Isole Eolie

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Trip Start Jan 25, 2007 Previous
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Entry

  Panarea, Italy
Sunday, June 24, 2007

I have a free week before I need to get ready to leave and fly to London. My friend Denise, who is a born and bred Venetian, and who I met in Australia when she lived there for 5 years, rings and we try and work out where we can meet. I suggest she comes to Sicily, then I say why don't we go to the Eolian Islands, so on a hot Saturday afternoon, here I am at Catania airport picking her up.
It's weird seeing somebody you know only from one context in a completely different one, eg my father at BA airport, and so it is again here in Sicily. It's unusual that I'm here and even more unusual that she's here and that we're going off for a holiday together.
I drop her off at her B&B on Ortigia (the little island of old Siracusa) then give her a trip around the island on my Aprilia, both helmetless and with the cool wind through our hair.
The next day we tour the Duomo and the main piazza in Ortigia, the main Archaelogical site and the Archaelogical Museum (which is fantastic) and have a very nice cena (dinner) with my cousin Letizia and Angelo in Ortigia again. We are generally using my Aprilia, because it's so handy getting around the narrow streets and is so easy to park (basically anywhere). The problem is we are both without helmets and I don't know why, but there seem to be police everywhere. I am nervous as if they stop us they will find out my registration papers are held by the Floridia police, so I will be booked for that as well as not wearing a helmet (I can't bear the thought of all the hassle).
The problem in Sicily is that the law is so randomly applied - most of the time the police don't seem to care if you don't wear a helmet (I have ridden past many), but occasionally one does - you just never know when this might happen - most people take their chance and don't worry about it.
We also go to Noto, where that very day the Italian Prime Minister has reopened the Noto cathedral, which has been undergoing renovations since the dome collapsed 15 years ago.
So finally we head off for the Eolian Islands, going northwards along the coast to Milazzo, an ugly industrial town, which is the jumping off point for ferries and hydrofoils to the islands.
We are headed for Panarea, the smallest of the islands, which was recommended by my cousins. We are picked up at the port by Luca in a little electric vehicle and he drives us through the little laneways to the B&B which he runs with his mother. The little town (280 inhabitants) is swarming with these electric cars as they are the most practical vehicle to get around in - the lanes in general are just wide enough to let 2 of these vehicles pass side by side.
Luca's B&B looks almost brand new (or at least the renovations are recently finished) and is very lovely - I haven't stayed in accomodation as nice as this for a long time, but, hey this is a holiday (and I might not have this opportunity again, as I keep rationalising all the time). We have a self-contained 2 bedroom apartment with kitchen, bathroom, terrace, outdoor eating area above, and an outdoor shower, which I make liberal use of. Luca is a man of many talents - he paints, does woodwork, lays bricks and stones, and sometimes works on the wharves on Stromboli, besides running the B&B.
The next 3 days are spent in visiting 3 islands, so will describe each individually as they are very different from each other.
Panarea
Panarea is the smallest and most exclusive of the islands and is the favourite of the jet set (I'm so thrilled - I've never mingled with, or even seen the jet set but alas I don't see any or if I do I don't recognise them, although there are quite a few luxury motor cruisers around - sometimes I really am so shallow). We decide to do a circumnavigation of Panarea, exploring and stopping wherever we want, so we hire a boat and set off. Panarea has a number of craggy islets offshore from the port so we set off to explore these. As Denise is from a watery city (Venice), and her father was a sailor, she decides that she will do the driving and I am only too happy to be chaffeured around - I'm actually supposed to watch out for reefs and water depth but I sit up the front and just day dream and enjoy the view most of the time (don't tell Denise otherwise I'll be in trouble).
There's actually lots to view as I think today must be International Women's Topless Day. There are lots of other boats out on the water - luxury motor cruisers, yachts, speedboats, and people like us who have hired a small wooden boat with an outboard and a canopy. Most of the women are bare breasted and are very insouciant about it. In a show of solidarity with them I take off my shirt :) In a couple of boats the women are sunning themselves completely naked, and Denise very nicely draws my attention to these (in Italian - oh, Everard if you're interested, there's a nude woman over there).
The day is very hot (hard to say exact temperature but definitely over 40 degrees), and we motor around for a bit, go in for a swim, lie out on the deck to dry off, and repeat this pattern pretty well all day. We have fruit for lunch then lie on the deck in the shade under the tarpaulin and doze off. The heat is ferocious and just lying there sweat trickles off my body - I'm in a heat daze, the boat is rocking gently, I have no energy at all, it's a strange and not unpleasant feeling and I stay this way for a couple of hours I think (my sense of time is completely gone too). The great thing is that I just have to dive off the boat to break the spell, and the sensation of the water is wonderful on my body and my mind wakes up too.
Unfortunately, in the afternoon there are a few jellyfish in the sea and I get a couple of minor stings. At one stage I'm on the boat and hear these screams coming from the water and rush over to see if a shark or something has got Denise, and there she is thrashing about and screaming for all she's worth - a jellyfish has attached itself to her breast (can't remember which one) and she's trying to push it off and getting stung on the hands too. Fortunately the stings aren't too bad and by evening we're both ok (the lady in the next apartment isn't so fortunate - a couple of days later she's also stung on the breast and her hands have swollen up with the stings when she tried to brush the jellyfish off - they must like women's breasts because I don't hear of any men being stung on the chest).
We continue on the rest of the day until early evening when, having seen lots of sea urchins under water earlier, we motor back around to the 'formiche' (ants - a set of rocks which just peep up above the sea) and I do the he-man, hunter-gatherer thing and dive in to get some as we would like to make pasta with sea urchin sauce for dinner tonight in our apartment (eating out every night is expensive).
Unfortunately the tide is running and the water has turned choppy and I only have Denise's swimming pool goggles, a cheap fake Swiss Army knife (my real one was confiscated at an airport), and a plastic bag to do the job. It's very hard trying to get a footing on the rocks below so I can peer down to see where they are, then dive under to prise one off a rock, then as it starts sinking in the water I have to catch it with the same hand that has the knife in it (trying not to stab myself), as the other is holding the plastic bag - all this while being moved about by the waves and being bashed on to rocks. Oh, and I forgot to tell you that the spines on sea-urchins are very sharp and it's very hard to grab one under these conditions and try not to get the spines under your nails.
Anyhow, I finally got my first one and was so proud I stood up and had to show Denise what a fantastic hunter I was, even though it took me about 10 minutes to get just one. I get the hang of it pretty quickly and collect another 9 (and didn't lose any out of the plastic bag, and didn't stab myself, even though I got a few puncture marks in my fingers).
We buy a bottle of wine and look forward to getting back to our apartment and preparing our meal. So, the water for the pasta is heating, the wine is cold, the oil and garlic are melding nicely, and I'm unsuccessfully trying to open the first sea urchin with my cheap blunt fake Swiss Army knife, while my fingers are getting punctured while trying to hold it still. I eventually work out a method (cut the bottom out), but the problem is these are all males and have virtually nothing in them (how stupid I am - I didn't even realise that the sea urchin sauce I've eaten in the past is made from the eggs of the females). I try and find out later how you recognise the females and I'm told that they have a slightly paler purplish colour but there won't be any around because those cunning fishermen from Bari (on the Adriatic) come over and steal them from the local waters. So we have pasta al aglio è olio (garlic and oil), with the merest hint of sea urchin sauce.
Stromboli
Next day we're off to Stromboli, which is basically an active volcanic cone rising sheer out of the water. The last eruption was in February this year and lava flowed down to the sea on the other side of the island. We have a quick look around the town (a film was shot here by Roberto Rossellini, starring Ingrid Bergman, in 1949), then see a sign for Frank International offering a boat tour around the island. There are lots of other companies offering the same but we like the sound of this company - it has a certain resonance about it.
So off we go with Frank - 2 young Italian couples, a young German couple studying for a year at Catania University, a mother and daughter from I can't make out where, and us. Frank speaks English pretty well and to me he sounds like an Italian who has lived in Australia speaks English, so I ask him and he says he lived in Australia between the ages of 6 and 15, then his parents returned to Stromboli (this is not unusual - quite a lot of Italians returned after a few years in Australia as it just didn't suit them. Same thing happened in the US - both my grandfathers lived there in the early 1900's, but some of their brothers and sisters remained).
Frank is a great guide and first takes us to Ginestra (a tiny village of 25 people only accessible by sea), where I climb the steep path and wander around the paths in the incredibly heavy heat. I have a granita before I go back down to the boat as my engine is overheating - granitas are the best thing to have in hot weather - think of a bowl of cold, slushy, flavoured ice sitting in your tummy and cooling you from the inside - much better than a drink or icecream.
We then continue circumnavigating the island, passing by the Sciara del Fuoco, the main area where lava flows when there's an eruption, and you can clearly see the most recent lava. Stromboli obligingly emits a cloud of smoke as we pass by - Frank must have a deal with one of the gods up there (or else prays to a saint). We pass by a few picturesque spots and go for swims, with Frank keeping an eye out for jellyfish, then he takes us out to Strombolicchio. The tour lasts about 3 hours and we get back a bit after 5pm. I have been harbouring a desire to climb Stromboli, the volcano, so Denise goes back to Panarea and I set off up the mountain.
The last hydrofoil leaves at 6.40pm so I have less than an hour and a half to climb a 924 metre volcano that rises sheer out of the sea. I change from thongs into my 10 year old Tevas (open sandals) and set a blistering pace up the mountain in 40 plus degree heat. You will recall my last adventure climbing a volcano (Mt Etna), when I nearly froze. Well I'm wearing nearly the same attire (shorts and short-sleeve shirt) but you could not imagine a more different experience. The late afternoon sun is focusing it's intense heat directly on me (or at least it feels like that), and heat is radiating from the mountain, and within minutes I am just pouring salty sweat from my body (tastes nice). This is a 'lightweight' expedition so I'm only carrying my camera and a half-full litre bottle of water in my hand. The going is steep and hard but I soon pass the 400 metre sign and a little while later I emerge from the low trees and shrub into the lava zone. It's the same thing as before - every step you take (good name for a song) you slide back, there is nothing solid anywhere, and all you can do is grit your teeth and push on, expending 3-4 times as much energy as before.
I don't have any way of telling the time (except look at the sun) and I need to get back by 6.40pm otherwise I'll have to stay the night here (I don't have enough money for a hotel) so at a certain point I make an executive decision, have a break for 5 minutes and drink the rest of the water, take a few photos and turn back. I estimate I'm at around 600-650 metres. On the way back there is a fork in the path - one way (the main way), is the way I came - so I take the other (yes, I know I'm an idiot). Whereas the main path zig-zags down the mountain, this one goes virtually straight down, and is so steep I virtually am forced to run down - this is not easy as the path is very narrow, overgrown with plants (which whip my bare, sweating, suntanned torso - ok girls, get a hold of yourselves), and the surface underfoot is very uneven and made up of lots of little volcanic stones, and as you know I'm wearing sandals and the stones get trapped under my feet and hurt like buggery as I pound down the mountain. This definitely feels like purgatory and I know it will stop, but I don't know when or where, but being a stoic :) I keep going (not without a tiny bit of cursing and swearing) and eventually reach the main path and walk back into the town.
I am a sight to behold - I am sweating heavily all over and my legs are completely covered with black lava dust which has stuck to my wet legs, my shorts are covered with the same dust, my torso has slight cuts from thorns and dustings of yellow from flowers (virtually the whole mountain is covered with yellow flowers). I run into the shipping office to see if I'm in time and it's 6.32, so I buy a ticket and rush to the wharf as I am. As luck would have it the hydrofoil is late so I have time to go down to the beach and clean myself up a bit. I arrive back in Panarea and Denise is relieved to see me - she had called my mobile but I didn't have it with me.
That night I eat like a horse at our regular restaurant - da Paolino (little Paul). Paolino is a large man with a very impressive paunch (always a good sign in a cook), who lived in Australia for 5 years (he asks me to give my regards to East Bentleigh) and likes to come out later in the evening and sit and chat with the guests. By the second night we have been promoted to the best table in the house - the corner one on the terrace with a beautiful view over one of the little islands off the coast and Stromboli. I just love this view, especially one night when you can just see the faintest outline of Stromboli in the night sky (Picture 72).
Paolino offers us his delicious homemade limoncello every night, and also his mint liqueur (homemade from his own mint leaves and Denise likes it even more than the limoncello).
Salina
Next day I decide to go to Salina and Denise decides to stay on Panarea and relax. Salina is the 2nd largest of the islands and the greenest, and has 5 or 6 villages and about 25kms of road. I get started very late and it's almost noon by the time I get there.
I hire a little 50cc motor scooter and go off for a little ride around. Salina is famous for it's sweet wine, Malvasia, and vines are growing in all sorts of inaccessible little places. I want to go on a boat tour of the island at 2.30pm but lose track of time and realise I've only got 8 minutes to ride 9 kms on a very windy road. I ring the company and ask them to hold the boat and roar (actually my scooter sounds more like a mosquito) along the road back to the port. About 1km from the port the engine dies and I think I've run out of petrol - I coast along for a bit down hill then have to push, and arrive at the port red-faced (not from embarassment, but effort). The boat has waited for me so we set off for another lovely cruise - 3rd one in 3 days. It really is the best thing - seeing an island from the sea. Salina has it's own beauty spots and at one stage we float in the crater of an old volcano near where scenes from the film Il Postino (the postman) were shot.
I get back to the port and have an hour to kill before the last hydrofoil back so I stop at a bar and have their special granita (carrot, lemon, orange, and mint), and a cold glass of Malvasia served with biscuits which you dunk in the wine.
The hour goes past very easily.

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11 Denise and me in front of faraglione   Comments!	12 Spray from hydrofoil	13 View from terrace of Luca's B&B	14 Doorway to my room
15 Terrace in front of my room	16 Steps	17 Outdoor shower	18 Stromboli from Panarea
19 Houses boats and islet	20 Stromboli and islet from port	21 Another view of Stromboli	22 Denise on the rocks Panarea   Comments!
23 Pebbly beach Panarea	24 Another islet Panarea	25 Underwear	26 View from my terrace
27 Panarea church	28 Inside Panarea church	29 Confessional in Panarea church	30 Rear of church
31 Kindergarten in Panarea	32 Panarea village	33 Panarea House	34 Panarea House 2
35 Summer bedroom	36 My driver   Comments!	37 Rock spires	38 Blue water
39 Seabird and rocks	40 Hydrofoil about to smash into island	41 Panarea from offshore island	42 Naked lady sunbathing
43 Jellyfish	44 Ten male sea urchins	45 In the cool of evening with a white wine	46 Stromboli beach with boats
47 Four beach umbrellas in a row	48 Another view of Strombolicchio	49 Stromboli terrace	50 Stromboli cathedral
51 Confessional in Stromboli cathedral	52 Coming in to Ginostra	53 Smallest port in the world	54 Only one boat at a time
55 Ginostra house with Stromboli behind	56 Donkey at Ginostra port	57 Approaching Sciara del Fuoco	58 Old lava flows
59 Stromboli belching smoke	60 Most recent lava flow in Feb this year	61 Blue and white	62 Strombolicchio and deep blue sea
63 Is the flag flapping or your mind?	64 Lighthouse and goat's head	65 Another view of Strombolicchio	66 Stromboli lava beach
67 View from 2/3rds of the way up mountain	68 View from lava field to sea	69 'Short-cut' path down mountain	70 Frank International
71 Old man of the Sea	72 Floating in infinity	73 Signor Paolino	74 View from best table at Paolino's
75 Paolino at work in the kitchen	76 Salina Cathedral	77 Artificial swimming pool	78 Seawater swimming pool
79 Another pebbly beach - Salina	80 Pani cunzatu	81 bread, love ... and fantasy	82 Aquamarine waters Salina
83 Sea arch	84 Il Postino beach	85 Fisherman's refuges	86 Italians sunbathing
87 Scene from Salina	88 Another arch and aquamarine water	89 Grottoes and rubber boats	90 Only sand beach on Salina
91 Tiny pebble beach	92 Interesting rock formations	93 Salina from the sea	94 Boat parties near Brucoli
95 Coast near Brucoli	96 Salt collecting naturally on sea rocks	97 Floridia on a Saturday night	98 Moon over inclined palm tree

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