I have travelled to Italy on five previous occasions. For a variety of reasons I never visited the extreme south known as the Mezzogiorno. This region includes the Italian provinces of Puglia (the heel), Basilicata (the instep), Calabria (the toe), and Sicily (the football like island about to be kicked by the mainland boot). For the sixth visit, I determined to rectify this. Here is a synopsis of my thoughts and observations – a kind of travel diary with attitude.
Travel Comments
Part II: The South of Italy
Heaven is a balcony
Before we left Palermo we took a side trip to the town of Monreale 8 km (5 miles) to the southwest. It was a pretty town with a beautiful duomo (cathedral), cloister and abbey. The interior of the cathedral was ablaze with multi-hued mosaics which covered the walls and vaulted ceilings. We would find only St. Mark’s in Venice with a more striking mosaic interior. It was also where, just behind the cathedral, we had a memorable lunch. From the narrow street, the entrance to the restaurant led to a large dark room. As we entered, the open door at the far wall radiated glaring sunlight. The door led to a tiny outdoor patio which was more of a narrow balcony. The view, however, looking down the Conca d’Oro (the Golden Basin) towards Palermo, was exquisite. The balcony was jutting out from the rear of the building and we were perched a hundred feet above the rocky base. Although the sun was bright and warm, the wind blowing up the basin was quite strong and our table cloth fluttered throughout our meal. Ironically, our waiter had been to Toronto and waxed nostalgic about that city (my birthplace) while my wife and I were entranced by the surroundings he took for granted.
Farewell Sicily
We left Palermo and followed the north coast of the island back to Messina and the ferry docks. We had circled much of Sicily but still had not covered many of its magical places. For instance, the vast western section beyond Monreale, including Segesta, Trapani and Marsala, we left for another time. The island was undoubtedly the high point of this trip. We were glad to have chosen late May for our touring as it was extremely hot, and I cringed when I thought of the tourists wandering about in torrid August. We went directly to the ferry depot for the return to the mainland and again found the procedure very fast. It has been proposed for many years to connect Sicily to Italy by a suspension bridge over the Strait of Messina. The one drawback is that the Strait is also a major earthquake fault line. It was feared that any structure would be doomed. However, with modern technology and the Italian flair for dynamics and design, perhaps that the long dream may soon reach fruition.
The ‘soul’ of the boot
Once on the mainland, we retraced our route for a short distance then veered off towards the south coast and the city of Crotone on the Ionian Sea. Here we found yet another Norman castle. This one, however, was not well maintained and was not open to visitors. We found it hard to believe that the city wouldn’t capitalize on such an available tourist sight. We seemed to be the only tourists interested in the historic castle and the view, while the resident visitors in the secluded castle gardens, were more interested in “making out”. Not that we have given that up, mind you – but not in public places (anymore!). Crotone is a small beach town and our hotel was very pleasant and had a Greek name, a throwback to its Greek roots. It was also painted stark white and had accents of blue. The next morning, we drove along the two lane coastal highway on our way to Lecce via Taranto. We would be driving through the instep/arch of the Italian boot. It was very scenic, with the sea never too far away. Also, there were the usual Norman battlements along the way. I can’t express enough how truly amazing I found these very English castles in what I considered the wrong location.
The original Flintstones’ Bedrock
We took a detour off the coastal highway towards the interior following the signs for the city of Matera. Long ago the inhabitants carved out living spaces out of the solid rock of the mountains. Over time they would add to the dug out rock and build a structure in front of the cave reusing the dug out material. This would be duplicated horizontally and vertically, the only difference being that the newly built area in front of the cave would not have anything built directly above it. In other words, you ended up with a terraced effect. The roof of the new area below was the walking “street” of the area above – and so on. Eventually, the entire mountainside was covered by these strange dwellings. The family would live in the outer area while their most prized possessions, their animals, would dwell in the cave area. Keep in mind that both areas were open to one another, so that it was very communal, to say the least. The origin of the city is thought to have been in the 8th century BC. After the second world war, the conditions of poverty in which the inhabitants of Matera lived scandalized “well-bred” Italy. It was only in 1954 that the Italian government passed a law ordering the residents into new state-built quarters. The cave homes were quickly sealed to discourage the inhabitants from returning after they left. Matera was the most unique, by far, of the many sites we saw.
A Heel by any other name
We returned to the coastal road and continued on to our destination for that evening – Lecce, considered to be the Florence of the south. This charming city is located inland very close to the bottom of the heel of the Italian boot. It turned out to be a very beautiful city indeed. Wide main thoroughfares and well-lit piazzas as well as very attractive public buildings, did in fact rival those of Florence. We found another bonus the next morning. Across the street from our hotel, in a public park, there was a weekly outdoor market and we had luckily happened by on the right day. We had been to several street markets during our trip, but this one was special because it focused on household articles including furniture. These open-air markets which travel from city to city and return each week on the same day are the Wal-Mart equivalent valuewise. However, a new development, in many cities, is the opening of large supercentres with plenty of free parking (see my rant on parking in Italy in last month’s Part I). This is the trend, sort of mimicking the American way and, at the same time, posing a threat to the street markets.
We left Lecce for Bari, but took another detour to the town of Alberobello (literally: beautiful tree). It is in this town that ancient travellers, believed to be oriental, settled and built their own unique structures. These were round brick buildings with a pointed cone-shaped roof made of mortarless interlocking rocks. The town was peppered with these buildings, both originals and new, which are unique to this town and a small surrounding area. It was a very pretty and clean spot, something I can’t say for many of the towns we visited.
Notorious Bari
Our first morning morning in Bari, we dropped off our rental car in the downtown area. We headed back to the hotel which was a long but manageable walk. As we passed the old part of Bari, it was still too early for lunch so we decided to explore the area. We searched for the old cathedral and finally found it nestled in the centre of the ancient historical area. We left the cathedral for our hotel, still a long walk away, but we were in no hurry. Here we were typical tourists, marvelling at the antiquity and the beauty while side-stepping the inevitable dog poo. Suddenly, I felt what I thought were the paws of a Great Dane dog pounce on my back. At the same moment, my wife screamed. I had been pick-pocketed! I felt nothing as my wallet was slipped out of my side pocket; all I felt was the push. Although I did not fall down, it disoriented me (which was the purpose). When I turned to see what had happened, a young man in his early twenties was running away from us and was already 20 feet away. He had an accomplice waiting with a motor scooter on which he hopped, like a western hero mounting his horse, and they disappeared down the twisting, narrow street. We asked the residents where the nearest police station was and started to walk in that direction. A few minutes later, we saw a police car, flagged it down and told the two officers our story.
It appears that the old part of Bari is well known for this sort of thing. The police were not surprised at what happened. They were, however, very helpful. I determined that I had lost only about $80. in Italian lire. I had recently cashed some travellers cheques but my wife and I had split the money and I luckily had paid for the car rental in cash as well. Our main problem was that it was Saturday and all my cards – Visa, Master Card, Drivers License, Health Card, Birth Certificate, etc – were gone too. The detective in charge called the International Card Centre where we quickly cancelled my cards. Fortunately, my wife had her own card so we were not left “cardless”. She also had our passports in her purse and I had my money belt with our travellers cheques. In hind sight, I should have kept all the cards, except one, in the money belt as well. When we had calmed down, we agreed that it could have been worse.
The Love Boat – Italian style
Our Italian cruise ship, the Rhapsody, was to depart from Bari at noon, the day following the pick-pocket incident. This was to be our first cruise. As we arrived at the pier by taxi, we were dismayed at the huge crowd (3 bus loads) of Italian teenagers who were going to be fellow passengers. Here, my wife and I thought, if anything, the passengers would be primarily gray-haired types. Not that we have anything against gray haired old people. Why some of my best friends . . . With great foreboding, we boarded ship. The Rhapsody was painted a gleaming white. It had 6 decks. It looked huge, or so we thought, until we saw a French liner in one of our ports-of-call with more then double the number of decks. Our stateroom (by any other name, an inside cabin) was a windowless wonder. The cabin was compact with twin beds (shades of the Hollywood production code) and a minuscule washroom with shower, yet livable, with lots of mirrors to make things look larger. Our first evening was to be a formal dress, dinner affair which included a cocktail party with the captain. And, I should add, a photo opt for the ship’s photographer, so he could charge outrageous fees for our startled look as we arrived at the cocktail lounge with a beaming captain extending his hand. I’m not sure if the flash bulb or the captain’s smile was brighter.
Pack light = Good, Pack heavy = Bad
Let me tell you now. Never plan an extended land tour plus a sea cruise for the same holiday. For sanity’s sake, as well as suitcase overkill, choose one or the other, not both. The formal evenings eventually totalled only two and the remaining evenings gradually became more casual as the cruise progressed. But, even now, months after our return, some back and arm muscles evoke a twinge of agony when I think of lugging our travel cases about with the added weight of our formal attire. The main dining room was large and set up like a typical upscale restaurant. There were two sittings to accommodate all the passengers. The food was also very good and the service top notch. As the cruise progressed, we got into a routine. We had breakfast and lunch on the open deck buffet, which was less formal but offered huge quantities and varieties of dishes. We had supper in the more formal dining room. After dinner, we usually took a stroll on deck and then went to dance in the lounge or watch the floor show. Although they offered movies, a casino with slot machines and a library, we found the cruise life to be rather restrictive. We remain somewhat ambivalent about future cruises, although we have not ruled them out totally.
The United Nations of the sea
On our cruise, all announcements were made in five languages (German, Italian, English, French and Spanish), the order relating directly to the size of the passenger groups. Land excursions were also usually in two languages, sometimes three. Our original fear, vis-a-vis the students, turned out to be unfounded as they partied very late in the Disco and didn’t show up till quite late in the morning. By that time, we were usually on an offshore excursion. The movie theatre showed several films during the day and evening, but they, too, were in the language of the different groups – primarily German. The English speaking pictures were few and not of interest so we never did see a movie on board.
A rock is an island is a rock
Most days found us at a different port of call, which meant an excursion (optional and at extra cost). We took them all. Our first stop was on the Greek mainland of Peloponnese where we visited Olympia, the site of the first Olympic games in ancient Greece. The ruins were impressive and the main stadium was a hollowed-out field with grass “bleachers”. Our guide was very clear in his explanations, as most of our guides would be. Next day, we stopped at the Greek island of Santorini (St. Irene). I don’t want to burst any bubbles, but I found the Greek islands a major disappointment. Every island we passed, and all except one that we visited, looked like barren rock from the sea. Absolutely not inviting. Not romantic. Not even remotely interesting looking. I suppose what I expected was more of what we saw in Sicily – houses and buildings dotting the mountainside, some in clusters some not, but the overall view breathtakingly beautiful. However, once on the island, the town of Santorini featured the typical stark white houses with their unique architecture – beautiful in their own way. Too bad you can’t see them from the sea. The one exception (remember this is my perception of what I saw – we did not see every island) was the island of Rhodes. We had a full day excursion there. The approach was also much more inviting. The harbour was beautiful from the sea as well as inland. This was also where, at the entrance to the harbour, the Colossus of Rhodes had stood in ancient Greece. An interesting side note was the large influence of the Italians on this island. At one time, they had come and liberated the Greeks from Turkish rule, only to stay themselves. They had done much in the way of restoration of public buildings and the like, and Italian is very common in shops and restaurants. Also prominent were the wall of the city built in the Norman crusade period and the Norman castles on the coastal cliffs.
Apollo, Aphrodite and Croatia
Our first full day at sea with no stops we used to sunbathe by the pool. Or, more correctly, one deck below which was less crowded, but which, much to my dismay, did not have as many topless women. (Not that I was looking!) I’m just thankful I had my sunglasses with me. (The bruises on my arm attest to the fact that my wife was monitoring me). I haven’t seen so many sagging orbs since I brought home those melons from the supermarket in their plastic shopping bag. The next day, we stopped at Dubrovnik in Croatia, a very beautiful port town. Again, a great deal of Italian influence in architecture and art -the Italian passengers were in their glory. Remnants of the not too distant Balkan conflict in this area are visible in the bullet and shell marks on buildings, but the residents seemed very positive for the future.
Addio Italia
Our last day brought us to Venice, our final port of call. The ship would return to Bari the next day and repeat the voyage for the remainder of the summer. It had been a enjoyable cruise. We had had a few rocky nights and both of us were seasick on different days and now we were ready for home. We opted to stay at a hotel near the airport rather than in Venice proper, We were leaving the next day and my dread of those dead-weight suitcases was haunting me. A fast shuttle bus ran by the hotel and we were in Venice in 15 minutes. We trudged around Venice, from the rail station to St. Mark’s Square and back, finally collapsing at the only free public bench we found all day. You see, in Venice proper, if you want to sit down, you must pay for the privilege or use the steps to public buildings or bridges. You pay by ordering a drink. This free bench was in a tiny piazza on a colle (Venetian street), well away from the hustle and bustle of tourists. Next time I visit Venice, I may miss St. Mark’s but I’ll certainly make a pilgrimage to the only free bench in town.
I don’t think we realized how tired we were and it began to catch up on us. So, dragging ourselves, we headed back to the hotel in late afternoon. We had supper at the hotel and savoured one of the best meals of our trip. The next morning, we took the shuttle bus to the airport and waited for our flight to be called.
Fine (The End)
Ralph J. Luciani
ralph@mymac.com
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