Mt Etna side vent

Theo, George, Adrian and I headed south from Trogir (next to Split) to Stari Grad on Hvar. We had a swim near the mouth of the estuary before going in to anchor. Fandango was here on the last leg and again we enjoyed this pretty harbour village and surprisingly good bread.

Our last port of call in Croatia was Vela Luka on Korcula. All the bureaucracy was in place to process our departure, except the policeman who was away that day and might be back tomorrow. The port authority lass was so apologetic and even shook my hand.

The charter business must be having a hard time because there was only one other yacht at anchor in what was last time a tightly packed harbour anchorage. This private Italian registered boat tried to anchor right on top of us, even with so many spaces available. Do yachts have pheromones? We're beginning to think so.

We enjoyed our final meal in Croatia and spent all but our last few pieces of shrapnel at the supermarket because Kuna would be hard to change outside Croatia. On the way back to the boat we gave the shrapnel to some kids who, like most Croatians, spoke good English.

No time to hang around waiting for the police, so we sailed at dawn the following morning as scheduled. After eleven hours with genoa and main up to assist the motor, we made Vieste on the Italian mainland. We decided to use the marina because of exposure at anchor. It was expensive, in cash as usual in Italy and the showers weren't working.

The old town was a bit of a come down from what we were used to in Croatia and the service was so bad in the first restaurant we tried that we walked out. On our way back to Fandango, we were amazed to find a Vietnamese pot-bellied pig lying in front of the marina gate. I gave her a good rub and a scratch and she made little sniffling noises in appreciation. Her minder appeared and after a few snorts they went back to her pen.

Another early start to cross the Gulf of Manfredonia and head down to Monopoli. There was just enough wind angle to get the genoa working with the motor but after a couple of hours it was, you guessed it, on the nose. We enjoyed Monopoli's interesting old buildings.

Brindisi was a long run and we got into the big harbour just as a storm was brewing. We anchored close to a big monument which turned out to be a tribute to Mussolini. Near us was a large Italian warship but no activity. A few old buildings ashore but nothing special.

The wind was up at dawn when we left. We cruised past Otranto but kept going to Santa Maria di Leuca on the very tip of Italy's heel. Storm clouds, gusty winds and rain met us before we rounded the cape but fizzled out as we turned. We had a mediocre meal and there was not much to look at.

Next stop was Cretone. Nothing much here either. Early the next day we moved on to Roccella Ionica. Fandango pulled in here last year. The place was falling apart and now even the washing machine has gone from the shower block. You need to carry your own toilet paper and soap with you for some toilets in marinas and restaurants. But here at least the beer was cold and pizza sold by the metre.

The following day it was a 0500 hour start for Catania in Sicily. The horizon was starting to lighten as we negotiated our way past the badly silted approach to the harbour and edged out to sea. There were storms brewing behind us but our forecast was good and it turned out to be a lovely day for the 80 nm trip. We saw dolphins and actually got the main up again and sailed with the motor off!

Catania had a big harbour with two fuel wharfs that were inaccessible. Our marina, the best there, had one portaloo for all the boats, as well as low pressure hose water and electricity on the pontoons. Behind this disappointing marine door mat and through the rubbish strewn streets, we found some intricately decorated old buildings. The city was dirty with the excuse that Mt Etna might wipe it out again at any moment. This tends to make you eat your pasta looking frequently over your shoulder, as you work the al dente down the hatch.

I find the Italian obsession with beauty and style irreconcilable with the rubbish found everywhere and the dirty, ugly modern buildings. The young so slim and good looking but a generation later so fat and unappealing.

Attila and Urs joined us making six and the next day with two hire cars we went to check out Mt Etna. It was big, smoking and had a habit of burying things nearby every few years. The steaming crater around which we walked wasn't there two years ago. Many people were coughing from the dust and sulphur, which were good excuses for a birra further down the mountain. Then we saw Taormina and the roman theatre further up the east coast.

On day two, we drove to picturesque Cefalu and had a chance to go inside the Norman cathedral. Later, Monreal was enjoyable with another Norman cathedral in excellent condition and finally on to Trapani. Nothing here to interest us but George was delighted when he knew he wouldn't miss his flight. We stayed the night near Trapani and saw Roman ruins in various spots on the two day drive back through the bucolic countryside to Fandango at Catania. The most impressive was the Roman Villa Imperiale del Casale with, I am told, the best roman mosaics in the world. It certainly had me floored.

It was our final night in Catania with Theo leaving the next morning. He was a bit off colour in the afternoon and may have been suffering from gelatinitis. Tomorrow Attila, Urs, Adrian and I sail for Porto Palo and then to Malta.