I am sitting now at a place called Moby Dick, near the hydrofoil dock in the city of Lípari, on the island of the same name. We ordered big beers, and we got big beers. Our boat back to the main island leaves in two hours. The wind for which the islands are named is kicking up a bit, making our stay under the bar’s giant umbrella quite pleasant. The view isn’t much, though.

Said fuego when we saw our room in the hostel in Canneto (just up the coast from Lípari), “did I hear the price correctly?” The cheapest place on the trip was also the roomiest, coolest (in the literal sense), and even had its own bathroom. It’s not quite the busy season on the islands, so the rate might be going up in a couple more weeks. The only downside was noise; our balcony overlooked the main road and people around here get up pretty early in the morning to buzz around on their noisy little scooters. At night, however, the streets are quiet.

After we settled in we made a grocery store run to stock the fridge and then we explored the town, which didn’t take long. We settled in at a sidewalk café for a beer or two, and I noted that the waitress had a demeanor so bored and aloof that she could have worked in a czech bar — even Crazy Daisy, where they are still looking for a new Anti-Amy, and She Who Smiles Rarely is just a memory. (Don’t get me wrong, the service at Crazy Daisy is still perfunctory and sullen, but they don’t have any true masters of the craft working there right now.)

The inclusion of a co-traveler on this trip changed its nature somewhat, from a break to get some good work done in a place without all the distractions of home to a more traditional moving-about-and-looking at-things trip. That’s fine; there’s a lot of cool stuff to look at in Sicily. Yesterday, however, was a combination of both, and was a truly great day. It started lazily, my brother booked our afternoon boat trip and then laid on the beach while I worked for a while. After a short but deep siesta it was time to head for the dock.

We clambered aboard our boat for a 10-hour cruise. The boat was not overfull and there was plenty of room on the top deck where we settled in, surrounded by azure waters, kissed by the sun (I had on SPF 60), cooled by breezes. There is something about being out on the water, even if it’s a tourist boat and you’re surrounded by other tourists, as if the troubles of land-dwellers are anchored to the shore and cannot follow into that mysterious realm. Out there is serenity and freedom; thoughts can wander where they might, and be in no hurry to arrive anywhere.

The boat took us first to a good swimming area off the island of Panarea.  I splashed around with my mask and snorkel, enjoying the water, but overall there wasn’t that much to look at. Once everyone was back on the boat we zipped around a rocky point and reached the little town and its port, where we were given time to help the local economy.

An aside: my feet have been taking a beating on this trip. I bought new sandals which gave me blisters, my feet have been chewed up by some sort of creature, and overall they’ve seen better days. On Panarea I elected barefoot over stuffing still-wet feet into my hiking boots, and the hot black rocks of the street drove me straight to a filp-flop store. They only had women’s flip-flops, but the store owner (who was very friendly and helpful) removed the big flower ribbons and what was left was a spartan but quite serviceable pair of sandals. I am bonding with them already; the rattan deck is good for the sole and there will be no squeaking.

The boat tooted “Shave and a Haircut” and the cruise continued on past some dramatic rocks in the middle of the sea to the island of Strómboli. We had hoped to climb to the rim of the crater and look down into the fiery depths, but the tours to the top (most at night for enhanced firey-depths visuals) have not been running since February. Apparently rather than showers of fiery rock, the volcano has been producing plumes of stinky gas. Not so pleasant for Joe Tourist. However, in this case I thing fuego and I are a bit different than the average tourist. There are tours for the geologically inclined; perhaps those still get closer to the action.

At any rate, we had a pleasant time on the island, enjoying seafood appetizers and beers while I watched the volcano puff out periodic clouds of ash and smoke, which were carried away by the wind, gradually losing coherence until there wasn’t much left by the time the next puff came. Smoke signals of the Gods? A message from Strómboli to friends on neighboring planets?

Back in the boat we stopped for a while off the steep side of the island and watched rocks, ejected from the cone, tumbling down the slope to splash into the sea. After a while people were quiet enough and I heard what sounded like distant fireworks. The next plume came with a pair of low booming sounds, and there was an intermittent popping sound. Gas was escaping from here and there on the side of the volcano as well, and overall it looked like this was a mountain that Meant Business.

In the dusk the boat turned for home, and we chatted amiably with some of our fellow travelers, an English couple, who were quite fun. Back in Canneto we shared a jug of wine or three with them, exchanging stories and our views of the world, then it was time to go back to the room and sleep.

That’s a pretty good day, right there.