The Best Laid Plans

For my belated 70^th birthday present to Mike:

• Rent a car for 24 hours
• Drive in a leisurely fashion across Sicily to Palermo, allowing 6 hours for 275 km to get to
• Teatro Massimo in Palermo,
  
  world  famous for the building and its acoustics [and for the fact that The Godfather was shot on the steps] for the 1830 performance of Mozart’s Don Giovanni , before which we would identify a good restaurant, admire the building and the well dressed opera goers, have a glass of wine & some antipasti and stroll into our seats
  
  
  

  

  The ceiling.....

• Enjoy a wonderful dinner, sleep well and drive gently back the next morning.

We loaded our tidy clothes into the car exactly on time and set off.  An hour later, outside Gela, I said “what’s that noise?”  - “Just what I was wondering” – with that, the car ground to a halt, on a hill.  We called the hire agent who unhelpfully shouted “Push! Push!” at me – we had already understood it was a Toyota and would not start unless the clutch was depressed.  I called back a second time to no avail, so rang the excellent  Antonio of RAVI in Marina di Ragusa [who, we learned later, was painting his kitchen & performed the whole exchange with the phone wedged to his ear while he continued with his roller] & explained.  He made some calls & promised a replacement would be there in 30 minutes.    Well, even if it was an hour, it wouldn’t be too bad – we’d still make it.

We ate our lunch on the hot, windy hillside, being bombarded by hundreds of tiny black flies that made straight for our ears [the car, of course, being an oven]. [Another good reason for my habitual bandana – and Mike’s large cotton hanky – soon wrapped round our heads]

Three hours later, long after we had finished our water, the replacement car arrived.  By which time we had progressed through “well, we might not have time to shower & change” to “if we are really lucky we might make the second half”.

Not pausing to see if the recovery vehicle had managed to load our broken Toyota (we didn’t care – sorry) we shot off.  Fangio, aka Michael Stewart, at the wheel.  Fortunately the dashboard was shaped so the passenger couldn’t see the speedometer.  So the passenger sat, trying not to cling on to her seatbelt, exclaiming breathlessly “My goodness, what stunning landscape!!”  “Gosh, that’s an old aquaduct!”  “Oh, look, this is where they crossed two rivers!”  “No wonder General Patten chose this route” as the various features of this famous old road shot past at little less than the speed of light. 

Arrival on the outskirts of Palermo slowed us down, as we hit the peak of the rush hour.  (You have to understand, the rush hour in Palermo lasts from about 0600 to 2200).  We saw not a single local car without either missing wing mirrors, scraped doors, dented fenders or beaten in lights.  And then there were the scooters

– a two second pause in the traffic – perhaps because of a small prang at a roundabout, of which we saw three in half an hour – and about 40 of these surge forward, weaving in and out of the smallest gaps.

We found our way to our hotel [naturally on the second floor with a wonky lift], got directions to their nearby car park, left the car,  dived into to our room, flung ourselves in the shower, dressed and practically ran to the theatre.  There were, indeed, elegant Italians, enjoying a slow and cooling glass of wine in the interval, but I was a woman with a mission – and a voucher to be exchanged for tickets upon our early arrival.  A smartly dressed attendant informed me the box office was closed, so I couldn’t pick up our tickets.  Trying hard not to cry, I stuttered about a broken down car.  He smiled, told me to stay right there and spoke to his superior.  The voucher did not give any seat numbers, but they found us two excellent places in the stalls.  It was clear that they were all extremely proud of Massimo and would do anything to help those who wished to attend – Ticketmaster, take note!

So we managed to enjoy the second half, despite thirst & tiredness, and the theatre is, indeed, absolutely magnificent. 

The attendants in frock coats

We had a less than average supper in a tourist alley & fell into bed.

However, Antonio made it clear that A. the hire would be free and B. we didn’t have to be back till late afternoon.  So after breakfast, still removing small black flies from our ears,  we took a different, equally magnificent road back, arriving at the South coast in Agrigento, finally seeing the Temples close to which we had originally seen from the sea.

Heigh ho.  I went to see Antonio the next day, and he told me he had a problem.  We had returned the second car [delivered grubby, ½ a tank of fuel, passenger window didn’t work] without filling up the tank and the company wished to charge us €50 - €30 for the fuel and €20 for “service”…..  I spluttered “SERVICE???”.  He said “leave it with me”.  Mike and I agreed we would not see him out of pocket and would pay for the fuel, but were sincerely disinclined to fork out for the latter.    However, when we went  to tell him this, he said it was fine, there would be no further charges.  I don’t know if he absorbed it or told the car hire company where to go, but we are most  grateful.

Next year, Mike is getting a pair of socks or a chart of the Greek Islands…..

MALTA - a trip down memory lane in March

As Mike’s memorable time here in the Royal Navy was in the 1960’s, first in HMS Ashton, 108^th Mine Sweeping Squadron and later  in the  Med Fleet Clearance Diving Team  - during which time there had been much water-ski-ing, carousing  and general enjoyment, I was naturally a bit nervous about going back and spoiling all his recollections and also not too sure what I would make of Malta myself.

             Note for visitors from Sicily.  The bus from Ragusa stops a good distance from

            the ferry port, for some illogical reason – if you aren’t a good walker at the

            moment, get a cab from the bus stop!!  By the time we realised that  

            oh, about 1km along there” was a gross underestimate, it was too late.

I wasn’t prepared for Grand Harbour as we approached in the ferry after dark [I know, the name was a hint] – it really is magnificent.  The taxi ride to our hotel in Sliema was disorientating for Mike – familiarity followed by confusion as landmarks jostled with new roads & buildings.  We picked up our Fiat Uno [a bargain at £25 for 3 days!] at the Phoenecia Hotel – the opening of its swimming pool attended by Mike & reported as a “wild evening” -  in Valletta and made our way round the Bastions until we were close to Victoria Gate – and Mike’s  old office!  The buildings were unchanged.

 

It’s now a government department and the ladies were fascinated to learn that their visitor had been Flag Lieutenant to Rear Admiral Dudley Davenport whose office now houses the Minister of Finance. 

The Lascaris War Rooms close by, accessed by a tunnel which Mike used to walk down to work when Flag Lieutenant.  Here Eisenhower co-ordinated the Sicily landings with Admiral Cunningham & Generals Patten & Montgomery ~ the Generals  loathed each other! 

 Our guide was the son of one of those who excavated the rock to form the Rooms and he was a mine of historical information.  

Patten & Monty landed on two different beaches, near Gela and Syracuse respectively, the Brits making their way up the coast, Patten using the Roman Road straight across the island to Palermo, both forces then heading for Messina.  [If any real historians are reading this, please forgive!].  This formed a pincer movement on the Germans who were on Etna and became the blueprint for the Normandy landings.

The Rooms, hewn from solid rock

The picture on the right was

an interesting find, showing Italian Navy Human Torpedoes.  There was one particular attack on Malta which was unsuccessful.  In 1966 a sports diver reported he had seen a large torpedo shaped object in the entrance to Marxamasett - it transpired this was the nose of a "chariot" which contained the high explosive with which to attack  R N Vessels in harbour.   (They would detach this nose under the target ship and set a delayed action detonator before retreating on the "chariot" - brave men).  Mike was given the task of lifting and counter-mining it further off shore when, apparently the shock wave registered [faintly] in Sicily!  Not long after this exercise, Mike was in La Spezia with the Italian Navy Mine Counter Measures Group ~ it transpired that the Captain of this unit was the young wartime Lieutenant who had had to abandon the attack and surrender after swimming ashore onto St. Elmo Point.  He was exceptionally proud of his attempt and thrilled to learn the outcome.

The former RN diving centre in Manoel Island is abandoned – but still recognisable.

As expected, the bays where Mike and his colleagues had so much fun

The Dragonara Casino - those were the days!!

are now towered over by pretty ugly hotel & apartment developments, but we still had a couple of great days’ driving, going up to Mdina

and then over to Gozo on the ferry [taking the car at the last minute, for a princely €20 – very glad we did], where the citadel is just as impressive and not quite so touristy.

The Blue Grotto in Gozo - nowadays only accessible by tripper boat - there's one holding about 12 visitors under the arch, which gives you an idea of its size

Children enjoying the fountains which spout in time to classical music outside the palace
 [I think it was Tales of Hoffman when we were there]

Tax collectors - ever with us

Despite the many visitors, Valletta is still magnificent – history just pouring out of every corner [we spent a couple of hours in the extraordinary Armoury which was in the Palace]. The British influence is still strong and we were made most welcome everywhere.

Battery

 It’s a unique island, the British influence still firmly felt, certainly on this side of the Island and we were made most welcome.

Typical enclosed balconies

Garrie - now a tourist transport, formerly the regular "taxi"

 Wonderful honey coloured stonework at the Palace

 A restaurant  in one of those cellars, which we happened across - and stumbled out of, replete & content just in time to catch the ferry back!

Towards the bastions from the ferry (sadly through a salty window)

It was a tremendous few days for us both.

Winter in Sicily

We found a large and friendly, international liveaboard community in Marina di Ragusa –  many from Holland [gosh it was quiet when the Dutch girls left!!] & UK, several from USA, Scandinavia, Canada, Germany, Belgium, Australia,  Spain & France, and a distinguished sprinkling from Malta,  Switzerland, Turkey, New Zealand,  Lebanon, Argentina, Iceland – and Sicily, of course!

  

I've done the fans and half the sole boards!

The marina is well spread out, making a bike or scooter extremely useful, even to get to the heads & showers.  There was very little swell inside, even in a gale, and fouling was far, far less than reported in other sites along the coast.  There are a reasonable chandlery and other yacht services – all of which take their time – an exceptionally helpful travel agent – RAVI – owned & run by Antonio, a bar, two meeting rooms available for social activities or any job that needs space.  To top it all, the office ~ run by Enza and manned by the delightful and helpful Fabiana, Silvia & Kay.

A note of caution – really DO wait for the marinieros to guide you in, especially if you draw more than 2m. – there is a shifting shoal patch and the entrance can get shallow. All essentials can be got in the village  [there’s a great little ironmonger where you’re frequently given a bag of organic tomatoes when you go to buy a battery or a pot of glue] a Eurospar supermarket, bakeries, gelaterias and quite pricey restaurants which stay open all year.  Also  an excellent pizzeria near the marina entrance which delivers during the winter months.  We had no personal experience of the boatyard, which is run by a different company, but it’s expensive, you can’t live on board when on the hard and there were a couple of boats damaged there during our stay  – Licata sounds a better bet if you want to be out of the water. 

Add caption

 But management is changing, apparently.  Very easy to reach Ragusa, Comiso Airport & Catania by bus – indeed this year, the marina were giving one complimentary return trip to Comiso Airport for each crew.

Marina di Ragusa, main square

If you were inclined and didn’t have too long a list of jobs, there were frequent social events ranging from to yoga classes, splicing lessons, karaoke nights and various nationalities hosting evenings of their own food & music.  Mike gave a talk on the salvage from HMS EDINBURGH one evening – I’m proud to say, there was standing room only in the meeting room, which means over 50 people.  Others shared useful knowledge about sailing in other  countries in the Med.

I attended Italian conversation lessons with Silvia, but fear I didn’t make much progress apart from in Italian gastronomy.  Attempts to steer the chat towards “please lay some acetone aside for me next week” were short lived, and we were back discussing some unknown [to me] veg in the market and how to cook it, or the merits of the wood-fired bakery in Via Dandolo.

The bill here was ALWAYS €5!

We consumed vast quantities of Vitamin C once the new orange crop started – delicious!

We were pretty busy.  Mike spent many uncomfortable & frustrating hours attending to the caulking in the cockpit & round our deck hatches [with great success – no more leaks] and there was all the usual servicing and checking – not to mention cleaning, polishing and endlessly removing coatings of the Sahara from any exposed surface.   I still prefer it to the green lichen growth of Argyll!!  

We commissioned a new helmsman's seat, which has certainly been a success on passage - but I need to increase the padding on the cushions I made, according to my seat bones and those of one of our guests!

The Sailing Nomads [directed by Marcel – looking like a handsome, scheming Bond villain - from his keyboard] produced two or three entertaining evenings – by the third, in a packed local restaurant, they were jolly good – sailors joined by the marina office staff & some bemused locals watching all the old rockers boogeying away to 60’s & 70’s classics.  As Mike and I walked back to the boat, we were passed by two of the teenage boys from yachts, scooting along.  One said to the other “Well, I don’t REALLY mind seeing old people dancing….”.  They were out of range before we heard anything to hurt our feelings!

Tommy - a close neighbour, 

There’s a real feeling of respect for others doing roughly the same thing, but in a huge variety of boats and ways – you don’t seem to get any of that one-upmanship sometimes experienced in home sailing communities – perhaps because we do all rely on each other away from our home ports, no matter what the budget or size of the vessel.  Whenever you had a query, needed help or advice, a tool or information, someone would come forward with it. 

Jean Paul, our closest neighbour, who literally got me out of a jam when Mike was up the mast one day!
Good to have a muscular mountaineer as a friend.

 I did a couple of stitching jobs for friends, Danielle from Nyctea managed to get our SSB radio  talking to my computer [which means useful information and the ability to use email far out to sea] by sheer dogged determination long after my brain had turned to porridge, Rick & Barbara from Far Out lent me “Big Red” – a winch attachment which basically electrifies it and enabled me to whizz Mike up & down the mast & shrouds with far less effort, Dave lent us a diesel pump so we could empty our tanks into drums, install taps at the bottom of them and measure it slowly on its return so we now know what the inches on the Tank Tender relate to [the fuel tanks are hull shaped, so this had been a mystery], Steve lent Mike his Sea Searcher magnet [twice…. the second time for his favourite screwdriver] Hospitality & many kindnesses from other people, including food parcels waiting for us when we’d been away .  It was fun to see friends we’d made in Lisbon – Plane Song, Lady Kathleen and Bella Luna - and we made a good variety of new ones and look forward to seeing you in other countries. 

We went back to UK 3 times to see family & for me to get a small knee op.  Mike went to Hong Kong to see son Jamie and we had a fascinating few days in Malta.

John & Jos O’Driscoll came over from UK & we had a good road trip to Etna – we were lucky with the lack of cloud – including a day on the train which goes round her base.  She had had quite a busy winter – flames spouting out when we were flying in from UK  [happily the ash blew away to the North!] – but is now dozing smokily again.

Etna from  our Agriturismo in

the orange groves to the South

Etna from Taormina

I planned a trip to Palermo’s Teatro Massimo as Mike’s belated 70^th present which is going to have its own post  - “The Best Laid Plans”….. as will our visit to Malta.

Lungo di Mare, Marina di Ragusa

So my trusty bike is folded away - many, many kilos of groceries later.......

Just about ready to go!

Perhaps next year’s winter jobs list won’t be so long, but Mike has already started writing it…..