and photography was only possible though an open window. We slept much of the way, waking every time the train stopped at one of ten tiny sidings, mostly broken down and overgrown with weeds. Hopefully, Montenegro will be brought into the fold of the EU before long and infrastructure will get a much needed financial boost. They need it. By the time we got back to the apartment we had walked just on 8km and were very tired. We decided to forgo our evening walk along the foreshore.

Another big disappointment in Bar was the beach. Bar has a series of beaches stretching north towards Budva from the harbor. They seem to get more and more stony as they go, with the far ones being made up of rocks the size of tennis balls. People still seem to go to them. Closer to the start of the stretch, the stones are more like pebbles and there is sand once you get to the water itself so we opted to go there for a swim. However, the rubbish problem was extreme, with a lot of plastic being washed up or just floating around in the water. Three were also a worrying number of dead fish and squid, indicating that all is not well. It was hot so we went in but refused to put our heads under water. With both Kotor and Bar being ruled out as beach destinations, perhaps Budva would be the place to go for a beach vacation.

We came to Montenegro on a promise of glorious scenery and inexpensive living. The second proved true, especially away from Kotor. The scenery is certainly impressive but no more so than further north in Croatia and the dirt and poor infrastructure detracts from the place considerably. With tourism already playing a big part in Montenegro’s economy, there needs to be some serious attention paid to how things are presented, especially now that the rest of Europe is becoming so environmentally conscious.

We took a ferry out of Bar back across the Adriatic to Bari in Italy, a trip of about 8 hours.

PHOTO GALLERIES:

Kotor

Budva

Bar

Korcula, Croatia, 2017

June 30, 2017 / terry

Vela Luka, Korcula 21-28 June 2017

The trip from Supertar, on Brac, to Vela Luka on the island of Korcula involved two ferries. First, we had to catch the car ferry back to Split then get another car ferry to Vela Luka. The timetable gave us a fifteen minute window to change ferries and the woman at the ticket office was confident that we would make it. The ferry ended up leaving Supertar five minutes late because they waited for a truck, which could be seen in the distance driving like a maniac towards the ferry. Next a car and caravan came screaming around the corner and it too was allowed to board. Still, we docked in Split on time and headed off at a fast hike with heavy backpacks on to consult the departures board for our next ferry. Unfortunately, we found that it was on the far side of the one we had just arrived in so we had to retrace our steps and make our way to the very last wharf in the whole complex. We arrived with about 4 minutes to spare, congratulating each other on our fitness levels but still disappointed to find there were stairs rather than an escalator to climb to the upper passenger decks. In the end, the ferry left 10 minutes late. We have caught enough Adriatic ferries by now that we no longer stand on the rails and take in all the sights of the passing islands and other seafaring craft. We sit inside in the air-conditioning and read. It’s a bit sad really.

The trip to Korcula took three hours, passing Hvar along the way. The trip was very smooth and few of the many yachts that we passed even bothered putting up sails. I was surprised by the size of Hvar Town. It seemed to sprawl along the coast for kilometers and there was even a bit of high rise building in evidence. I have been reading that Hvar has been getting quite a bit of negative publicity lately, mainly due to poor behavior by holidaying British youth, a bit like the Aussies in Bali it seems.

Vela Luka is situated at the end of a long narrow inlet and so is mostly calm and well suited as a small boat harbor. It looked very pretty as the ferry nosed into the wharf area. Once off the boat, it was a little chaotic for a while because for some strange reason, the ferry company chooses to have two ferries in at the same time, both around the same time as the fishing fleet is in and unloading. The car park was crammed with cars and trucks waiting to board for the trip back to Split and we worked our way through them to find Regina, our host. Somehow, in the jumble of cars, we found each other and she bundled us into her car for the ride around the harbor to our apartment. We were grateful that she had come to pick us up, especially as it meant time off work for her, because the walk around would be quite a trek. There is an option of a water taxi but at the time we did not know where to catch it and I doubt whether Christine would have been prepared to make the leap from the dock onto the bow of a small boat with her backpack on.

The apartment proved wonderful with an incredible balcony across the front giving a beautiful view of the harbor and town. Over the next week we were to spend many hours sitting out front reading and taking in the view. We watched the evening berthings of the charter cruising yachts and the regular put-put of the little water taxis plying their trade. We walked the long way around the harbor a few times but mostly we used the water taxis.

Vela Luka is the largest town on the island of Korcula, with a population of just over 4000. However, you would not know it to look at. There are few shops and even tourist accommodation is more of a B&B nature than hotel based. It is situated at the northern end of the island, with the much older Korcula Town at the southern end. Evidence of human habitation goes back an incredible 20,000 years and the Greeks, Romans and Venetians all had settlements and naval harbors here. However, the town itself bears little of the medieval influences so obvious in Zadar and Trogir. The buildings, although mostly built from local limestone, are mostly utilitarian and plain and date from the first half of the Twentieth Century. What gives it charm is the gorgeous harbor, safe in all weather, which is somewhat of a rarity around the islands of the Adriatic. Indeed, the name Vela Luka derives from “Safe Harbour”.

We continued our largely slovenly lifestyle adopted in Supertar. It must be something to do with living on islands. Our daily routine would often consist of rising late, lounging around until mid morning, crossing the harbor in the water taxi to buy the day’s supplies, sitting at a café for an hour, coming home for lunch, followed by an afternoon read and nap. Then we would pop down the road for a swim in the late afternoon. Day done! It was a real struggle to maintain the lifestyle.

Around Vela Luka

The Croatians love their National Holidays. Back in Supertar we found the town closed down for Corpus Christi. Here we had a quiet day for the Day of the Antifascist Struggle, followed three days later by Statehood Day. Celebrations are big too. On a Saturday evening, a rowing race was held on the harbor below us, a traditional event harking back to 1933 when a crew from a British warship took on a local crew. The locals won and they continue to celebrate every June 24th. A boat carrying a full brass band opened and closed the event by doing a lap of the harbor with the band pumping out a vigorous march. Shore based Croatian pop music filled the middle part and they made sure that everyone in Vela Luka could share in the experience. As the rowed boats came across the line, the winners would break out the smoke flares to celebrate. It was quite entertaining watched from the comfort of our balcony.

We were not lazy all the time. We took a day trip out to nearby Proizd Island on a fish picnic, which is a great Croatian concept that would really take on if offered in Australia. Basically it is a boat excursion to somewhere with a fish meal cooked on board to accompany copious amounts of local wine. We booked the trip at a little tourist outlet a few days before and the young guy who sold us the ticket did his very best to point out the boat that would take us and where to wait. He kept talking about the green table and pointing across the harbor. Eventually we worked out that he had mixed up the words for “table” and “boat” and identified the boat with a green covering. It was a rather flash looking modern boat, suitable for a small group. On the appointed morning, we waited on the dock at the boat at 10am, getting a little anxious because there was no one there. Right on 10am, a guy arrived on a scooter, accompanied by a little white dog. We greeted him and got a very perfunctory grunt in return and he boarded and readied the boat. Then he took off on the scooter again, leaving the dog on board and us on the dock. We saw him visit the bakery for supplies and eventually he returned. This time he looked at us and asked, “Can I help you?” We showed him the ticket for the fish picnic but he said “No, no..” and took us over to where we had seen another much bigger and older boat some time earlier. It turns out this poor guy was just getting his boat ready for a family day out and we were trying to commandeer his day off. The fish picnic boat had departed so a series of queries, instructions, and phone calls was put in place. He left us in other hands and went back to his boat, with our thanks, while arrangements were made for us to chase the fish picnic boat in a little water taxi. We caught up after 10 minutes or so, helped by the fish picnic boat turning around and we climbed aboard to the stares of the very full boat load of fellow passengers.

There were only a couple of spots left down the back of the boat and we settled in. The tables were set with carafes of cold white wine and some of the passengers were already imbibing with gusto. The couple next to us could speak passable English and from them we learned that everyone else on the boat was part of a group of retirees from Slovenia, making us very much the hangers on that the boat had gone back for. Whoops. The host lady came up to us with a couple of shot glasses filled with a local firewater to explain the day and apologize for leaving us behind, which was our fault as much as anyone’s.

A fish picnic to Proizd

A small brunch snack was served as the boat putted out over wonderfully calm seas. We received a delicious tuna pate, some lovely salted anchovy fillets dribbled with olive oil and a very tasty tomato-rice concoction. Of course, the local white wine helped it go down. Then the singing started up with a guy with a guitar and an excellent voice leading a medley of Croatian and Slovenian favourites. The boat did a lap of Proizd, passing all the best beaches on the north-eastern side before pulling up at a jetty in a bay on the western side. Here there is a rather run-down looking restaurant, which is the only real sign of habitation anywhere, and we were given three hours or so to explore the little island and swim before a lunch at 3pm. By this time, many of the Slovenians definitely needed a time out from the white wine. A series of small tracks lead through the pines that make up the vegetation on Proizd to a series of coves. We visited four locations, finding two to be excellent for swimming and lazing around and two to be pretty but lacking any real beach. A lack of a beach does not seem to worry the Croatians who appear quite happy to clamber over rocks to get to water but we prefer the more dignified entry of a beach, even if it is made of stones and not sand.

After three hours of swimming and walking the length of the island we were well and truly ready for lunch. On our return to the boat we found the outdoor oven going at the stern and small blue mackerel cooking over hot coals. These were later served up with a delicious potato and vinegar salad followed by some wonderful local pastry and cut watermelon. Of course, all this was accompanied by an unending supply of local white wine and lots of singing. Some of the Slovenians had decided that all wine existed to be consumed and the volume of the singing increased accordingly.

We had a really great day that actually took us another day or so to get over. Although we hadn’t drunk anything like some of the other passengers the food, sun and exertions of the day took its toll on these poor bodies and we crashed as soon as we got home.

Click here for a video of our trip to Proizd, complete with on-board singing.

A few days after the fish picnic we took a bus to the southern end of Korcula to old Korcula Town, about 45kms away. The drive was spectacular, as most drives are in these parts, giving incredible views over to the neighboring islands and mainland as we traversed the central mountain chain. I don’t know whether I am becoming used to the mountain roads or simply resigned to the concept of death by bus accident. The drivers are certainly very skillful and I tell myself that that can do the drive with their eyes shut, which they effectively do because they are usually on the phone or texting. We passed through several smaller towns along the way, the biggest of which was Blato, which features a beautiful 300metre long central avenue of hundred year old linden trees.

Our arrival in Korcula Town gave us three and a bit hours to explore, which is ample time to take in the atmosphere. I have lost count of the number of fortress towns we have visited now and each one is unique. A beautiful walk around the walled section of the town gives some terrific views over the narrow straits to the mainland and shows why Korcula was such a strategic stronghold. The town is more remarkable for its interior, which is a maze of tiny alleyways far too small for any vehicles (always a good thing). The second notable feature is steps, lots of them at every turn and none of them constructed to match the length of a human stride. Walking turns into some crazy kind of hopping, dancing motion as you attempt to adjust your stride. It gets quite wearing. The town was crowded with tourists and prices tended to reflect the popularity of the place. Prices go up as more cruise ships visit a place. We left the main walled fortress part of the city and crossed the road and down an alley to find prices back to Croatian normal and enjoyed a really excellent pizza with a couple of beers for less than $A20.

Old Korcula Town

Another more energetic excursion was a climb up a hill called Pinski Rat behind Vela Luka to a large open cave called Vela Spila. The cave is situated at an elevation of 120m and the path is around 800m long so the grade is steep in many places. The first part takes you through some back lanes or the town up many flights of steps then the path angles up through olive groves and pine scrub to the cave itself. We chose to go in the morning to avoid the heat but we failed. We were incredibly hot and bothered by the time we reached the top and the cool of the cave was a very welcome relief. The cave carries evidence of human habitation dating back 20,000 years. An ongoing archaeological dig has uncovered layers going down for over 7 metres with a number skeletons from Neolithic times and a great many artefacts from stone, Bronze Age and Greek times. As always in such places, there is a sense of awe to think that humans have shared the same space for so long through so much change.

Vela Spila

Vela Luka is probably the least spectacular place of our recent stays yet a very easy and comfortable place to stay in. We chose the best side of the bay to stay because the beach below the apartment was so good and accessible and the views across to the town itself so good. The daily crossings on the little water taxi became part of the ritual of life and was in itself relaxing. Finally, there is no finer sport than watching other people try to bring boats alongside or pick up mooring lines. Every evening we would play the game of armchair skipper and give lots of advice, all from a distance of course, and sip on our wine safe in the comfort of our balcony.

Vela Luka marks the end of our Croatian journey and we move on south to the little country of Montenegro.

PHOTO GALLERIES:

Vela Luka

Korcula Old Town

Supertar, Brac, Croatia 2017

June 22, 2017 / terry

Supertar, Brac 14-21 June 2017

Our trip from Trogir to the island of Brac involved two ferry trips, the little Baru Line boat from Trogir to Split then a big car ferry over to Supertar, on the island of Brac. Each trip took about 50 minutes and we only had about 30 minutes between them and a short walk of around half a kilometer of so. We docked in Supertar on time and we set off on foot to find our apartment. Fortunately, Antonija, our host, had given us excellent photo instructions and we managed to find our place with little trouble. Supertar is not a big place anyway, more of a small town really with a population of around 3000.

The apartment proved very comfortable and certainly well located, a mere 150m to the water and much the same to a well stocked supermarket. Antonija and her mother live above us. The house is set on a small block with an area of garden, as do most of the houses surrounding us. Some grow vegetables and fruit trees and ours has quite a number of plum trees, mostly purple but one that is a golden colour. Antonija’s mother brought us a bowl of the golden ones and they proved to be very sweet and quite delicious. Another point of interest was the presence of several small tortoises in the yard, cute little things called Hermann’s Tortoise and native to the area. They don’t really do much more than crawl around the yard but its good to know they are there.

All the walking with the backpacks on must have taken its toll because we didn’t do much more after arrival than lie around and read and drop off for a bit of a nap. Our second day on Brac was not much more energetic because it rained most of the day. This was the first rain we had experienced in Croatia and the country looked like it could do with it. It wasn’t heavy, but it was steady and we eventually headed out to explore the town and do some shopping, just accepting that we would get a little wet. When it is cool and wet you would swear that there was no one here but when the bad weather clears and the sun comes out, so do the people. The umbrellas go up, the al fresco tables are set and the gelato sellers get into full swing.

To be honest, we were pretty lazy during our week in Supertar, falling into a habit of doing very little in the afternoons. The local television seems to consist of 10 stations, of which three or four are in English at any one time. This is a big change from NO ENGLISH, which is what we have had for weeks at a time. The down side is that a lot of the English shows are very old and I have to admit to watching an episode of Gunsmoke and a few old NCIS re-runs. We also thoroughly enjoyed the old 70s movie “Papermoon” for which the brilliant 9 year old Tatum O’Neal won an Oscar. We have made up for the laziness by going for a walk every evening after dinner. The sun does not set until around 9pm and the time between 8 and 9 is simply charming, the setting sun casting a gorgeous orange glow on the white limestone buildings of the harbour front. It is a popular time for a stroll with families, couples and hopefuls all doing the walk along the waterfront taking in the atmosphere.

Around Supertar

There are some reasonable swimming beaches locally and not too far from the house at that. The beaches here are stony rather than sand based but the one near us at least has some lovely clean white sand underfoot once you are in the water. The water temperature has come up and is not bad once in and wet. With the beach being a little hard to lie on, there is always a paddock full of sun lounges out for hire and there are plenty of sun loving Europeans ready to ignore the sun safe message and tan themselves to a point where they resemble a cooked chook.

One day we hopped on a bus and visited Bol, which claims the best beach in the Adriatic in the form of a spot called Zlatni Rat. As the crow flies, it is only about 10km across the island from Supertar to Bol but the bus route is 33kms because it makes quite a few side trips to other villages and has to negotiate the difficult trip up and over the central mountain spine. At $A10 each for the return journey, the fare is quite expensive by local bus standards but the trip is really worth it for the drive alone. The views across the highlands and out to the mainland or the neighbouring island of Hvar are nothing short of spectacular and the hairpin bends and switchback narrow roads are adrenaline raising, especially when bus meets bus on a bend. All the little towns and villages were picture perfect. Bol itself is lovely with a cute little harbor and a waterfront line of gorgeous stone buildings. The bus stops right in the heart of the town and Zlatni Rat is about 1.5kms along the coast, necessitating a walk or an expensive taxi. The walk is easy and interesting with market stalls being spread out for around half of the distance. There are also a lot of small coves suitable for swimming along the way.

A bus trip to Bol

Zlatni Rat is the main objective. It is a spit that extends almost perpendicular to the coast with a broad white beach of fine pebbles around its length. Beautiful open pine forest borders the beach, providing a welcome relief from the sun and heat if needed and the water is crystal clear with a gorgeous aquamarine colour. The great thing about the long spit is that it is easy to find a calm place out of the wind. The Western side, where we went, is a little deeper and I found myself out of my depth after only 15 metres of so. We also found that the Western side is a clothing optional area, even though the sign says “No Nudists” and points to a path leading further away as being a nudist beach. I have no issue with the clothing optional places but the slip slop slap seems to have gone out the window. There were some very brown people and brown all over at that. We swam for a while (with bathers on) before walking back to the town.

Back in Bol we had what would have to be the best hamburger in Croatia, or maybe Europe. A little sandwich place near the bus stop advertised a hamburger for 25HRK ($A5) which looked appealing. The girl at the counter called us in to select our toppings from a big selection and everything was crammed into an enormous fresh bun atop a good mince patty. With pickles, corn kernels, crisp salads and a great ketchup it really hit the spot. I just shows you what can happen when a country doesn’t have Maccas.

There is a small village about 3kms to the west of Supertar called Mirca and we took a walk, following the main road and some small trails. It is a pretty little spot set on a small cove. It seems that any small cove or rare piece of flat land has developed into a settlement on Brac, where arable or livable land is rare. Most arable land is used for olive growing with the small stunted trees being grown in soil that is extremely rocky. Over the centuries, the rocks have been cleared to some extent and piled into mounds or incorporated in the endless network of dry-stone walls. Where a valley forms that will hold some actual soil, market gardens flourish, with tomatoes, grapes, zucchinis and cabbages being commonly grown.

For most of our time in Croatia, the wind has been absent and the seas glassy calm. However, we did have a couple of days of a nasty northerly wind that locally is called a Bora. The warnings went out for winds of around 40km/hr with gusts to 90km/hr. The large number of mountainous islands in this part of the world can produce some rather extreme variations in the winds. While the worst of the forecast Bora wind never actually materialized, we saw enough to know that a Bora prediction needs to be taken seriously. Just as with the rain, the crowds disappeared again, presumably holed up inside. The boats tied up in the various little harbours dotted around Supertar were all jumping around on their lines and the few boats we saw that had ventured out were making heavy going of it. One evening when it was blowing hard we saw a flotilla of five yachts tied up inside the breakwater. They were bouncing around in their berths quite a bit but better than being outside. What attracted us was that they were flying pennants advertising “Sail Croatia” and sported flags of various nations. Three flew Australian flags so we wandered over. Sail Croatia is a charter company that offers cruises for under 35s and there were young people in abundance. Part of their web site promotion promises “every night a party” and the party had started early. Despite the bouncy conditions, everyone seemed to be having a great time and the drinks flowed freely. We figured they didn’t want to talk to old farts and went away again. The next morning, we watched the fleet put to sea in heavy conditions and wondered at just how the crews were holding up.

Beautiful beaches and our apartment

The week in Supertar has probably been the least energetic of our stays so far but the place does lull you into a relaxed mood. The town appears capable of catering for at least five times the current crowd and I gather that things will get like that in July and August. It must be quite frenetic, especially over at Bol, which is already very busy. However, if getting away from the rat race of commuting to work and living in busy crowded cities is your need then a week or so on Brac Island would be a most welcome escape.

From here we move on through the islands to Korcula. More ferries, more beaches. It’s a hard life.

See full gallery of photos

Trogir, Croatia, June 2017

June 15, 2017 / terry

Trogir 9-14 June

We caught a bus from Zadar to Trogir, an interesting experience. We booked an “Autotransport Sibenik” bus, one of several available but with the most convenient time. Fortunately, we were early so we were fairly early getting our bags stowed and finding a seat. We had to pay an extra 14HRK ($A2.80) extra for the bags, not something we have ever experienced before but logical enough because it means that travel for people without bags is cheaper. We took our seats and settled down as per normal. Then the bus started to fill, and fill, until the aisles were full. One guy pointed out that we had his booked seat. We showed him our ticket that said seats were not allocated. We had booked ours two days earlier than him so we stayed put. The bus driver came down the aisle, not an easy thing because he was built like the Hulk, and checked tickets. All those hoping to buy a ticket on board were kicked out of seats, satisfying our seat claimant and then he proceeded to sell tickets to the others. Of course, by this time there was only standing room left and the trip was a couple of hours. I don’t think they got a discount.

The trip was a good drive. On the left were the mountains and inland lakes and on the right the ocean and numerous offshore islands. Each view came and went, punctuated with the entry into a gorgeous little town or village to drop off or pick up passengers. The crowd on the bus eased as the towns went by but suddenly, at Sibenik, another dozen people got on. I am not sure why social media outrage has not sunk this bus company. Our accommodation host, Ivan, was not at all surprised. He said it is just the way things happen in Croatia.

We eventually arrived in Trogir, quite a deal later than the advertised time and were met by our host. Ivan is a charming young man who owns the apartment we have rented. He is a forestry engineer living in split who has obviously branched off into real estate rental. He showed us the way to our apartment, a mere 800m from the city centre, and settled us in. Our apartment is a one bedroom affair on the third and top floor of small block. It appears to be in a housing estate with every block the same and separated by a bit of unkept garden and parking spaces. The place looked pretty run down and very much a left-over from the communist era. Fortunately, our apartment was newly renovated and in spotless condition, with everything we needed. The big exception was a toaster, not surprising because people in Italy and Croatia don’t seem to make toast. They are available in stores but we never find a rental apartment that has one.

Trogir is like a smaller version of Zadar in many ways. The old fortress town occupies an island rather than a peninsular but there is access from two sides, with the larger island of Ciovo. A small stone bridge connects Trogir to the mainland and a small steel one to Ciovo. This route is the only land route to Ciovo, which appears to have a significant population. The little road is chocked full to a standstill during peak hours. Another bridge is under construction that will avoid the old town. It was due to open this June but the builder went broke and things have very much stopped. All the pylons appear to be in place but that is all.

Just like Zadar, the city inside the ancient walls is almost fairytale like. There are so many gorgeous alleyways, porticoes, piazzas and churches that one barely knows where to look. The city is said to be the best example of a Romanesque-Gothic town in Central Europe and has earned a UNESCO protected status. The original design of the city is still visible and is down to the early Greek founders and the Roman influence remains strong. Unfortunately, the crowds can get a bit too heavy at times and the tiny narrow streets fill with walking tours. Another negative is the habit of filling every open space with tables and umbrellas for the restaurants. I have no objection to al fresco dining or people making a living out of tourism but when a piazza can’t be properly appreciated because the view is completely obscured by a sea of umbrellas things need to be re-evaluated.

On the northern end of the town there is a fortress built by the Venetians in the 1400s sometime. It gives excellent views of the city and is a wonderful place to spend some time just looking down at all the comings and goings of the local boats.

The old Venetian Fortress at top left.

Thankfully, food and drink prices have a little lower than Zadar, around 20% on average, and there appears to be many more low cost lunch and fast food options, although no actual Maccas is in sight. The fast food consists of interesting Croatian pastries with meat fillings and some really good stuffed pita bread type of things. There is a large fresh market right next to the bridge from the mainland that sells all manner of fruit and veg, nuts, dried fruits, honey and olive oil. It is an all bustle and hum type of place although, like all markets, care needs to be taken to avoid being had or buying stuff you don’t really want. Across the road is a fresh fish market where people bring their catches in the mornings. There are prawns, lobster, sea bream, sea bass and mullet on offer, all very fresh and quite a reasonable price. We bought a couple of good sized bream for $A10 so it is certainly on a par with Australia.

Trogir is so full of great atmosphere

Trogir certainly shows off its maritime links. There are boats everywhere with moorings along every bit of shoreline, small harbours in every cove and large marinas in the bigger bays. Most houses along the beach have a boat of some kind resting in the yard. Ferries and sight seeing boats make runs out to some of the nearby islands. One of the highlights of the old town is the 15^th Century Venetian fortress at the northern end of the island. Although not overly big, it is in reasonable condition and can be climbed for some outstanding vistas across the town and harbor. Getting to the top involves steep sets of steps, narrow stone stairways and a couple of steel ladders, none of which is Christine’s preferred method of travel but the result was worth the effort.

One day we decided to take a bus into Split, Croatia’s second largest city and situated about an hour’s ride to the south. We had stayed in Split in 2012 and fallen in love with it, especially the incredibly beautiful Diocletian’s Palace. Diocletian was a Roman Emperor between 284 and 305AD. He was born in Split of low parentage but grew through the ranks of the army to eventually become Emperor. The remains of his huge palace form the supporting structure for much of the central part of Split. The bus dropped us off about 800m short of the palace and we had to walk to the palace gates. Once inside, we were reminded of just how amazing the place is. It is quite surreal experience to walk the pathways and steps in the footsteps of those from nearly 2000 years ago. The place was jam packed with tourists. Two cruise ships were in port making things very difficult. However, the palace is big, bigger than the whole of Trogir, and so we eventually escaped the worst of the crowds.

A day in Split

Split is a major hub for the ferry services, both international and those that service the islands. Part of our purpose in coming to Split was to sort out our future movements through the islands to the south and we managed to buy the tickets we wanted and work out just where we needed to be. Advance planning when carrying heavy backpacks is always a good idea. Along the wharf and departure areas we found the crowds to be much greater than they were back in 2012, probably because the GFC had hit Europe in a big way and tourism was down. Things are recovering!

We caught a ferry home along the coast from Split, stopping at Slatine, a small village on the south end of Ciovo. The ferry trip took about the same time as the bus but was far more enjoyable and only a little more expensive. We got off the boat at Trogir and settled in to a little restaurant for a late lunch. Much to our delight, they had grilled sardines on the menu. Whole, crispy fried sardines were a highlight of our trip in 2012. They were cheap and really tasty, but for some reason, they are almost absent from the menus this time around. We researched “Adriatic Sardines” and did read that the EU is trying to introduce measures to combat over-exploitation by Croatia and Italy so maybe some controls are in place. The ones we were served were definitely smaller than before but very tasty and still cheap. After Trogir, we will head out to live on some of the islands for a couple of weeks so hopefully sardines will become more common.

We enjoyed a day exploring part of the Krka (pronounced Krarka) National Park, inland and north-east of Trogir. After much research, we used a tour bus to get there because the local buses looked complicated and involved a lot of sitting around waiting. The park surrounds a large deep valley carved out of the limestone ranges by the Krka River. The descent of the river through the lush forested valley produces an incredible area full of waterfalls and sparkling clear running water. Exploring the whole park, with its castles, forests and rivers, would take days or even weeks, and we just visited Stradinski Buk, which features some of the best waterfalls and some excellent walk trails. As with everywhere, it was crowded, even though we had held off going on the weekend. The weekdays mean you get smaller adult and family crowds but you run into the school excursions. The walk trails were crowded and the swimming area quite full, despite the rather cold water. However, the crowds did not detract from the sheer beauty of the place. There was running water everywhere, framed with extremely picturesque forest. Amazingly, the waterfalls are growing slightly each year, rather than being eroded away as one would expect. The water is so high in minerals that limestone (or travertine) actually settles out of the water onto the rocks, in much the same way that stalactites grow in cave systems. It creates some lovely effects around the falls.

Beautiful Krka National Park

The lush forest was such a contrast from the drive to the park, across open and bare mountain sides covered in rock rubble and low scrub. It is amazing just how barren looking the whole inland region is with almost no top soil of any kind visible, save in the odd isolated shallow valley. Areas of rocky surface have been painstakingly cleared of rocks over the centuries, the rocks stacked into an extensive series of drywalls. A few areas had vines or apricots planted but olives are the main crop, mostly small gnarly trees by Italian standards. A bit of research reveals that the bareness of the hills results from a combination of factors. The natural harshness of the limestone karst system means that topsoil has not built up over the years. Where forests did flourish, heavy milling by the Venetians in the Middle ages as their naval power grew denuded the coastline, adding to erosion problems. Whatever the reason, the effect is harsh and it is certainly not the type of place I would ever want to do any gardening. Along the way we passed a number of marble quarries, with steps of perfectly smooth blocks cut into the hillside. The marble from this part of the World is famous and said to be top quality.

We thoroughly loved Trogir. Although not quite as big or spectacular as Zadar, it is a very easy place to live in. In fact, I think it is a much better choice of somewhere to stay than Split, even though everyone goes to Split. The international airport is far closer to Trogir than Split, accommodation cheaper and the crowds are not as bad. A few cruise ships do come to Trogir but they are much smaller than the huge ones that go to Split. Split can be accessed as a day trip by ferry, with the one main attraction there being Diocletian’s Palace.

Another ferry trip took us back to Split to catch a connecting ferry on to our next stop, Supertar on Brac Island.

PHOTO GALLERIES:

Trogir

Krka

Split

Zadar, Croatia, June 2017

June 11, 2017 / terry

Zadar 4-9 June 2017

We woke on board the ferry after a good night’s sleep and had a breakfast while the ship docked. Unfortunately for us, the docking point has changed from its old location in the old town, which would have made for an easy walk to our accommodation, to a new complex still under construction a little way south at Gazenica. This meant a two bus transfer into the old town and a bit of a walk to actually reach the bus stop. The facility is so new that there is a n almost complete lack of signage so it took a bit of doing to work out just where to catch the bus. We finally located a timetable and found we had missed a bus by 10 minutes and had a 90 minute wait for the next one, due to the fact that it was a Sunday. Why do so often get somewhere on a Sunday? Australian Governments will have us believe that the rest of the World works 24/7 but it simply isn’t true. The only things that work on Sunday in Europe are church bells.

Eventually, we made it into Old Zadar and walked into the central Plaza called People’s Square, a gorgeous little square surrounded by medieval buildings. Our accommodation is right on the edge of the square but we were early and still had a few hours to kill before we could check in. A hot chocolate and a spot of crowd gazing soaked up an hour then we wandered off in search of a spot to sit. A couple of hundred metres along we entered the old Roman Forum area, chock full of broken columns and arch ways. The layout of the forum was easily visible and the whole place just reeked of history. As we sat and looked at the buildings around us we saw that most had incorporated pieces of ancient Roman stonework into their facades. There were magnificent porticoes, gracious stone columns and strangely carved gargoyles in abundance. It was an introduction to our home of the next six days that held a lot of promise.

View over Zadar, Our ferry, Our accommodation and the People’s Square

By noon, we had access to our little apartment and met Mate, our host. The apartment is hidden away through several sets of doors, up a flight of stairs and overlooking a tiny courtyard. It is old, full of mis-matched bits of furniture and plumbing but the location is to die for and the whole thing works for us. We live right in the middle of one of the World’s top tourist destinations with everything in walking distance (there are no vehicles allowed in the old town) all for less than $A60 a night. We are in heaven!

Old Zadar is on a peninsular, making it a near impregnable fortress throughout history. A solid wall surrounds the town, broken in places by gateways. Each gateway is an individual masterpiece of old World charm, most incorporate sections of Roman ruins with one, the Seagate, even using an old triumphal arch. The whole of the old town is very walkable and there is an easily accessible walk bridge across the water divide to the newer area. Most of the bigger hotels are on the newer side so the walkway is filled throughout the day and much of the night with a steady stream of tourists crossing over to soak up the atmosphere. We just walk outside anytime we feel like a dose of ancient Zadar. However, there is a price to pay for the location. Things are quite a bit more expensive than we experienced in Split back in 2012. Part of this would be because the Aussie Dollar is not as generous now as it was then but it is also because we are living right in the heart of touristville. You go to one eatery and the drinks are cheap but the food expensive then the next one goes for the opposite approach. Nowhere is cheap. We have cooking facilities so we hit the supermarkets and planned a program of cooking and eating in. Meat is cheaper than in Italy but otherwise things seem to be somewhat on the dear side. Maybe it settles down once you get outside the old city area.

The history of Zadar is so much a part of the place that we put aside our usual reluctance to visit museums and went to the Zadar Museum of Archaeology. It proved to be a wonderful display of artifacts dating down from Neolithic times to the Medieval Period, with a whole floor devoted to the Roman times. The sheer size and scope of the collection is amazing, with a great number of pieces collected from the immediate vicinity of the town and the nearby areas. What struck us most was the relatively short period of time it took for humans to come out of the stone age and into the sophistication of the bronze age and just how clever they were once they had discovered working with metals. The second floor was devoted to the Roman era and immersed us in a time of incredible organization and civic development. Once again, the display of artifacts far outweighed anything we had seen before and with a Roman Forum laid out before us right outside the door of the museum we were almost transported back to another age. Well worth the visit.

The North Gate, Roman Forum, St Anastasia’s Cathedral

One evening after dinner we walked to the tip of the peninsula to the famous sea organ pipes, a simple yet fascinating structure along the sea wall. A series of holes and caverns have been formed in the steps leading down to the seawall, allowing the waves from the ocean to become trapped underneath and force air through carefully constructed holes. Each one resonates with a slightly different pitch, producing a beautiful church organ type of sound as the sea moves in and out. The stairs extend for about 70 meters along the coast with 35 pipes of different length, diameter and tilts. The pipes play 7 chords of 5 tones. It is a very soulful and restful sound and many people come down to watch the sun set and listen to the calming sounds of the sea organ.

A bit further along is a 22 metre circular light display, powered by solar power generated and stored during the day. By night, the huge display turns on a myriad small lights, arranged to simulate the size and position of the planets. Huge crowds congregate to watch the display come to life as the sun sets.

The highest point in Zadar is the church spire of St Anastasia’s Cathedral so we climbed the 190 steps to take in the views of the city. Narrow spiral stairways usually send Christine into a fit of the heebie-jeebies but she was very well controlled, showing that all this exposure to medieval history is starting to pay off. The views were quite breathtaking, all though we kept a very wary eye on the time lest the damn church bells started peeling while we were next to them. They are deafening from our apartment and that is about half a kilometre away.

Besides the walk bridge over the water there was a tiny little rowed ferry boat that operated from 6am to 11pm. It has been owned by the same family for years and different members take turns to do the rowing. It costs 5HRK ($A1) a trip and they seem to be continually on the move with between 2 and 8 passengers so they must pay their way. We used the service a few times. A charming way to go.

The little rowed ferry boat.

By far the highlight of our time in Zadar, and even of the trip to date, was a day trip on a boat out to some of the nearby islands. We went on the Zvida Mora (www.zvidamora.hr) a small traditional wooden boat, with its wonderfully entertaining and knowledgeable skipper Milan. What helped make the day a highlight was the terrific mix of fellow passengers, which included a family of Brits/Aussies, a lovely couple of girls from Hungary and Norway, and a fun group of young Germans. We all got on really well and tried hard to rid the boat of all alcohol as we went. We snorkeled (some SCUBA dived) in wonderfully clear but icy cold water, we stopped for a beer (which we didn’t need) in a gorgeous little village and we trekked around Osljak, the smallest inhabited island in the Adriatic Sea. Besides handling the boat all by himself and providing a wonderful running commentary of the sights and history, Milan showed off his culinary skills by cooking a magnificent fish lunch. We each got a perfectly cooked whole fish on the bone with some excellent potatoes fried with a herb mixture. The fish was local Seabream, similar to an Australian Bream, full of flavor and firm of texture. The tour followed along the inside of Uglijan Island, passing by numerous gorgeous little secluded coves, usually with a couple of cruising yachts anchored up. I would love to hire a yacht for a week from Zadar and spend some time exploring the huge expanse of water available to cruisers. We had an absolutely amazing day, one that will remain a highlight for a long time.

Our day out on Zvida Mora

For the last five years we have been singing the praises of Split as a top place to visit and stay for a while. Zadar has probably taken the crown away from Split. It is so easy and laid back yet so packed full of charm. Is it the best of Croatia? Only time will tell.

PHOTO GALLERY:

Zadar

Bologna, Rimini, San Marino and Ancona, Italy 2017

June 5, 2017 / terry

Bologna 28-31 May 2017

We left Nova Levante with Rob and Yvette driving us down to Bolzano to catch a Flixbus to Bologna. The trip was up to the standard we have come to expect from this company and we even find it more convenient than the train. The trip took us through Trento and Modena, strangely by-passing Verona. The bus terminal is in central Bologna not far from the rail station.

As we got organized and loaded our packs ready for the walk to our accommodation, we began to realize just how warm it was. At 32°C, the temperature was a bit warmer than we had been used to up in the mountains and by the time we reached our accommodation we were feeling it.

We stayed at the “We Bologna”, a student hostel that caters for the large university population in Bologna. At around 45€ a night it has to be some of the best value around. We have a large comfortable room with great facilities, access to a well equipped kitchen and laundry and free fast Wifi Internet. We get stared at a bit by the youngsters but then we watch them too. The only real down side is that it is a bit of a walk to the central city, not too hard but the heat can sap ones energy.

The most obvious thing about Bologna is that it is very grubby. After the almost sterile cleanliness of Nova Levante and even Bolzano, this place reeks of “dirt”. Graffiti seems to be the scourge of Italy but it is worse here than any place we have seen. The sidewalks are dotted with all manner of droppings and every crack in the pavement is home to a weed. There are rubbish bins everywhere and although they are well utilized, they are really dirty things to look at. Sorry Bologna, your city is dirty.

It is also extremely noisy, mostly caused by the large number of diesel buses on the narrow streets. There is no subway or tram system. There is an electric trolley bus system running throughout the city but in our three days we would not have seen more than five electric buses. At times it was impossible to have a conversation on the street so bad was the noise.

Now I have had my rant, I can say how incredibly interesting the city is. It is generally much older than other Italian cities, with much of it dating back past the Renaissance to the 11^th and 12^th Centuries. It also looks very different because there is a lack of marble around the place. The nearest marble deposits are well away from Bologna and so the predominant material is clay brick with terracotta adornments. Many of the grander buildings were have a very rough brick finish, it being the intention to clad them in marble when money and circumstance permitted. It never did, it seems, with buildings well over the five hundred years old mark still sitting awaiting the final finish. This creates a very medieval effect indeed.

Another interesting feature is the use of colonaded buildings. Almost every building older than World War II has a magnificent colonnade on its frontage, making for cool and comfortable walking along the streets. They all stem from a time long past when one or other of the Popes decreed that all buildings must have a portico. Originally, they were commonly built of wood, and a few of these still remain, some nearly 1000 years old. Indeed, Bologna has the World’s longest colonnade, Il Santuario di San Luca with 666 arches creating a covered walkway.

We took a cycle tour of the city with “Bike in Bo”. There was only us and a couple of women from Sicily (although one was an American living and working in Sicily). We cycled through the busy cobbled streets and found it very easy going. There are no hills in the city centre and the traffic is not manic, as it is in some Italian cities. We found the cars and buses to be very considerate, no doubt picking us as foreign fools and worthy of a wide berth. From the English speaking guide we learnt much about the history of Bologna and were surprised at just how important it was as a hub of science and learning during the Renaissance. The city holds many secrets, including the amazing series of canals, once the lifeblood of commerce but now mostly hidden beneath the roads and parks of modern Bologna. What is still evident is the city’s love of towers. There were over 100 towers back in the 13^th Century, truly amazing structures built out of clay brick with only a small foundation of stone. Just why they have stood up all these years is a mystery, especially since the area is earthquake prone, the last serious and deadly one being in 2012. Around twenty large towers remain dotted around the central old town. One even leans more than the famous Tower of Pisa. It has a 5 degree lean and it is a little worrying to stand under it.

Around Bologna on a bike tour

We toured the old Jewish Ghetto, the University quarter and the former palace of the Pope and the Italian monarchy. A cycle tour is really great way to get an overview of any city and there is always a little bit of history and local knowledge thrown in by the guide.

Bologna is a dream city for lovers of culture and history. For anyone thinking of coming here, I would suggest avoiding the summer, because we found the heat in the crowded airless streets a bit oppressive even at the end of May.

Rimini 31 May – 3 June

A train was to take us from Bologna to Rimini, a seaside city on Italy’s Adriatic coast. We have done this trip before, travelling through from Venice to Ancona in 2012 and last time Trenitalia stuffed us around at Bologna by changing platforms at the last minute. Well they did it again, but this time the train was just pulling out as we got to the new Platform 6, all after spending an hour and a half waiting on Platform 3 (as advertised). That meant another hour’s wait for the next train.

Along the way, we passed through a regional town that obviously had a large senior secondary school and hundreds of very loud hormone charged youngsters got on a shattered the tranquility in a big way. I recognized all the old tricks of youth, such as teasing a girl horribly if you are actually keen on her so that her cutting relies actually represents a conversation. Then there is wet the boy with the water bottle or water bottle wrestling to show you are really into him. It was all there. We had two girls opposite and one was without doubt the World’s fastest talker. The other girl only managed five words in three stations. The talking girl simply didn’t stop, not once, machine gunning out beautiful tinkling Italian at a hell of a rate. It was really quite musical but someone needed to tell her to shut up.

Rimini is one of Europe’s most famous beach areas with a gorgeous 15km long white sand beach (rather than the more common pebble beaches). It has over 1000 hotels and is very much in the seaside resort mold. There is an old city centre, which boasts some beautiful Roman buildings, but the beach part is more like the south of Spain. Access to the beach is more difficult than in Australia, where we regard the public as having ownership. Here it appears that a beach can be privately owned or controlled, usually filled with deck chairs, umbrellas, waiters and swimming outfits far too small for their occupants. We enquired about hiring a lounge but at 25€ for a back row miles from the water we decided the public beach was more our thing. The one time we did head down to the beach for a swim, the tide was out and we ended up wading in the water like everyone else. The hotel pool proved better, and gave us the first real chance to swim in Europe.

Modern seaside Rimini

We stayed the Hotel Bahama (a good Italian name?) and it proved to be a real gem. Just one block from the beach, it had a lovely pool, comfortable room, very friendly staff and the breakfast cook was a pastry chef of amazing talent. The tablet was set with an endless variety of beautiful treats, flans, cakes, pastries, profiteroles and a tiramisu trifle type of thing. Logic and the figure dictates a look but don’t touch approach but good manners meant that we had to sample the wares.

Fortunately, the hotel has a large fleet of bikes that are free for guests to use so accessing the old town was easy. The streets of Rimini are mostly shaded with street trees and many have dedicated bike lanes. Best of all it is flat. We rode into town along the river, checking out the many boats moored as we went. The first stop was Tiberius’s Bridge, an absolutely stunning marble bridge with four arches spanning the river. Started by the Emperor Augustus in 27BC and completed by Tiberius, it is an incredible piece of work, built so well that it is still in use today.

Rimini or Ariminum was first colonized and built by the Romans in 268BC. Only a few complete structures remain intact, most notably the bridge and Augustus’s Arch, a beautiful marble arch at the opposite end of the city to the bridge. Decorations and marble columns recovered from ruined Roman buildings have been used over the years and incorporated into many buildings. There are also the ruins of an amphitheatre that once seated 12,000 people.

In the late 19^th Century, the ruins of several Roman houses were found beneath the Municipal Gardens. These were carefully excavated and an excellent glass enclosure constructed over the whole site, giving some insight into the houses in the ancient city. The use of mosaics on the floors is stunning, with intricate designs and motifs being created out of thousands of tiny coloured pebbles. A few of the walls still bear some signs of the plaster murals that would have adorned the walls. We spent quite a while touring this most interesting exhibit, and later going through the nearby Museum of Religious Artifacts. It is incredible to see just how much beauty and artistic skill has been poured channeled through the church over the centuries. I get that the church had the money and the power to pay the artists of the medieval and renaissance periods and therefore dictated the subject matter and even the interpretations but I do wonder just how much insight into those past times we might now enjoy if the artists had been free to paint the subject matter of their choice.

Old Rimini with its strong Roman heritage

Rimini is comfortable, easy to get around and quite fascinating on a number of levels. I can see why it is a firm favourite with the summer holiday crowds and, equally, it is a terrific stopping point for tourists on the move.

San Marino 2^nd June

The World’s firth smallest country has been on our radar ever since we were kids collecting stamps. They always had the prettiest stamps, with weird triangular shaped ones and beautiful images at a time when the rest of the World was content with heads of monarchs and dull public buildings. San Marino is a fully independent nation locked inside Italy, about 25kms inland of Rimini. It is a mountain nation, perched high on an incredible hilltop, surrounded by farm lands and a bit of urban sprawl. It enjoys a very high rate of employment and has the distinction of being the only country in the World that has a car ownership ratio of more than one car per person.

We caught a bus from Rimini Station to San Marino for the day, riding our hotel bikes to the station. And that is where the good part ends!

The crowd waiting to get on the bus swelled at the last minute and there was quite a bit of pushing involved to get on and get a seat. It was Italian Independence Day so the crowds were out in force. Somewhere in all the body to body contact, my wallet got lifted. I didn’t discover it until we got to San Marino. Damn! Even though I was the victim, I felt so stupid. We are normally very vigilant in crowds and I keep hands in pockets but it must have been the indignation about a mob trying to push in the bus line that let my guard down. I lost around 200€ and several credit cards, along with my Australian Driver’s Licence.

The bus had dropped us off about five layers of hill top city below the summit. We needed to deal with some banks and check balances before exploring further but to our dismay mobile reception was almost non existent. We could get voice but not data, at least with any consistency. We tried moving around a bit and finally found a spot that we could get by and so managed to transfer some money around before letting the banks know about the lost cards.

San Marino – not that we got to see much of it.

The town provides a convenient system for tourists to explore the town. A little shuttle train carries people to the top of the town for 3 then they walk back down, hopefully shopping and eating all the way. We were too worried about banks and cards to bother and so taking in all the sights went by the board. What we did see of San Marino looks wonderful and it is a must visit spot if you are in this part of Italy but for us it was a bad experience, made worse by the phone situation. With much work to do, we decided to catch the bus back to Rimini so we could sort everything out. Unfortunately, we ended up waiting for two hours at the bus stop because it turned out the bus was operating on normal hours, not the holiday timetable as we had been advised. Of course, it was not San Marino’s Independence Day, only Italy’s.

Back in Rimini, we had lunch and a beer and used the Internet. Then we crossed the road to where we had left the bikes, all chained up. At least they were still there, that is until I tried to get on. Mine had no seat! Damn! They had my wallet AND my bike seat. I had to ride all the way back to the hotel standing up. We dropped in to the local supermarket to grab a couple more beers for the evening. Damn! They were closed for Independence Day.

Ancona 3 June

Our last day in Rimini was really a half day, while we waited for it to be time to catch the train south to Ancona and then the ferry to Croatia. There are regular trains to Ancona but we held off until the afternoon to reduce the time we would have to hang around in Ancona. We borrowed bikes again (with two seats) and road north along the foreshore. Being Independence Day weekend, it was quite busy, although nothing like it will be in the height of summer. It is kilometer after kilometer of hotels, guest houses, pizzerias and small fun parks. The hire out lounges and umbrellas filled the beaches and there were lots of stalls selling beach wear at what appeared to be very good prices. We watched beach volley ball, beach tennis, bowls and bocce along with a few people whizzing down waterslides. The whole beach scene was like one of those complex cartoons that MAD Magazine used to do with fat people, skinny people, people walking their dogs and even some riding their bikes and watching everyone else have fun.

It was warm and I had a niggling calf strain so we took a rare taxi ride to the station. For once, the train left from the correct platform and we took off without an issue. The scenery for much of the hour and a half trip to Ancona was somewhat of a repeat of the morning, except the accommodation gradually became less of the hotel and more of the caravan park. Motor homes actually outnumber caravans here by about 5 to 1 and they really pack them in. The train rushed past the parks and beaches with only 50 metres or so to spare at around 160km/hr. There is one train every twenty minutes or so. It must be very relaxing.

Once in Ancona we had quite a few hours to kill before the ship sailed. The first task was to pick up our tickets so it meant a taxi to the ferry ticket office. Only sometime later did we discover that a free shuttle bus actually drops by the station and goes to the ferry ticket office then on to departure. The taxi driver turned out to be a woman, the first female taxi driver in Ancona and only on the job same. The ticket office was closed of course (they always are) and we sat down for yet another wait. Eventually, 4pm came and the office opened, we picked up our tickets and went out to wait for the shuttle bus to the departure area. Of course, the departure area was closed so we settled down to wait.

Christine was happy to wait but I was getting “waited out” and decided to leave her with all the bags and make the climb up the many stairs to explore parts of Ancona. The city is rich in Roman history, much of it centered around the time of Emperor Trajan. Trajan ruled around 100AD and oversaw the period of the empires greatest expansion. He was a visionary, conqueror and builder and left his legacy on Ancona in the form of many fine public buildings and a very impressive arch.

The Roman ruins obviously had some money spent on then some years ago with a few steel walkways constructed over the excavations around the Forum and some paths formed around the Amphitheatre but all that seems to have fallen into a state of neglect. It is hard to distinguish 2000 year old ruins from 15 year old ruins in some places. The whole city looks to be crumbling, which most European cities are, except here they don’t sweep up the rubble. I enjoyed the walk but felt sad that such beautiful history is not attracting the sort of financial assistance it needs to be adequately preserved.

Views of Ancona with our ship in dock.

Eventually, the immigration office opened and we did the passport thing, joining another Aussie couple from Melbourne to make the trek around to the ship, a large car carrying job. After wandering around the ship for a while, climbing numerous stairways and taking a few wrong turns, we found our cabin and finally dumped the backpacks, What a relief! The ship was not due to sail until 10pm and we managed to sit outside watching the lights of town until 9:30pm before deciding we would have to miss the departure and went down to bed, exhausted. There is nothing quite so tiring as a day spent waiting for things. We were happy to just wake up in Croatia.

GALLERIES:

Bologna

Rimini

Ancona

Nova Levante / Welschnofen, Italy 2017

May 30, 2017 / terry

Nova Levante / Welschnofen, 12-27 May 2017

We arrived in Bolzano by train from Verona and were met by Rob and Yvette in their trusty Blue Peugeot. The ride up through the mountain pass was gorgeous, giving us our first taste of the Dolomites, an area so named because of the preponderance of “dolomite”, a rock formed from limestone under pressure. The clashing of the uplift that has resulted in the Alps and an ancient coral seabed has produced this beautiful area, a wonderful mixture of volcanic and sedimentary origins.

Our home was to be in Nova Levante, also known as Welschnofen, a small town situated up in the mountains about 20km ro so from Bolzano. Everything around seems to have two names, one Italian and one German, because the region was Austrian prior to World War I and remains very much a part of the Tyrols, retaining the German language and culture, The towns and villages reflect the alpine style that is present throughout Austria, Bavaria and Swizterland, with steeply sloping roofs, much use of timber for balconies and deeply overhanging eaves. The town is as neat as a pin, with manicured gardens and pretty flower boxes in abundance. Being built on a steep slope, almost everyone overlooks someone else and that may enforce a spirit of pride or it may be the heritage of Germanic organisation. Whatever the reason, the town is gorgeous and the backdrop of the forested hills and snow clad mountains really sets it off.

Views of Nova Levante

Rob and Yvette’s apartment is on the second floor

Rob and Yvette’s apartment is the second floor of a three floor building, the top being unoccupied and the first being a very friendly and cheerful local couple. The apartment is spacious enough for the four of us with a feature being the two balconies that give us an opportunity to watch the comings and goings of the village. The main balcony overlooks the houses below, some of which have small attached fields, running a few sheep and donkeys. The rural smell wafts up on most days but it adds to the great atmosphere more than it offends. We spent a lot of time just standing out on the balcony, watching people, animals or the changing moods of the weather over the mountains.

Nova Levante is overlooked by two large mountain systems, the Latemar and the Rosengarten (Rose Garden), which gets its name from the pinkish hue that it gives off as the sun is setting. Both were covered in a healthy dose of snow when we arrived but by the time we left the Rosengarten had lost most of its cover and the Latemar was showing signs of going the same way. Both mountains provide an excellent range of ski runs during the season and the slopes are dotted with ski lifts. A larger enclosed cable car system rises from Nova Levante to Frommer Alm, on the lower slopes of the Rosengarten and open ski lifts rise to higher points. During the summer, many of these continue to operate, carrying hikers instead of skiers. The beauty of the region attracts hikers in numbers which means the town and surrounds is fortunate in having two major tourist seasons. We were visiting between seasons, with the town quiet in terms of visitors but busy in the sense that everyone was flat out with getting things ready for the summer season.

Around Nova Levente

We made good use of the many hiking trails. The attraction is very often the view but this means a climb. Often, we would plod steadily uphill for a couple of hours, steadily gaining height, only to suffer an equally hard downward march, faster but just as hard on the legs. The rewards were always there, the views and the beauty of the forests combining to produce a great experience each and every time. The forest is a mixture of pine, spruce and fir, with incredibly straight and tall trees covering the steep slopes. They are regularly but sustainably harvested, although just how this is done on some of the mountain slopes defies imagination. There are huge piles of neatly stacked logs dotted all over the place and the locals all have enormous stacks of cut and split timber ready to dry over the summer in readiness for the next winter.

Our first serious hike together was from Lake Carezza up towards the Latemar. We were keen on reaching the snow line and we figured it would not be too difficult because it looked as though the snow was still reaching down into edge of the forest. A relatively easy trail took us steadily upwards, the forest changing from a mix of spruce and pine to just spruce alone. We would stop every now and then to admire the view or have a snack. Finally, we reached the tree line and a couple of huts. A few tiny patches of dirty snow were still in evidence, enough to satisfy the girls but Rob and I pushed on across the broken rock and thorn covered gullies to reach the snow proper. It proved to be fairly tough going, the rock shifting under us a lot. Only hiking sticks prevented a really bad fall, although I went over once and Rob did a couple of very graceful slides onto his bum. We managed to reach the snow. I was so tired I didn’t even feel the snow ball that hit me and could only be bothered throwing one feeble one back, wide of the mark. The snow was light and crunchy right to the very edge, a bit of a surprise really. On the way down, we kept stopping to watch awesome avalanches cascade over cliffs and through ravines. The sound was quite incredible. Fortunately, the avalanches were far enough away that we did not get overly concerned and could enjoy the spectacle.

On one occasion, we took the cable car up to Frommer Alm with the intention of hiking down. We estimated the trip down would take maybe half an hour of relatively easy walking. It ended up taking three hours and was quite challenging in parts. However, the views from the cable car and the hike back remains one of the highlights of our stay. Another highlight was a hike up to Jocher Hof, a farm come restaurant high above Nova Levante. On arrival at the farm, we spied a sign offering home cooked apple strudel and we were very happy to be shown inside the farm house into a cosy room overlooking the Rosengarten to be served cappuccinos, hot chocolate and wonderful apple strudel. Such establishments are dotted across the region, ranging from small local farm houses to large and exclusive resorts. Tourism rules here and it is done to perfection, with smiles and friendliness all round.

Cable Car to Frommer Alm

Another time, Christine and I headed off on our own to walk to a place called Stadler Hof. The trail seemed to be visible from our balcony and looked fairly benign. Consulting the map, I guessed that we would have an initial sharp climb up to a track half way up the hill then maintain a fairly level grade around the mountain to our destination. Wow! I called that wrong. We climbed up a horribly steep path for two hours. It was testimony to the need to look carefully at elevations when studying a map. The final destination was spectacular, giving beautiful views of both the Rosengarten and Latemar. Along the way, we had decided that the effort involved justified an apple strudel each at the end, no sharing considered, just one big helping each with lashings of cream. Alas, although the Stadler Hof was very beautiful, it was closed for another two weeks. Fortunately, we had packed an apple and a pear to share. Hardly a reward for effort though.

On our first day in Nova Levante, Rob and Yvette drove us out to Lake Carezza, a nearby attraction. It was hardly a lake however, more like a large puddle of water sitting in a depression, although the magnificent setting and the backdrop of the Latemar covered in snow made it into a lovely scene. The water was crystal clear and gave off a beautiful aquamarine hue. Numerous lake char, a trout like fish, swam in its waters. When Rob and Yvette had arrived a few weeks earlier the lake was even lower and surrounded by snow. As the spring wears on and the melt continues, the lake will fill, not from actual run-off but rather from ground seepage. It is probably this that allows the lake to retain its almost perfect clarity. We re-visited Lake Carezza on our last day in Nova Levante, two weeks later and the lake was a little more than half full. The colours were outstanding. When it is full it must be a real show. By autumn, the lake will have reduced down to a large puddle again and the rescue teams will be out working to net and relocate any lake char caught in drying areas.

Lake Carezza when we first arrived then two weeks later

Life in Nova Levante is dominated by the church bell. All villages in Europe have one or more churches and ringing the bells seems standard practice but in Nova Levante things have got out of hand. The local church has a belfry with what sounds like three bells. Each one will be rung for about a minute then they crank up all of them for several minutes. They ring full peal at 6:30am and again at 7am. Several times, we heard them at 3am, although not the full peal thank goodness. There is a good hammering at noon and a couple of other random blasts throughout the day then one to settle us down around 6pm. Then there are weddings and funerals, which seem to be pretty common.

Christine and I love going food shopping in any one of the three small supermarkets. The assistants enjoy the chance to practice their English and really love helping Christine track down some of the harder to find things (no vegemite though). One time, Christine took two cartons of milk up to a girl to ask what the difference was because they had different descriptions. The girl laughed and turned one carton over to show that they had Italian on one side and German on the other. We always became far more popular when people learned we were Australian rather than British or American. Everyone wants to go to Australia and many have a relative of some kind living there. We found everyone on the town to be extremely warm and helpful. However, Christine did have a fight with a woman in the Post Office, over the cost of mailing postcards to Australia. Christine made the error of saying it was cheaper in Germany so she got shouted at and reminded that she is in Italy so she pays Italian charges. She left without any stamps.

Bands are a big part of the scene in Nova Levante, as they are in many Austrian localities. If there is any excuse whatsoever, the brass band assembles in its finery and marches down the street playing strident marching tunes. They cranked up on two Sundays in a row, headed for the church and mass. It adds a bit of interest.

We certainly dined well. Unlike our time with the Piscicellis in Trisobbio when we did quite a bit of dining out, in Nova Levante we ate in on most occasions apart from ordering in pizza once and having a lunch in Bolzano. Rob kept us in pasta heaven with his incredible creations. He always says it could be better but the truth is it can’t. He cooked ravioli, penne, tortellini with wonderful sauces, tomato, oil and garlic, pesto, marinara and more. Christine fired back with an amazing Hungarian goulash and dumplings, pasties, chicken cordon bleu, a roast dinner and more. Yvette and I were taste testers. We scored it a 10 all draw.

Bolzano

We took a couple of trips into Bolzano, once by ourselves on the local bus and once in the car with the Piscicellis. The bus route was a long drawn out affair up over a mountain and down again using many switch-back roads and hairpin bends. The normal road was closed due to tunnel work, extending the time the trip took but making for a spectacular ride. Bolzano is a small city, pretty enough in places and very much a blend of the old and the new. The central area is mostly blocked to traffic so walking the streets is easy. However, we found that it could quickly heat up, due to its location in a broad basin surrounded by mountains and the thought of being here in the height of summer is a bit much.

Bolzano is the home of Otzi, the famous 5000 year old iceman that was discovered frozen on a glacier in 1991. It was very nearly an Austrian discovery, with the body being found a mere 94m inside Italian territory. We visited the Museum of Archaeology to see the exhibit. The body is preserved in a special chamber under strict climatic conditions and, given its age, is in remarkably good condition. Of more interest though, is the amazing collection of artifacts and clothing that was found scattered on the glacier around the body. There is a backpack, shoes, cloak, cap, belt, dagger, bow and arrows and lots more. Forensic tests showed that he died from an arrow wound in the shoulder and subsequent blood loss. More forensics were able to examine his stomach contents and determine the foods that he had eaten. All this took years to uncover and many times the answers were found to be wrong. They should have done it properly in the first place and called in CSI, who could have solved every mystery in a day or so.

Around Bolzano

On another trip to Bolzano with the Piscicellis, we took the cable car up to Renon. The Renon is a high plateau overlooking Bolzano. It contains a scattering of small villages, a lot of hotels and hostels and a quaint little narrow gauge rail that links everything together. The cable car ride is the World’s longest single line trip, coming out at around 4.5kms. It provides magnificent views of Bolzano, the Alps and the incredible pattern of vineyard plantings on the slopes below. Most people seemed to be travelling up on the cable then hiking back down, a thought that was not even tempting after all the hikes of the last few weeks. We were still suffering from our last tortuous climb and Rob was recovering from a thigh strain so we wisely booked a return journey. Our ride finished at the village of Suprabolzano (Above Bolzano), which was little more than a scattering of hotels and restaurants. We wandered around for a while, had a drink at a café then rode the cable down again. The ride was the star attraction.

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We consider ourselves very lucky to have had the opportunity to experience a little slice of life in the South Tyrols. It is certainly more like living in Austria than Italy and at one point I even made the mistake of starting a statement with “When we get back to Italy….” The people were incredibly welcoming, as they have been almost everywhere we have been. The scenery is amazingly good, especially for the likes of us who used to think Bluff Knoll was a big climb. The culture is interesting, but not that different in the scheme of things. Thanks Rob and Yvette for letting us share in your fabulous Italian adventure.

Click to Play a Video of Our Time in Nova Levante

GALLERIES

Nova Levante

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Page 6 of 25

Naples, Pompeii, Herculaneum, Sorrento – Italy 2017

Sicily, Italy, 2017

Southern Italy 2017

Montenegro, 2017

Korcula, Croatia, 2017

Supertar, Brac, Croatia 2017

Trogir, Croatia, June 2017

Zadar, Croatia, June 2017

Bologna, Rimini, San Marino and Ancona, Italy 2017

Nova Levante / Welschnofen, Italy 2017

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