Tropea, Manchester, Pompeii and "We need an Umbrella" Umbria

After Sicily we needed a place to break up the journey north. Tropea, the home of tartufu, and a gorgeous beach fit the bill perfectly. The beach was unfortunately about 500 steps down from the town, and a bit of a challenge for Kel and her recently ruptured achilles. Nonetheless multiple beach days were enjoyed, various flavours of tartufu were consumed, and the adults enjoyed a relatively relaxing few days. Bas even braved a foot fish spa.

We said our goodbyes to the beach at Tropea and headed to Naples to catch a Ryanair flight to Manchester so Bas could see his favourite soccer team, Man City. Kel had secured almost front row seats and the little guy was extremely excited. The adults managed to find a few good pies, a Sunday roast and a couple of English ales, and the weather gods came to the party for the big game (a recurring theme later in the trip). What initially looked like thunderstorms, turned into harmless clouds, and a fantastic game was played including 3 Man city goals right in front of their seats. The girls and I eventually found a pub showing the game, but with standing room only Addy soon fell asleep in my arms and we headed home. Day 2 included a visit to the Beatles museum, and then we were back to Naples to explore Pompeii.

After a morning walking around Pompeii (with me trying to remember if I had been before), we were off to Tuscany. Or close anyway. This time around Kel decided to stay in Umbria, on Largo Trasimeno. Looking back on this blog it appears we visited the lake last time, but neither of us had any recollection. This time however I suspect we will remember it. We had a cosy holiday house right on the lake (Langs lake house), with stunning sunset views across the water, and just the right amount of grass for kid amusement. Much soccer was played, marshmallows were toasted, and hours were spent playing on the hammock. Unfortunately the weather failed us for the first time this trip with wind and rain keeping us largely off the lake itself (Kel did take Em and Bas out for a quick kayak). I managed a visit to Perugia and 2 wine shops, one of which spontaneously become lunch when the sales guy started pooping corks all over the place. After trying 6 bottles, eating quite a lot of cheese, salumi and bread, I headed back home with a few excellent bottles for the rest of the trip. This shop had been recommended by the owners of our house, and as the next day was all wind and rain we decided to visit their winery for lunch. A delicious lunch and wine tasting ensued, with possibly the best food of the trip so far. The owners were not around unfortunately, being in Portugal currently. We packed up and were about to head off the next day when David the owner arrived, fresh from the airport. Turns out he was the brother of one of our friends from Medical school! Small world indeed!! Armed with a extra bottle of their wine and promises to look out for it in Australia we headed north toward Parma.

Stayed: Langs lake house

Winery: Vineria del carmine

Savouring Sicilia

After the peace and quiet of Agriturismo Ferrai we headed to the southern stronghold of Sicily. Ostensibly to visit family, but also to reconnect with one of our favourite regions from the previous trip, and show the kids where a quarter of their family comes from. Unsurprisingly it did not disappoint.

After negotiating the ferry in the car we headed for Taormina. Taormina is a tourist town. Perched on top of a hill overlooking a turquoise ocean it’s made for piazza’s with a view. We stayed right in the middle of town in a top floor apartment with an upstairs rooftop terrace (so far the kids favourite). Views were spectacular and much fun was had at the local park. It felt a little like a mini Rome with hordes of tourists descending on the old town via buses during the afternoons. Large tour groups followed guides holding up sticks with small flags while listening on James Bond style ear pieces. A particularly decent spritz was had at Franco Wine bar ("Vulcano Spritz: Campari, amaro all'arancia, prosecco, soda).

We braved a wine bar (Al Grapplolo d'Uva) and managed two glasses! 

A day trip up Mt Etna was also a highlight, with Kel testing the recently ruptured achilles against some serious snow. Luckily all went well and the kids had a ball bum sliding down the snowy slopes. Some seriously good arancini resulted from a random lunch stop in the afternoon.

Next up was Catania. Now this is more of a working city. There’s still a few tourists around the main squares / churches etc, but it’s a large industrial city with real people doing real jobs. We stayed for just two nights, to catch up with Kelly’s family. Connie, now the major link between the Australian and Sicilian branches coordinated the stay, just as she had done some 15 years earlier, when we last visited. Lunch was with extended family, then we drove out to Connie’s place to have dinner with her. A beautiful garden and house, and a great night catching up on 15 years of life. The take-away pizza was the best of the trip so far. It was really beautiful to hear of her life and her sons, and see that most of life 's challenges are universal.

Next it was off to Ortigia, the old town of Syracuse. A seriously picturesque walled city on an island with the sprawling city of Syracuse extending inland on the mainland. We stayed in a fantastic old house, which was originally part of a church. It was bit like living in a cellar, being surrounded by thick stone on all sides. Highlights included a boat trip around the island and out to some caves, a great sandwich place (Caseifico Borderi), lunch at a Putia delle cose Buone and more 8 euro negronis. Photo from the Cave "ear of Dionysius".

Then it was time to leave Sicily. Kel was sad, having a real feeling of connection with the food, crazy driving, and late starts. But the blow was softened by the next destination: Tropea, which had a beach with real sand!

Decompressing in Dipignano

After the popularity of Rome it was time for something a little quieter. Kel had booked Agriturismo Ferrari, or so she hoped. Communication had been sketchy, thus we were relieved when we appeared to be expected. The drive was "interesting" involving quite a few switchbacks on roads wide enough for one car at best. Unfortunately the venue was hosting a party on our arrival day (and the next day) thus we had to eat out in the small nearby village of Dipignano. This led to the best meal of the trip so far, when on night two the small restaurant we found had no menu, no english speakers, some delicious pasta, and a bottle of Amaro to finish. No bill was produced but somehow 80 Euro's was decided on. Some Class A ordering from Kel in Italian resulted in mostly what we expected.

The days were spent playing soccer on the the large grassy slope near the house, in the pool, or reading. No wifi, and only Italian TV reduced the screen time. Goats, and cows caused the odd interruption to play on the soccer pitch, and exact final scores are still debated.

Reconnecting with Rome

After surprisingly uneventful flights we arrived in a distinctly rainy Rome. Our base would be a stylish 2nd story apartment in Trastevere, and after a challenging jog around the narrow streets dodging tourists, I can see the attraction of the neighbourhood. Narrow streets lined with tables, filled with locals and tourists drinking coffee, Campari and the ubiquitous Aperol. The weather imprved after day one and was filled with sunshine for the remainder of the stay.

There is something special about Rome. A feeling that good times are almost guaranteed. People seem less worried about morning routines, protein intake, and the future, and more interested in enjoying today. Or maybe that's just how you feel when you visit. Either way there is something magnetic about this city, something that makes it attractive despite the hordes of people. It's unique mix of modern and ancient, quiet obsession with coffee and good food, and intriguing history continue to make it a city worth visiting. Even with 3 kids!

Highlights were meals at the local "magnifico" store, coffee (of course), and the usual sights. Bas's favourite by far was the tour of the colosseum, with the Forum and the Villa Borghese also popular. Addy bought new shoes and was very happy. Museo delle Illusioni was a big hit.

Interesting observations: 

 - Trastevere was covered in graffiti, mostly tags, not interesting street art

 - No one seems to own a mower, or a whippersnipper. Street verges are seriously overgrown.

 - A negroni out is 8 Euro. An expresso is 1.5 Euro. 

 - Driving - I didn't, thank god.

And we're back! Europe 2.0

Some 15 years after the last post I am resurrecting this blog for another trip to Europe. This one will be a little different though as life has changed since our last sojourn around the Med. This time we have 3 kids in tow, a war raging in the Middle East, and infinitely more expensive wine and accommodation tastes. Will the budget stretch the 3 months? Will we be eating home cooked pasta or dining out with Grand Cru burgundy in the last few weeks of the trip? Only time will tell.....

This is going to be more diary than blog, as I know basically no one reads it (except Mum!). This will be more "dispatches from the trenches" as I no longer have the luxury of long train rides with which to compose witty, succinct pieces. As we are driving (and I am doing the lion share), there is very little down time for writing. I apologize in advance.

So first day of term two we fly out of surprisingly sunny Melbourne, bound for Rome, via Hong Kong. Long stopovers, tired kids (and adults) and lots of airplane food. Kel has been madly in rehab for a ruptured achilles, and it will interesting to see how it holds up to airport transits and walking around Rome. Europe 2.0 here we come

Wonderful (or Was it) Western Desert

Cairo marked the end of the road for a substantial part of our group. Twelve of the original party were saying goodbye here and we were sad to lose a few like minded souls. We had always had someone to chat to, play cards with, or have a beer or two with. The first part of the tour had gone well but we were rather apprehensive about the next bit and the new members of our group. A sighting of 4 rather unenthusiastic souls in the lobby did nothing to improve our outlook. After the night of Karoke we boarded the truck and to our delight the new 5 were not those we’d spotted the night before. They were, while quiet initially, a similarly fantastic bunch to the lot we had left behind. And just as well, we had 3 days with them and nothing else but desert. It’s ironic that we were drawn to see a place where there’s nothing much to see. So many people head out to see the western desert, but for the most part there’s absolutely nothing to see. Perhaps it’s the lack of landscape that becomes the attraction, and the vastness of that nothingness. Unfortunately this seemed lost on at least two of my companions (Adam and Kelly) who were heard saying multiple times, “ is this it?” (Photo - The Desert and I, Credit - Adam.)


The days were all rather similar and as such the desert experience has merged into one incredibly long drive. Day 1, 12 hours through the white desert to our campsite amongst strange whitish limestone formations some of which Kel described as mushrooms. This was the 1st true camping of the trip and apart from Pasq who had a wolf circling him most of the night, we all had a great time sleeping out under the stars. Day 2 - A million hours drive through the black desert, which was undiscernible from the white desert, to a tiny desert oasis (read really dusty, dirt town) of unmemorable name. Stopped to look at an art gallery/house on the way where Adam was disappointed with the watercolour prices. Incredibly we found some wifi from the roof where we sleep that night and caught up on a few emails. Day 3 - a least a million hours drive to a Nubian village, just across the Nile from Aswan. Yes we had made it back to the Nile and quite a few members of the group were stoked to be back near civilisation, and flushing loos.

Mystical Mt Sinai, the Suez, 1 night in Cairo, karaoke, and a KFC run by deaf people.

Leaving the relaxing Dahab we headed inland to Mt Sinai. At the base of the biblical mountain sits St Katherine’s Monastery (which houses the famous Burning bush, or a descendant of). The itinerary included a walk to the top in order to watch sunrise. For some reason most people think that climbing a small rocky mountain is not painful enough, and think that climbing it in the middle of the night, in order to watch sunrise is a much better idea. Having climbed Sinai last time I was here (that time for sunset, a much more pleasant undertaking) there was no way I was missing a night of sleep to watch the sun complete its daily birth from the eastern horizon. Perhaps unfortunately my lack of enthusiasm rubbed off on the others, or maybe they truly saw the pointlessness of climbing a largely insignificant (to us unreligious types anyway) rocky peak in the middle of the night. Either way we all opted for a nearby guesthouse and a good nights sleep. After the escapes of my birthday celebrations the night before, everyone was asleep as soon as their heads hit the rather hard pillows.(Photo above: Breakfast with the truck in front of Mt Sinai)

We awoke refreshed, but down a few pints of blood courtesy of the local mosquitoes. A long day driving through the Sinai peninsular got us to the Suez canal and the ever amusing sight of ships moving through the desert. As you can’t get very close to the actual canal due to security reasons, it looks like the massive cargo ships are simply moving through the desert. After negotiating the Cairo traffic with liberal use of the horn (a thoroughly unenjoyable experience for our driver Yo), we arrived and, of course, headed straight to that beacon of culinary excellence, KFC. But it was not only the delicious chicken that drew us in, the opportunity to give something back to the Egyptian community (the restaurant is entirely run by deaf individuals) also attracted us. Perhaps. Or maybe it was just the chicken. Either way, we sought the safety of the deep fryer, and while our hearts may have suffered, our bowels were thankful. After a little Karaoke, we were off to bed, in preparation for our trip into the western desert the next day. (Photos: Above Adam gets in some liquid refreshment on the way to Cairo. Below, filming the crazy Cairo traffic)

Delightful Dehab

Situated in a picturesque bay, full of coral, Dahab is a red sea diving paradise. We had plenty of time here and there was only a few things on the itinerary: dive, eat, drink and chill out. After a few more dives in the red sea (including the famous Blue hole) we really were convinced that this was one of the most spectacular places to dive in the world. I believe that together with Sipdan island in Borneo and the far reaches of the upper great barrier reef off far north Queensland it is the best in the world. The abundance of fish and brightly coloured coral make it hard to know where to look during the 50 minutes you get moonlighting in their underwater world. (Photo: Author, Pasq and our tour leader Neil celebrating)

The bay, while flush with fish and coral, is also completely flanked by waterfront restaurants. And unlike a lot of the rest of Egypt, the food is quite good. Breakfast in particular was a surprise as we got a merciful rest form the ever present sweet, stale bread, eggs and jam. With eating and diving taken care of, the only thing left was to celebrate and my (belated) birthday provided the (seldom needed) excuse. Churchill’s Bar provided an ideal location, especially from my friends point of view, as shouting me a drink would never cost them more than three Australian dollars. A thoroughly enjoyable night was had by all, perhaps apart from Dan, an young, rowdy, Aussie travel agent with dreds who fell over at the bottom of the stairs and rolled his ankle so severely he couldn’t walk. Despite the late hour and a blood alcohol level which in any other country would preclude any kind of Doctoring, we strapped up the ankle and sent him off to bed. Adam was missing, and it later became clear he had joined an unknown Russian sailor and driven around in a taxi until it was abundantly clear nothing else was open. A quick visit to the local Doc the next morning and Dan returned with the words, “I’ve broken some bone in my foot”. Despite being unable to spot the break from his xrays we all concluded a bit of plaster wouldn’t hurt and so he continued the trip on crutches.

Wonderous Wadi Rum and Aqaba, Jordan

Back on our trusty truck again, we headed for Wadi Rum, the obligatory Jordanian desert stop. Boarding old landdrovers we headed off into the desert with our (decided young looking) local drivers. Another distinctive environment, the rock formations and sand dunes kept Lawrence (of Arabian fame) captivated here for years. After some sand boarding, some dune climbing and a fair bit of driving we were off to Aqaba, our departure point for Egypt. Being on the red sea, we were able to squeeze in a quick dive (the Cedar Pride wreck) between sitting by the pool and sipping cheaper Egyptian beer. Easily in the top five dive sites in the world, the red sea did not disappoint, especially when I found a 500 Saudi note, worth around $150AUS, ten meters down next to a piece of coral!

In theory, that night we were to board an overnight ferry that would carry us (and our truck) over the seas to Egypt. Egyptian transport and customs being what they are, a 40 km journey became a 11 hour epic as we waited for Egyptian customs to clear the truck for at least 5 hours. During the wait we treated the locals to a game of backyard cricket, utilising the parking lot as the pitch. Finally the man with the correct stamp had been located, showered, and driven leisurely to work, where he could use his stamp on the trucks paperwork. A new set of numberplates for use in Egypt had arrived and we had completed our medical by walking through a room occupied by one guard and an Egyptian official. Egyptian customs satisfied (and educated on the finer points of cricket), we headed for Dahab, our splendidly relaxing location for the next 3 days. (Photos - Wadi rum)

Well Kept with Kumuka (Amman Jordan)

The long road home started in Amman, Jordon when we joined a Kumuka tour of Jordon and Egypt. We flew from Istanbul into Amman and met up with Adam and Pasquale, who would join us on the tour. Most of the group we joined had already been together through Syria thus knew each other quite well. Two other Aussie guys joined the group with us in Amman taking the total to nineteen. We loaded up our own custom built truck the next morning and headed off for the dead sea. Yo, our Afrikaans driver and Neil, our Irish/English tour guide completed the group. The truck makes life a lot easier in countries with poor public transport as the group is completely independent. Having our own transport and our own accommodation (in the form of tents) meant we could go and stay virtually anywhere. It also meant you could stow your big bag underneath and stop lugging 17kg everywhere! (Photo below - floating the dead sea)


First stop was the dead sea with is incredibly salty water. Thirty percent salt, the water here is so dense it is impossible to sink. You can stand upright in water 4 meters deep and you’ll float with you head and shoulders out of the water. We spent a couple of hours enjoying this phenomena which included some rather comical impersonations of bicycle riding and running on water. Next is was off to Wadi Moses, a small town near the ancient city of Petra.

Photo right - The Siq, Petra.

Having featured in Indiana Jones and the last crusade as the resting place of the holy grail, Petra was the main reason I was keen to visit Jordon. That famous facade of the treasury (which is not in fact a treasury but a tomb) has featured on my list of things to see (the so called ‘bucket list’) for a few years now. And contrary to some other ruined cities (namely Machu Picchu) it surpassed expectations. Sometimes it seems the more you know about something and the more photos you’ve seen of it, the less impressive it seems when you finally glimpse it in the flesh. Machu Picchu looked just like the photos, nothing more, nothing less. But Petra, being slightly less popular is much less extensively photographed, leaving a few surprises for those who make the trip. The monastery, for example, up around 700 steps at the other end of the site to the treasury, while a big effort is another huge, exquisitely façade caved directly into the rock. After some amusing photos utilising odd angles to make it appear Adam had fallen off a huge cliff, we headed back to the hotel for a few well earned, but over priced Jordanian beers.



Photo - The Treasury


















The monastery

Istanbul (or was it Constantinople)

Having read Orhan Pamuk’s “I am red” while travelling around Turkey I had an idea what 15th century Istanbul would look like. Pleasingly most of the sites described in the book are still there and, for a fee, open to the public. Walking around the old town felt like I had hoped into the pages of the book. Women still wove carpets behind half closed doors, men still sat on the street or in coffee hoses smoking shisha. The rest of Istanbul, though, has moved on and the city is now an eclectic mix of old and new, secular and religious.

A bit of haggling, a few of the big sights and two good nights on our hostel’s terrace and that was our time up in Turkey. We had so far been unable to find anywhere to serve us some Turkish bread and dips but luckily on our first night, found a great little place that did both. Turkish food in Turkey is definitely not what it is at home. For instance a kebab is meat on a plate, not in bread as in the rest of the world. For the supposed home of the kebab, theirs are not really up to the standard available pretty much anywhere else. Good local food though, was fantastic, just not what we expected.
Photos
1: A bus passes in front of the famous Blue mosque at night.
2: Shopping anyone? The Istanbul markets
3. A million scarves to choose from
4. Kel picks up some cheap bread

Galliant (or Galling) Gallipoli

An unquestionable essential for any Aussie in Turkey, Gallipoli was nonetheless a highlight. We found a fantastic hostel appropriately named Crowded House, run by the super friendly Pauly. The hostel played only Aussie and Kiwi music, and its ground floor bar was ably run by Pauly each night. The hostel tour of Gallipoli was amazing; mainly because it was guided by a university professor who had led people like Bob Hawk around the various sites. Much has been written about the experiences of Aussies visiting Gallipoli and suffice to say its hard to walk amongst the gullies, beaches and headstones without being moved. Our guide gave us such a realistic picture of the battlefield you could almost see the boats coming ashore at Anzac cove, or the boys going out of the trenches, bayonets fixed, at The Nek. For Australia it will always be the first major conflict we were involved in as a nation, a conflict that brought us together. But for the Turks it is just one in a long string of wars fought either under the guise of the Ottoman empire, or independent Turkey. Until recently Turkish interest in Gallipoli wasn’t that high, there weren’t many cemeteries or memorials and the burial places of thousands of soldiers were still unknown. But slowly, after watching thousands of Aussies wander the battlefields and cemeteries, the Turks have erected their own monuments and cemeteries, often close to Australian ones, but always in a spirit of peace. It wasn’t always like this. The first Turkish memorial was erected in 1916 on Anzac Cove and visiting Aussies found it so unacceptable they photographed it, blew it to pieces with TNT and then sold the pieces in Sydney as souvenirs. Now, the whole battlefield is a peace park, and ANZAC Cove has been officially recognised by that name by the Turkish government. (Photo - Lone Pine cemetery)

After the tour of Gallipoli we finished off our stay in Eceabat with another great night with Pauly and his all Australian (and NZ) music. Next we were bound for Istanbul, our last stop before leaving the trials and tribulations of independent travel behind. (Photo - Near ANZAC cove)

Pretty Pamukkale

Quite a way off the beaten track that runs from Olympos along the coast of Turkey to Istanbul is the sparkling white pools of Pamukkale. Often featured in tourist brochures on Turkey, the pools are pretty amazing. Sparkling blue water runs over a series of perfectly white rock pools, made by the deposition of calcium from the calcium rich water. The ancients obviously appreciated the spot, the Greek and Roman ruins of Hierapolis sit just behind the pools. The ruins, excavated by the Italians, are splendidly signed and can be easily explored without a guide or guidebook. Right in the middle of the ruins is a new hotel, whose pool is fed from a nearby hot spring. The pool is also full of Roman columns and other ruins. The end result, if pricey, is quite amazing. Swim alongside fallen Roman columns and the ruins of streets etc. in 35 degree, “healing” water. Kel, having had her fix of ruins for the trip, spent the afternoon by the pool while I sped around the ruins. Although most people believe Ephesus to be a superior Roman site I found Heliopolis much nicer and easier to explore. Sunset over the pools was stunning, with the still water taking on all the colours of the setting sun.

Obliging Olympos

Arriving in the seaside village of Olympos after what would be our last overnight bus we checked into Bayrams hostel and got ourselves a tree house. The town is on the backpacker route for 3 reasons, funky tree houses, a great beach and an amazing natural phenomena where fire burns continuously from holes in a nearby mountain. Despite having a few days in Goreme to rest, the overnight bus completely wrecked us and a few days in hammocks and a treehouse was required. Turkey was fast moving out of tourist season and the town was almost deserted. Compared to a month earlier when Pasq was here (and five thousand or so others) the two hundred odd people in town now made for a quiet few days. The plan was to catch a boat cruise from here around the coast for a few days but due to the lack of tourists there weren’t any running to our schedule. Not that a few more days relaxing in this incredibly chill out place would do any harm.

Kel’s birthday fell on our first night here though, so celebrations were in order. We managed to find two young Brits willing to stay up and party with us, so the little group of four ate, drank and were merry late into the night. Several shopping expeditions had failed to find anything worth buying Kel for her birthday so she got a limerick and a poem, both of incredible wit and intellect. Unfortunately she didn’t see it that way. Probably the inclusion of one of Kel’s childhood nicknames “smelly booger” didn’t help the cause. Even the offer to buy her a washing machine when we got back home failed to improved the situation. Sometimes you just can’t win!

To have a break from lying on the beach, or lying in a hammock we walked the couple of kms to the fires of Olympos. Apparently burning for as long as anyone can remember these small fires appear out of the rocks on the slopes of a nearby mountain. Methane from well below the crust seeps up to the surface and escapes through small holes in the rocks. It then ignites spontaneously according to the locals selling tickets at the bottom of the mountain. Spontaneous or otherwise, it makes for an amazing site at night. A Turkish family obliged with a lift back into town and after a good nights sleep we were on another bus (but this time during the day) and bound for the brilliant white pools of Pamukkale.

Turkey: Gorgeous Goreme

After the rather taxing week at Oktoberfest we parted company with the rest of the group to spend 2 weeks in Turkey. We had a flight booked to Jordan in 2 weeks and would meet back up with Adam and Pasq there. So to increase the fatigue we flew into central Turkey, arriving at 3AM, then caught a series of buses over the following 7 hours to arrive in Goreme, completely exhausted. A truly individual area, Goreme is famous for the millions of dwellings carved out of the rock over the last two thousand years. Christians seeking protection from various raiders build their homes and churches into rock faces or underground. In fact huge underground cities capable of housing 10,000 were built and are still being excavated. After a few days exploring these fascinating villages and recovering from the possible swine-flu outbreak we headed off on another overnight bus. The food in Goreme had been another highlight, tasty lentil soup and pide bread going for a couple of dollars.