Rome, October 07

 

Rome (Fiumicino and Ostia Lido) 20th September -  3rd October 2007
There are two seaward entrances to Rome on the west coast of Italy. The northern waterway is the Fiumicino canal and the southern one the Fiamara Grande river. The latter appeared the more appealing of the two at 8am when we arrived after an initially boisterous overnight trip. We slowly meandered upriver waiting for the offices to open so that we could contact the many marinas/yards regarding overnight stays. There are many different businesses lining both sides of river. We found that the VHF rarely illicited a response, so we started phoning. Each time we got the office secretary who could only say no.  As we subsequently discovered the power to find that extra little space for a few nights lays with the head honcho, not with the office secretary. The secret is to go alongside a raft of boats, climb ashore, and then go and find the man with the power. Our first experience of this at ‘Delta’ just before the bridge earned us a free nights stay for one night. He said this is the worst time of year to arrive, as the boats are not going out, and all the winter boats are arriving, or waiting to be hauled out. Next day we walked to the Fuimincino canal (about 5 miles!!) to have a look. The marina there was dirty, smelly, badly looked after and a swell was already working its way in. We eventually found a bus back and experienced our first traffic jam in 14 months.  Also within 30 minutes of arriving we saw a 3 car shunt complete with shouting and arm-waving as only Italians can do – fantastic!!
After our free night we drifted back down the river looking for likely spots. We saw a space alongside a wall in a small club, tied up and attempted to get ashore along the crumbling wall. We found the head honcho who shook his head gravely when he heard where we had tied up, and how we had got ashore. ‘Didn’t you see the signs ?’ he said. ‘Oh you mean the small sign only in Italian hidden behind the other boat tied to the same wall ?’ we didn’t reply. After he got over his disgust he introduced us to Jo and Alan, an English couple who had job swapped to Rome, and kept their catamaran in the yacht club. They were off to Corsica that night, so we could use their berth for up to 2 weeks. This was fantastic news. We asked the ‘boss’ what the price was , and we both heard – ‘tonight you are guest, then €50  3 nights.’ Excellent value we thought. Alan and Jo gave us a lift to the supermarket , we cooked them some supper, and helped them untie their lines when they left at 1am. We happily occupied their berth alongside the wall that wasn’t falling down but had listened with interest to their comments of what the lower reaches of the river are like in a blow.
The local town south of the river where the marina touristico is based is called Ostia Lido. It is a residential/seaside suburb servicing Rome by frequent trains. It also has substantial social housing which makes life on public transport full of colourful characters. The next day we finally found the train station in Ostia after another long walk. We subsequently found  that it is dead easy to get a bus to the train station on the same 75 minute train ticket. This ticket costs €1 and covers all transport in and around Rome- what a bargain! Thirty minutes on the train and a direct change to the underground all on the same ticket we were in the heart of Rome, our first view the Circo Massimo – the ancient city’s main chariot racing venue, which had a capacity for 400,000 spectators in it’s glory days.

What a city !! We wandered the ancient city centre remains for free in complete awe, visiting the colisseum, circling the ruins of the Aventine and Palatine hills, the Roman forum – heart of the senate, Imperial Forum – surprisingly intact remains of ancient Rome's shopping centre. With a little imagination you could still see Julius Caesar, Tiberius, Claudius, Nero making their way from their luxury real estate on the hill to the centre of power of most of Western Europe.

The roman forum excavations, in the heart of the city, free to enter.

 

 

After a cheap and cheerful tourist menu for €15 each, we headed back to the train, and back to the boat at our little private yacht club, for a peaceful night tied up! What bliss!

The colisseum – showing the underfloor changing rooms of the gladiators. The wooden floor had trap doors with lifting platforms to raise the animals taking part in the games.

www.enjoyrome.co.uk has a useful tourist guide, particularly highlighting what can be visited for free.  We spent several days going in and out of Rome on the bus-train-underground trip seeing most of our list of sights. You really could spend 6 months here just exploring. Every corner of Rome has something interesting to see. For us the favourites were the Pantheon – the most complete ancient Rome structure in the city – with a 9m hole in the perfect domed roof and holes in the marble floor to drain away the rain, and the Roman forum where you can just take along a picnic lunch and a book and sit on some old pillars lying in the ruins watching the world go by.

Inside the Pantheon, the oldest surviving Roman structure.

The hole in the roof. Rain comes in and drains through holes in the floor.

We also visited the catacombs out on the Appia antica (old roman road leaving the city gates), the extensive burial chambers of the first christians in Rome.  We visited one of the six sites, it is thought that there are 50 others as yet un-excavated. The one we visited alone had 7 miles of tunnels and had been the resting place of 100 000 bodies, including the apostles Peter and Paul at some time, before their remains were moved elsewhere when they became saints.
On another occasion we left the final resting place of St Peter at the Vatican, the famous landmark square, the Pope was out, and walked along the Janiculum hill with superb views out over the city, to Trastavere, a laid back neighbourhood with many good value trattorias. We ate a feast for €10 including wine! If you are sensible, Rome will not cost a fortune to eat out but beware of buying property. As there is a ruin around every corner there is also one under every building, or possibly concealed in the walls of the existing one. One wealthy land owner who bought property in central Rome to build a hotel in the 1930s,  upon digging the first hole found a temple. 'No problem', he thought, 'it will look great beside my new but slightly smaller hotel'. Unfortunately there was another one under the next plot and more under the rest of the land. In the end he gave up and donated the entire site back to Rome.

A bummer of a real estate deal

We were by now getting quite cocky about knowing our way around, and we returned to Ostia station at 10pm one night getting on the no 62 bus. All the bus routes do a figure of 8 route passing via the train station on each loop, so when we realised the bus was going the wrong way we thought we'd just sit tight and go back to the station. When the driver noticed that he only had a couple of Inglesi left on board he asked us where we wanted to go. He then gave us the unwelcome news that this was the last bus and it did not return to the station. By this time we were out in an enormous park miles from anywhere, truly in the middle of nowhere. The driver showed us where to wait for a bus that would take us back to the station, but he didn't know how long we might have to wait. So we stood on the side of a dual carriageway running through the middle of this park/ forrest, in the pitch black, not really knowing where we were, without the number for a taxi, with not a soul in sight, trying not the think about Ostia's violent past and reputation as the place where a blind eye was turned to mafia-style shootings!
When the bus finally came we had to jump into the middle of the road in front of it shining a torch on ourselves for the driver to see that someone was waiting at the stop – his face was a picture, he really wasn't expecting to pick up any passengers in this neck of the woods!! Back at the station we sought out a taxi to take us safely back, and had to knock up the night-watchman to let us into the marina. You'd think that we had learnt our lesson, but the next night we got on a bus going the wrong way again!!! This time we realised after 2 stops and walked back to the station to wait for one going the right way.  Once your ticket is validated, for a period of 75 minutes, on train, tube or bus you don't show your ticket to the driver so there is no natural opportunity to check that it is the right bus!!! After that excitement we never had a problem again.

Back at the marina we thought we'd check with the boss man about our continued stay. He said he told us that the cost is '2 nights you are guest then €50 per night'. Not quite what we heard last time. The unspoken rule is that this is cash in hand and goes in the yard staff pocket, not via the taxman! We were quickly learning that in Rome nothing is as it first seems!! We'd heard that there was some bad weather coming from the west and looking at the river entrance, and hearing the comments of various people it was becoming clear to us that in a westerly a huge swell works it's way into the river creating standing waves. As we were moored alongside a bank in the main river, we predicted that this was not going to be a comfortable place for Matador to remain, so we were making plans to move to the Porto Turistico just south of the river entrance, with a reputation for rip-off prices.  We offered to pay the boss then and there so we could move off in the next day or so, but he just said 'later'. That was the last we saw of him, as the next day was his day off, then he was somewhere else ! When we gave up waiting and tried to pay the girl in the office, the price was €75 per night, no free nights!!!!! We firmly told her what we had agreed with the bossman, left what we owed and left.  Who knows if it found it's way to the right person or not!
On entering Porto Turistico you have to speak to the control tower by VHF radio. They do not speak any English. They told us to wait. We waited and waited, circling in the entrance. Finally someone came along in a boat and asked what we were doing. 'You have to call the tower for a berth' he said in Italian. 'We did' we said. 'Ah ' he said, and after a short discussion in rapid Italian with the tower,  led us to a vacant berth. Once safely tied up he told us to go to the office 1km away along the prom. It is a huge marina. The office was closed early for lunch for 3 hours. So we went to Rome instead, intending to return at 6pm before the office closed at the stated closing time of 6.30pm. When we returned at 5.50pm the office was closed already!
The next morning we walked to the office again. The girls in the office were very friendly, spoke English and the price was only €44 per night, dropping to €22 after 1st October - so not so much of a rip off really, considering that there is little swell in this marina and all facilities are available. But we could only stay in this berth for 1 night, so then we had to return to the boat and move it to a new place, where we could still only stay for a few nights, and would have to move again.  No problem.
We took the opportunity to visit more of Rome's sights, and to go to the excavations of Ostia Antica. This is outside the city, to the north of Ostia Lido. At the time of ancient Rome it marked the coastline, and was the vital port of the ancient city of Rome, with a population of 100,000. After the decline of Rome’s power it gradually silted up and was stripped of most of it’s marble and left to be covered by alluvium deposited by the Tiber as the river changed its course though the years. It was re-discovered in 1909, and is now an extensive site of warehouses, meeting places, baths, dwellings, cafés, temples and theatres. It takes at least half a day to cover the site, and is pleasantly tourist-free. It is possible to take a picnic lunch and sit in the courtyard of the remains of one of the merchants houses.  As it is more low-key than Pompei the mosaics have mostly been left in situ,  leaving you with the feeling that the Romans have only just left. It's another place not to be missed!!

Ostia Antica -the port of Rome
 

We won’t fill the entire website with descriptions of all the sites of Rome, and we could. Open any guide book and be astounded, not as astounded as you will be when you see it for yourself. Suffice to say that Rome could keep you entertained for months, would we have stayed longer? Yes.

The column of Trajan, from 112AD with a detailed story of what happened during the campaign in what is now modern Romania.

The drinking water flows freely all around Rome, just bring a bottle

The Trevi fountain-toss a coin over your shoulder into the fountain to ensure you will return to Rome

St Peters square – waiting for an audience with the Pope

We tried to negotiate a berth for the winter, to return in November after further cruising, as it was still too early for us to consider starting our winter lay up. This proved to be further opportunity for modern Romans to practice their favourite art of rip-off.  After declining an offer to pay the list price in cash up front for 6 months to secure a berth with no paperwork we decided to leave. But first the office had to deal one more blow to our faith in fair dealings. To be fair, rip off is a bit harsh, we have discovered it to be an Italian, predominantly Roman sport to eek just a bit more out of you than you expected. It’s not the quantity that counts, it’s how cleverly you can obscure or withhold the whole story.  The published price list states that there is a weekly rate which amounts to the 7th night for free and following that a monthly rate with further discount. Having been there for 10 days we  calculated 10 days at the weekly rate, however the office informed us that we didn’t qualify for this discounted rate as although we had been in the marina for 10 days, we had at their request, moved to a different berth mid-way through our 10-day stay, thus not completing a 7 day period on either berth, and as the berths are rented from different berth holders the published rates did not apply! This news given with a smile and a shrug! By now we had given up arguing against logic like this. We paid up and waved goodbye to rip-off Rome. We were not disappointed or dis-heartened, we were just astounded by how many opportunities the modern-day Romans take to extract a little bit more money off you than you thought you'd agreed. Hardly worth the bother, it really is a game for them, a source of irritation to us in an otherwise fabulous city. But rest assured, they don't just do it to foreigners - anyone is fair game. As an example we were in an Indian restaurant in central Rome. There is always a cover charge per person, we were used to that, and by law the menu has to state how much it is, usually €1.50 or €2 each.  This restaurant it was €4 per table, fair enough we thought. When the neighbouring table of 4 Italians got their bill, they queried the cover charge of €8. The waiter smiled, shrugged, and lifted up the tablecloth – 'it's two tables together' he said!!!!  You just have to admire the nerve!
For information, the price in the marina drops by 50% to €22 per night from 1 October, making Porto Turistico a bargain at this time of year, sorry nearly got you, there is a 2% additional charge for water. It is still a good deal being so close to Rome, but it may still be potluck as to whether you can find a berth. Our friends on Marlin had trouble getting in a few days after us. The control tower would not admit them, and we had to go and negotiate on their behalf with a private contractor who operates some other berths in the marina to find a short stay for them while they circled outside the marina.  All this the day after the office had told us that there was plenty of room for our friends to come.  Eventually we were successful, more euros changing hands, but if we had not already been 'inside' Marlin would have had to go up the river and take their chances there. It sounds as if it is easier to get a place in high season as the locals are out using their boats and anchoring around the islands, but then you have to suffer the city heat of Rome, and high season prices.
To explain what we have found in numerous marinas in Italy: the berths are all sold to private individuals and they in turn allow third party “ommagiotori” to let them out to visitors when not in use. This is why often there is more than one supplier of visitor berths in the same marina and why you should not accept the first price or rejection on the radio, but they hotly guard their charges, and will rarely offer  information regarding other competitor Ommagiatori, unless you ask,  seems that we got a lucky break.

The Tuscan Islands, September 2007

Approaching Marina di Campo, South Elba

Elba 8th September 07
A pleasantly sunny blue day greeted us as we approached Marina di Campo. We found a pleasant anchorage, not too busy, no speedboats, with a chilled out little tourist town, relaxing after a busy summer period. We stumbled over a few Italian words to try and find a bar that would be showing the NZ/Italy rugby game - a bit of a challenge as Italians don't understand games with odd-shaped balls, only the ubiquitous soccer. We were successful though, and as we finished our salads on the terrace of a harbour-side pizzeria the proprietor wheeled out the most enormous flat-screen and set it up for the half-dozen interested clients. Not surprisingly the All Blacks trashed Italy 57-17 which was a bit embarrassing to watch in their home country, but they put up a spirited defence.

After lunch we did some shopping and embarrassed ourselves some more in our stumbling Italian, enjoying the small supermarkets with all types of pasta, proscuitto, and cheap local fruit and veg. It  was a treat after Corsica prices.

Next day dawned cloudy and with a little southerly swell creeping into the anchorage, so we sailed around the top of the island to Portoferraio, which Nelson proclaimed the most complete harbour for it's size in the world. The mud swallowed our anchor among the many other cruising boats, some of which had clearly been sat there for some time. We timed our trip ashore in the dinghy so as not to cross in front of the many passenger ferries that zip in and out of the port. You can't help feeling very vunerable in a tiny inflatable with a not-so-powerful outboard engine, when crossing the path of these big ships.
The town is a warren of alleys, staircases, expensive boutiques and down to earth pizzeria and friendly bars. The city walls turn red-orange in the setting sun. Just the sort of place that we would find very hard to leave.

Our first evening ashore we met the very unhappy crew of a huge motorboat. Their captain was felt to be incompetent and prone to drunkeness, and had nearly run the boat aground a few times. They were all working their notice and were clearly all ready to 'jump ship'. For this boat to travel from Rome to Elba, it had cost $30000 in diesel. At the speed they travel it does not bear thinking about a drunken captain, who does't bother to keep a proper watch! We commiserated with the crew in various bars until 4am. Alongside their uphappy 30m superyacht , we climbed into our 2.65m rubber flubber, cranked the outboard alive on first pull and motored carefully back to our home. As we crossed the fairway, a late night ferry came around the corner, and we held our breath until our little ship got us clear of his path shining our tiny torch at them to warn of our presence – they are obviously used to this, as they swept their path with a spotlight on the way in, and clearly knew that we were there.
We shopped and wandered for a couple of days, while it was a bit overcast, and messed about in the huge boatyards looking for superyacht rubbish that could be usefully recycled. We found some perspex for a flopper-stopper (more on that later) and some stainless steel to fix our sprayhood frame, and were very pleased with our finds.

The next sunny clear day we hired a 100cc scooter for €32 and wobbled off for a tour of the island.

We saw everything but somehow managed to miss both of Napolean's houses. The scooter only just dragged us up to the hill towns and it took an hour or so for the back seat driver's white knuckles to relax, but it was a really enjoyable way to see the interior of the island. We both had very sore bottoms after clinging on for about 80 miles, and mine was even sorer, as a wasp went up the leg of my shorts and got his revenge when he couldn't get out again. The final section of the island didn't even have a real road, so after bumping our way back to Portoferraio we were glad to deliver the scooter back to the shop and have a walk about as the evening light faded.

After this and a shop in Italian supermarket heaven co-op (complete with pidgeons roosting in the rafters) we were ready for the next adventure.  A short sail to Porto Azzuro where we were keen to see the citidel, but on inspection we realised that it is still a prison so after a slightly rolly night in the anchorage, we set off again the next morning in a frustrating south-easterly to the next island of Giglio (pronounced Jeelyeo) and anchored in a large bay on the west coast.

The town of Giglio perched on the top of the hill beckoned us to explore, so being mad and English we set off in the midday sun to climb the track to the top. It is 1km inland and400m above sea level, so the track averages a 1 in 4!!! We arrived at the top very hot and pink, gasping for a drink despite having consumed 2 litres on the way up, but were rewarded by finding posters announcing that it was the festival of Sant Mamiliano. The poster promised a Palio, festivities in the main square, music and midnight fireworks, so we decided to stay for the day.

The view from the top to both sides of the island

The old walled town was a real treat, even more tiny streets and staircases than Portoferraio, but complete with washing and flags hand-made from scraps of brightly coloured  material

The 'Palio' turned out to be a donkey derby
-note the risk assessment for the spectators positions ( will it break or won't it?!! )

 

By the end of the fireworks at 1am there was a huge queue for the bus to go back down-hill to the anchorage. We decided to walk down instead, and as our original path was treacherous and unlit, we took the road instead. This turned out to be 5km trek as the road twisted back and forth away from the anchorage, and we arrived at the bottom 45 minutes later just after the bus! Ah well, at least we walked off some of the calories consumed during the day!

Feeling inspired by all this exercise we went on another walk the next day to find a good swimming spot. At the end of the penisula, there was a track down to a small beach with clear turquoise water. It was steep enough to make a goat bleat, but we half climbed, half clambered down to the beach. We were a bit perplexed by the amount of equipment and bags the other few occupants of the beach had with them, including sun loungers and picnic hampers.  We assumed that there must be a road nearby, but the question was answered when they packed up their stuff and carried it all up the path we had just come down, to be followed by a coastal track of at least 3miles back to the town.Italians just cant sunbathe without the lounger.

After a look at the forecast, and some advice from one of the locals that the anchorage suffers from downdraughts from the hills, and is not great holding, we decided we had to head for the mainland to shelter from some strong winds that would come first from the north, then from the south.
We headed for a place called .........

Porto Ercole 17th September, Mainland Italy
to be known hereafter as Port E-Coli, as it was about as welcoming. We followed a german-flagged boat into the marina, and heard him calling the capitanerie, marinero, or ormeggiattori on the radio in Italian – no reply. Little chance for us if we called up in English.
Both boats circled the port looking for a space. Still no answer from the authorities. We found a space alongside a large powerboat on the end of a hammerhead pontoon, and settled down for a nights sleep. The German boat went alongside a similar boat elsewhere. The wind started to blow outside, so we were going nowhere! At 8am an Italian appeared on the boat next to us and with much arm-waving told us we had to move. We asked where we should go. Don't care – you must go!-Not here! We refused to budge until somewhere could tell us where to tie up. Along came one of the marineros, who also told us to move. He was a bit more understanding of the plight and told us to go alongside a fishing boat on the quay as the fleet  would not be going out in this weather.
So we moved off, only to find that there were no spaces alongside a fishing boat as all the boats were in to avoid the weather!
We found a spot normally occupied by a dive boat and tied up. The German boat had also been kicked off of his spot and was circling again, still trying to make contact by radio with anyone who could help. After a couple of hours the dive boat returned wanting his space, so we moved again to the spot reserved for the crane to haul and launch boats. The german boat by now had anchored in the middle of the harbour and had given up trying to contact anyone. Its the first time we've ever beaten a German to a space and we were quite proud of ourselves!
We waited on the boat all day in case anyone wanted us to move again. By evening is was clear that no boats would be launched that day, so we went out for a pizza. We had lots more arm-waving and shouting as we sat at a table made up for 4 people, instead of the un-made table for 2. Resisting the urge to tell him where to put his pizza we tolerated a mediocre overpriced meal and went to bed early to avoid further contact with the locals.
This was our first experience of a mainland harbour. What happens is that there are various pontoons owned and operated by different ormeggiatori, and no overall control of the harbour. The pontoons are full of local boats, and it is in no-ones interest to be helpful to find a spot for a visiting boat. By September the local boats are no longer going out, and they have not yet been hauled for the winter. It also seems to be increasingly common that boats are left afloat all through the winter, so don't expect it to get easier late in the season.  Bear in mind that Beneteau and Bavaria are churning out 5000 and 1700 boats per year respectively,  and they don't all get wrecked in the first month, so the chances are that many of them are parked somewhere in the Med.
After hearing the crane start up at 8am, we untied and left without a backward glance. The name of the village associated with the harbour is Grotte – just about sums up what we thought!! At least it was free and we weren't anchored out in a storm!

Giannutri 19 September
We made a last attempt on a Tuscan island, unspoilt Giannutri. We headed for the main cala with the anchor ready to go, and guess what – we were chased away by arm-waving and shouting. We went around the corner out of their way and anchored in clear water, tying the stern of the boat to the rocks. We had a lovely swim and snorkel, hoping to see some marine life, as this island is in a protected marine reserve. There were a few fish and lots of sea-urchins, but nothing special.

Stu dodges sea urchins to tie us to the rocks with sacrificial rope ends

 

We went for a walk ashore to find the hotel and surrounding houses in advanced states of decay. The roman villa was closed for 'works in progress' though everyone clearly visits it via a hole in the fence. They seem to apply 'works in progress' to anything that can't even meet the basic Italian Health and Safety requirements.
By 8pm, just after dark, the wind started to rise and it was plain that we would not have a comfortable night, and it may become untenable. Luckily we had made the ends of our lines tied ashore sacrificial, so from the dinghy we could cut them and move off quickly. The swell was making even this difficult already, so we got out just in time. Within an hour there was a force 7, blowing directly into the anchorage.  As we did not relish the prospect of heading back to shelter in Porto E-Coli, we turned south and made a fast overnight passage bound for Rome......


 

Corsica, 16 August to 8 September 07

Sorry it’s November and only just started to put into the blog all the travels since middle August but we've been busy travelling and we have been trying to collect a large enough number of descriptive words to adequately convey what we have seen and felt over the last few months.
16 August, Woke to a fine morning and set sail for the famous Bonifacio straits via the Maddelena Islands . For the first time in ages (or so it felt) we had a sailing wind that wasn’t on the nose and a trip of not too many miles, so there was little in the way of pressure to keep speed up. So we allowed our speed to raise and fall as the wind backed, dropped, headed, increased and veered across the straits and as we closed the Corsican coast the scenery rose up to astound us. The magnificent mountainous backdrop to the rocky coast dappled with turquoise bays and coves.

We headed into Porto Santa Amanza-not a port but a deep bay surrounded by sandy beaches and slashed by an impressive Calanque,( pronounced like a bang on the head with a tin pan.) Deep in the bay the shelter was good and after poking around quite a lot we found good holding and swinging room for the forecast blow tomorrow.  Leaping from one anchorage to another seems to be a popular pastime in this area. The Straits of Bonifacio funnel the wind and increase its strength by about 2 forces on average and this wind , east or west in direction travels up the coast for several miles and out into the Tyrrhenian sea to the east for 60 + miles. It does however make for some lively sailing close inshore along the Eastern coast of Corsica .
The morning sortie to the shore revealed an up-market beach bar with matching prices, a few holiday chalet developments and a handful of houses, but little else. No shops, no bread, no supplies or water. By the time we returned to the boat the wind was already rising and it was safer to stay aboard and be on watch for boats taking refuge from the windy exposed anchorages around the area. Many are charterers with little experience of anchoring safely. A source of occasional amusement unless they are too close or upwind of you. The concept of a swinging circle seems often too confusing to consider and as for the wind changing direction whilst at anchor??......
We met up with a New Zealand yacht in the anchorage and a good evening was had. They were able to offer lots of tips on future anchorages as they had been sailing for 10 years and were now on their way back to NZ.  In return, we were able to advise them on up to date prices etc. for their trip along the south of Spain on their way out of the Med.
We sat out a gale but by the 19th we were starting to run out of fresh food and the wind was still blowing from the west so we decided to head north up the coast in the lee of the land. Our initial plan was to anchor in Rondinara. It was extremely full but a short stay was rewarded by a swim in some of the clearest waters seen yet. We decided to press on with the good wind and get into Porto Vechio with it’s good shelter and supermarkets.

Sat out another gale here. When it was possible to leave the boat we investigated the surrounding area finding a buzzing camp site in peak seasonal frenzy.  On the 21st we moved across the bay to just under the town of Porto Vecchio and from there were able to do shopping, internet and get water, which, now we are in Corsica, is free for the taking and with no hassle. In all fairness they seem to have more water on this island but still the attitude is very different here. It’s not seen as an opportunity to fleece you. Porto Vecchio is a very pretty ancient hill top town but even in the peak of the holiday season, although heaving with tourists it doesn’t seem to have sold it’s soul. The reason for this would become clear in 8 days.
22nd Our friends on Marlin caught us up in the anchorage. Lots of adventures to swap tales of late into several evenings. What good company they are! Martin and Linda left the UK a month or so before us and we first met them in Gijon, Galicia. We bumped into them a couple of times along the way and when we arrived in Lagos for the winter, there they were again. They  left Lagos about a month before us and we hadn’t seen them since then.

26th  After a failed shopping expedition (everything closed) in 35 degrees, we set sail for San Ciprianu a few miles up the coast. Described as “a delightful bay with crystal clear water”. Well it is! Unfortunately most of France and Italy seem to have heard of it as well and they come here en masse with their speedboats and jetskis . It seems it has been given over to small high speed craft and they buzzed us all day and well into and after sunset, water skiers in tow. At sunrise they started again, and so by about  8am we were all agreed on moving.

Back to P. Vecchio and off for a massive shopping trip involving an extremely long wait for a return taxi , the only one the very kind bar manager could locate . After the restock was safely loaded from the very full dingy, Steph set about stowing and I got the boat underway back south for a fresh attempt on Rondinara.  This time the bay was only half-full and fantastic swimming was had by all. More socialising and relaxation. Dinner aboard is a ritual exchange process. Tonight Steph is doing Vietnamese Stew, a curry type dish of considerable taste, the recipe and introduction to which we have to thank Marlin for back in Lagos. The water here is so clear that whilst snorkelling on the surface, Steph was able to read the headlines on a newspaper dropped overboard by somebody, on the bottom in 20 feet of water.

We had all agreed that, although it meant back-tracking, we didn’t want to miss Bonifacio. The NZ couple had described it to us, and we were prepared to be amazed by it.
The next morning 29th headed off 9.00 am for Bonifacio. Sailed virtually all the way although the wind was light.  What an entrance and what an enchanting city.

The harbour is a slit in the limestone cliffs turning in on itself, forming a natural harbour. It possibly sheltered Odysseus' fleet of ships. We anchored in a cala opposite the town quay, tied to the cliff stern-to about 6 feet away. You don’t see this kind of anchoring in the UK, but here with no tide to worry about it works well although it can get a little un-nerving on occasions and it’s always worth thinking through your exit plan in the event that things get nasty.

That evening we also were joined by an Australian boat called Mud Skipper. Really nice cruising guys and a boat stuffed full of invention and all home-made, from the gimbled galley- yes the whole galley, not just the stove! to the double bed which could be angled so that it is horizontal whatever the degree of heel on the boat – they quite literally tack the bed when they tack the boat. The boat was featured in one of the yachtie magazines a while ago.

That evening we had a wander round the old town, dinner ashore and a drink in one of the harbour-side bars where the rich and sometimes famous hang out looking up at their towering luxury yachts. They can’t get lost here because they just follow the red carpet back to their boats and are of course helped on board by their crew. We rowed our dinghies back across to the anchorage comforted by the knowledge that our stay is at least free, despite what it says in the pilot book.
The next morning it started the Bonifacio blow. We were not expecting to be affected tucked into this little hole but how you can be drawn to false conclusions! Whilst the quay opposite was enjoying a quiet summer day and the top of our mast recorded 5 to 8 mph winds the water whipped us in the face, the wind drove onto the side of the hull and the anchors started to drag. By the end of the day Mudskipper and ourselves had laid a total of 5 anchors and about 300m of chain and rope extending nearly to the other side of the cala. It eventually worked and our comfortable 6 foot stern clearance from the rocks was restored. It was too windy to leave the boats that day. There was plenty to keep us busy, Marlin’s dinghy flipped upside down, complete with engine and by the time we got it going again there wasn’t much of the day left.
The town is a real treat, an ancient citadel perched on the top of a chalk plateau, at some points overhanging the edge. Whilst at first you think that you wouldn’t feel comfortable living up there in case it crumbles away underneath you, once you see the view from up there, you become  bewitched by it.

After a couple more days exploring the tightly packed streets of the citadel, and absorbing the views, we decided to move off north again . It took 2 hours to untangle and raise the anchors but no real problems. The ground was however pretty foul and it is advisable to attach tripping lines to your anchor /s here.
We motored and sailed the trip back up to Porto Vecchio and anchored back off the camp-site where we had been 2 weeks previous. We went ashore to the now deserted camp-site. Two weeks earlier we couldn’t get into their 40+ table pizza restaurant because it was so busy with queues of people waiting. Now, after the end of August we were one of 2 tables. We were told that the whole site facilities , bar shop and resturant complex would be closed by the 15th of September. The town was equally and pleasantly empty. The next morning we went ashore to clean the dingy and when finished had a beer at the deserted bar sitting in glorious sunshine. In the time it took to down two beers the wind came up so much that we struggled to row against it back to the boats. Marlin dragged anchor and was in danger of stranding on the beach. In the furious manoeuvring to get her off the mud they managed to capsize the dingy again, we were fortunately nearby to rescue floating shoes, oars, bags and the like and as the panic declined and they were safely in deeper water  the dingy was restored to it’s more practical orientation. Several oil changes and tank cleanings later the engine once more fired into life and apart for a couple of trapped water bubbles in the fuel lines it lives on to see another day. We all returned to the old anchorage under the town where we all slept better although we weathered 2 more gales of 30 + knots. Some boats dragged at 3 am at 35 knots and there was a bit of shouting and hand waving as they snagged and bumped their way through others who had taken the time to anchor properly. We stayed on board for two days and one or two more dinner parties.

Over the next few days we searched for a car hire that would not mean selling time shares in the boats. What a shock from Portugal where in the winter we paid €75 for 7 days hire. Our searching paid off with a visit to a small doorway of a house in the town centre, over which hung a small car hire sign, we stood in the hallway whilst the woman haggled and translated our requirements on the phone. The car was the courtesy car for the local panel beater, probably a reclaimed write off but it had 4 gears, so we  hired a it for €68  to explore the interior for the day. We were shown a suggested route by the Tourist info office, we thought we could see more than they suggested but it was so fantastic that we barely completed it in the day. The mountains tower over the old town in the distance and the craggy pinnacles of rock spike the occasional cloud. This area is heaven for walkers, climbers and all sorts of outdoor pursuits, the scenery is what chocolate boxes were made for.

We felt it would be easy to stay here for the winter and engross ourselves in the mountain life but there is so much more to see before the end of the sailing season we were compelled to move on. Not before one more meal ashore which rated as probably the best so far. €25  got you anything on the menu , all 3 courses. There was so much food and it was exceptional. The view out over the anchorage looking down on our boats was beautiful.
Marlin were meeting friends in Porto Vecchio so it was time for us to part company once again. We were heading north toward Elba and the Tuscan islands. Another change to our original planned route but the lure of Rome and desire to see more of Italy was just too tempting. En route we decided to go all the way up to Elba without stopping – besides we had a deadline to meet – one of the first   Rugby World cup game was on the next day and NZ were playing Italy!
These overnight passages are quite enjoyable now we don’t see so many fishing pot markers in these deep waters. Dawn saw Elba looming in the distance.