Pylos – Syracuse – Valletta
The only
problem with scarce internet access is that it makes the writing of the blog
difficult, and thus it makes me lazy.
Here it is Friday, and already our last two sites are fading into
history, so before it becomes a complete blur, I’m keying away like mad.
Our ship has
become a familiar home where all nooks and crannies are known, and we can
identify exactly where to place ourselves to get just the right view, just the
right amount of privacy, or just the perfect place to read. While it isn’t a large ship, and it is quite
full on this first leg of the trip, there is always the right place to sit with
a Kindle, a laptop or a puzzle. It is astounding
how many people have some form of e-book at this point. There are almost no
physical books to be seen as we settle into the inside bar areas to read, and
while the ship’s internet is not perfect, it is one hell of a lot better than
the last time we were on a Star Clipper vessel – almost a requirement now that many
people have come on board with their laptops, notebooks, iPads, etc.
Our first
real port of call, having skipped Monemvasia, was Pylos. It is a typical, sleepy harbor town, and so we used the day to
walk about, admire a beautifully appointed catamaran at the quay, run some shopping
errands, and have a last Greek meal by the water: ‘marithes’ – small fried fish which one eats
like French fries - tails, heads, and
all; Greek salad; Mythos beer; and a
frappé.
What is astounding to us is that absolutely every little harbor and restaurant
has a free WiFi hotspot so that when we wanted to ‘locate’ ourselves on
Facebook, there were a plethora of opportunities. Almost all cafes and restaurants offer you
access, sometimes with the need of a crude password, but easily given by the
waiter at hand. We are behaving like
most people who have some form of smartphone: we sit at a table awaiting
whatever we asked for, and quickly check email, Facebook, and the news. We’re
not conversing with each other, we’re staying ‘connected’. So it is a joy to
think that on the ship we are semi-detached from this on-line real world. And as to the election process in the USA,
what election process? We hardly know it is going on. We’re not being bombarded
night and day with nasty ads, pleas for money or angry diatribes by either side
in this battle. We have voted, and now
we simply await the final result. It looks like the popular vote may be close
(or at least that’s what we see in brief news snippets), but the electoral
college seems to favor Obama – for now. Dear God we hope so. With two Supreme Court
justice spaces opening up in the next four years, we can’t afford to go back to
the stone ages where ‘binders full of women’ might have opportunities, if they
can get home in time to cook dinner for their husbands.
But, back to
our cruise. We pulled away from Pylos as the late fall sun put a wonderful
golden hue to the buildings …with a few locals watching in rapt attention. The pleasure of our sailing boat is that it
can pull into many small harbors where big cruise ships don’t fit. And we don’t
make quite as large a blot on the landscape, lying low to the water-line, and
‘pointy’ thin at both ends. And, when our sails get hoisted, who can’t be
impressed. It brings back memories of sailing days of yore (even if ‘yore’ was
a good many years before any of us were born).
Our routine
on board is that once the harbor has receded into history, the pilot has been
disgorged and the sails are set, we head to our cabins to freshen up for
cocktails and then dinner. We four have
identified ‘our’ place at the out-door Tropical bar, and ‘our’ place at the
indoor bar, and we know that that’s where we belong up until 8:00 when we
slowly head for dinner in the dining room.
Our barmen on board: Igor (from Russia), David (from Bali) and Alain
(from the Philippines) know us at this point and are good natured as we tease
them about one thing or another. As Di reminds us, at least we know their names
and their nationality, and can, in her case, say please and thank you in their
language. They will be our best friends
before this cruise is over.
The dining
room has no fixed seating so when we arrive we usually ask to sit with others
just to spice up the conversations. And
for the most part it is an interesting group to chat with. The first discussions focus on bragging
rights as to how many cruises one has been on, when and where; then comes the
series of ‘tier one’ conversations related to where one lives, what one did for
a living, and why one is on this particular cruise. This first leg has many Brits on board – a
hard-core drinking crowd of young laddys whose accents identify them as
northern English, who have yet to be seen sober; then there are the prize
winners from a Tyre company in the UK; for them it is a short five day event
since they’ll be getting off in Malta.
Our next
port of call is Syracuse on the island of Sicily. Based on all that we read, Syracuse was a
happenin’ place in 500 BC. The Corinthians came here and developed a large city
state; the Romans came after that and subsequently other nationalities
including Arabs and Normans. Once our ship was tied off nicely at the dock, we
hopped on our tour bus for a ‘Classical Tour’ of the ruins of Syracuse with our
guide Maria. She was lively, enthusiastic and sounded an awful lot like a
female Father Guido Sarducci. We went to the Archaeological Park where we
examined a Greek theater made of limestone; the quarry used to build the
theater; the famed ‘Ear of Dionysius’ a cavern with eerie acoustics where
someone broke into an Italian aria, and where in ancient times slaves were
imprisoned; and finally the Roman Theater which is just rubble at this
point. Maria droned on, talked more than
listened, and left us all feeling like we were sure this could have been
better, if someone had brought the site alive with stories and information. As
it was, we piled back in the bus and went back to the island of Ortygia where
our ship was docked. We wandered in the main streets, visiting the main
cathedral, which was built around an old Doric temple so that the temple
columns were inside the church. We located a pier side café, where we dined on
fresh calamari and a ham, sausage and mushroom pizza…with lots of Moretti beer.
Finally, we returned to the ship, where shortly thereafter sails were hoisted,
and we set sail for Malta.
All that
we’d found missing in Syracuse, we found in Malta: it was a perfect day, a perfect tour, a
perfect tour guide and an absolutely beautiful city. Bob had been here in the Navy, 46 years ago,
and had fond memories of the island. The last time he had made the dramatic
approach into Grand harbor, Valletta, he was standing on the Bridge of his
aircraft carrier…so he was up at 6am, in hoodie & slicker, to repeat the
experience on the bridge of Star Clipper. He was thrilled!
Di and Russell had been here numerous times,
either dropping or picking up sailing yachts for wealthy owners; and I was the novice of the crowd. But, not totally ignorant. After all, Dorothy Dunnett set the third of
her Francis Lymond series, “The Disorderly Knights”, here on the Malta
of the 1560’s. The great Siege of Malta was a two-month long battle between the
Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, and the invading Turks of the Ottoman Empire.
It was a battle between Christianity and the infidel Muslims, and at the end of
two months of bitter and ruthless fighting, the Turks were beaten back, and
Christianity in the Mediterranean, was saved.
The Knights of Malta with their leader the Grand Master Jean Parisot de
la Valette (after whom the town is now named) were outnumbered ten to one, but
valiantly they beat back the enemy and it remains a symbol of how the meek and
mild with determination can beat back the bullies of life.
Our tour
leader was a lovely woman named Fabrizia. From the moment she switched on her
mike on the bus until we parted ways four hours later, we were in the hands of
a charming, knowledgeable, witty and engaging guide. She knew how to keep her audience’s attention
as we drove through the boring outskirts of the town, as we marched through
town squares, down narrow streets and into cathedrals. She knew her history but
doled it out in such a way to keep us all engaged and interested – a rare
talent.
Our first
stop was Mdina, the original ‘capital’ of Malta – a lovely medieval city to the
south of Valetta where we walked the narrow streets, still wet after a night’s
rain storm, looking up at balconies, down at cobblestones, and in between
admiring the array of door knockers which seem to be famous and HUGE. We then
returned to Valetta, the present capital, where we visited the St. John’s
Cathedral an amazing site gilt-laden with all the knight’s tombs covering the
floor with their in-laid marble tombstones, each more elaborate than the next. I don’t usually like churches, but this one
was amazing. I kept snapping pictures hoping that at least one of them will be
able to show the amazing beauty of the place.
Valetta is
primarily a large tourist attraction at this point. It has all the modern stores
from Marks & Spencer to Benneton’s, sprinkled in between cafes, restaurants
and tourist kitsch shops. Tourism is the
primary source of revenue and the Maltesians are building and improving things
as quickly as possible. You sense that there is significantly more prosperous a
community than that we had seen the day before in Syracuse, and Bob was
hard-pressed to identify the same avenues and sites he had seen many years
before what with the scaffolding and changes made to modernize the city.
At one point
while we were waiting for our group to re-convene, there appeared uniformed
guards on horses, sirens, police cars etc.
Our guide turned to one of the horsemen as he rode by to ask “who is
it?” and the man replied with an embarrassed smile: “I don’t know”.
Once we had
bid our guide good-bye, we headed for a beer – CISK is the brand of Malta, and
a sandwich made with their special bread
FTIRA, and then we wandered back to the ship far below in the harbor,
where upon arrival at the port we had to have another beer to fortify ourselves
for the sail away.
I thoroughly
enjoyed Malta and can see that this is a country I would visit again. There is
a wealth of history going back to the Stone Age, and up through WW II when
Malta was bombed to smithereens by the Germans. There are sites to be visited
in more leisure, parks to wander in, vistas to examine high above the sea, with
ancient fortresses and narrow medieval streets as backdrop, foods to sample and
stores to poke through. We all enjoyed our day and would gladly return sometime
in the future.
But now it was
time to get back on board to meet our new sail-mates. Today was a change over day. The Brits are
gone, and in their place we were expecting a group from ‘Road Scholars’ and a
few other stray individuals. It is
obvious that that we are a smaller band of sailors at this point. There are
only 81 guests aboard (versus the 132 on the last leg), and we are beginning to
look familiar to each other.
Today we
were at Porto Empedocle, Sicily, an industrial port with no charm, but an entry
point for Agrigento. There was a tour to see some of the most complete Greek
ruins in the world, but we were sort of “antiquity ruined-out”, so we called it
our ‘sea day’ and took the time to catch up on email, reading and this blog.
Tonight at dinner we’ll learn all about what we missed, as we sail out again on
our way to Trapani, on the west coast.
These last two stops replace what we should have had as our stops in
Tunisia, but the US State Department has warned people away from visiting
Tunisia for the time being, and the ship has chosen small Italian ports as a
safer alternative. From those who know Tunisia, I’m told we’re not missing
anything, and we’ll have to believe them for now.
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