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 caf
Guide book boy told me later that there is still one guide on Stromboli that will take folks to the top. Next time, my good man, next time.
great writing good entry.
love this bit:
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.
Just not like the crap in a travel column someone get’s paid for.