As our trip literally “sails” to an end, everyone in the family has been reflecting on our journey across the Mediterranean thus far and is sad that this episode of our trip is coming to a close, feeling as though ‘The End Is Near’. That’s one of the chapters in Vacation Under The Volcano, Book 13 in the Magic Treehouse Series, a novella which Aunty Karen had advised I read to Chelsea (we finished the novella today). The novella is about two kids, Jack and Annie (though when I read it aloud, I said Oscar and Chelsea), travelling via magic books to the day Pompeii was destroyed by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. We visited Pompeii earlier in the trip, so as I read the book to Chelsea, I began reflecting on our time in Pompeii and the entire trip.
Our Odyssey began in Rome, where we were reunited with Aunty Karen and Uncle Doug as we toured the Colosseum, amazed by the terrifying battles once forced upon gladiators. Like the gladiators, we went through our own battles, AKA the 37 °C / 98 °F heat, as we trudged through the Roman Forum. Later, we travelled to Civitavecchia, where we boarded Kora for the first time.
We ventured for 10 HOURS to Nettuno, a quaint town. Groceries were bought, and everyone enjoyed the tantalising bliss of gelato, quite possibly the sweetest gelato we had on the trip.
After that, we journeyed to Isola di Palmarola, our first anchorage, where I took a couple accidental gulps of the nasty water and vomited (something that was not included in Aunty Karen’s blog) as my body was in total shock at the saltiness of the water. I may have refused to go back into the water that day, but the rest of the family had a wonderful time splashing about.
Continuing on, we glided down to the Island of Ponza, where the main highlight (besides the leaps of faith off the bow and the delicious sandwiches at the Frontone beach) was the rocky caverns, Grotte di Pilato. These were man-made caves where, in ancient times, the wealthiest Romans came to relax.
Jumping back on mainland Italy, we flowed towards Ischia, where a giant castle, Castello Aragonese, was waiting to be explored. We admired their chapels, gaped at the stunning views, and were enchanted by the many courtyards while strolling along the cobblestone paths. I was quite disappointed by the blog about the experience, though, as Aunty Karen didn’t mention the torture chamber (Chelsea and my favourite part); however, this can be excused as the methods will forever scar us, entangled in our minds. There was also a humorous misunderstanding where we mistakenly mistook the Nun’s Cemetery as the bathrooms from that era. The seats where they drain the nun’s dead bodies looked exactly like a toilet! We finished the day off with a walk in the picturesque gardens of Giardini La Mortella and a refreshing swim in the natural waters of Negumba Pools.
The adventure continued as the crew discovered the ruins of Pompeii. The city was home to the Bathhouses, countless shops, streets that stretched for miles, houses with peristylums, indoor gardens with openings in the roof, and impluviums, concave areas in the floor where rain would fall from another opening in the roof, providing a private water source. During the tour, I wished I had paid more attention in Latin class! There was even a place called ‘Stephanus di Fullonica’. Mum was engulfed in fury as Dad had apparently neglected to inform her about one of his exes, Fullonica! All of this was held captive by the layers of ash and pumice from Mount Vesuvius that ruined the city in 79 AD.
We sped across to Cetara, an anchorage that will hold comical memories – memories of seasick-inducing waves, hilarious tumbles off the paddleboard, horrendous mug cakes (rip-off mud cakes thrown in a mug), and the first blog Chelsea and I wrote, which was critically acclaimed. We’re waiting for our Nobel Prize!
Agropoli was up next, a marvel with its beaches, restaurants, donuts, and meringues; WOW, it was dazzling! The town was built on a hill, so as you scaled the streets, the view was spectacular, especially around sunrise and sunset. It may be one of the prettiest areas I have ever been to.
The breeze guided us to Acciaroli, a gorgeous town where we swam in a beach that may have lacked waves, but the beautiful, clear water entranced us. Our walk to dinner had us peeking around alleys and browsing the busy markets. Dinner was different that night as everyone needed a break from seafood, a surprising revelation for all.
Kora next sailed to Maratea, a hidden gem. Everyone swam at Mare Morto, an alcove with the clearest water (this beat the water at Acciaroli without a doubt). The water was so deep and so cold that the immense size and scale of the trenches facilitated an incredible variety of sea life, which glistened under the sunrays filtering through the water, casting light upon diverse flora that invaded rocky coves where crabs scuttled. Countless anemones hid little fish that would dart between your legs, blowing bubbles that danced towards the surface, which shimmered iridescently from below. The atmosphere underwater was breathtaking. Although it was underwater, so that was to be expected. This was a top contender for the best place we visited on the trip. Also, the Statue of Christ the Redeemer looked incredible during the day, but in the blog, Aunty Karen said, ‘by night, when soft lighting transforms it into a beacon,’ which makes it look like someone is levitating.
The penultimate stop was Flumefreddo Bruzio, our final anchorage, where the main goal was to capture a picture of Dad, Chelsea, and me standing upon the paddleboard. That didn’t go according to plan, and after numerous attempts, Dad gave up. The water was also quite frightening, as it was quite polluted, with every fall resulting in a plunge into water where the dreaded jellyfish lurked. Chelsea and I gripped onto the board when one floated past, fearing the sting.
And finally, Vibo Valentia, our last stop. Unfortunately, I don’t have much to say about it. I tore a ligament while swimming yesterday, so I’m unable to walk easily. While everyone, except Uncle Doug, is adventuring to a nearby town called Tropea, which is apparently famous for its beauty, I stayed behind to write the blog with the instruction that it had to be a farewell. Although Vibo Valentia is an abundance of beauty, I believe that for the crew, the bitter goodbyes will be more prevalent in our memories of this place.
Even though the farewell will sting harder than the JELLYFISH, the journey was as breathtaking as Mare Motto, as busy (in a good way) as the markets in Acciaroli, as bucolic as the view atop Agropoli, and definitely the opposite of Mug Cakes! It’ll be eternally preserved in our memories, similar to Pompeii, and as grand as Castello Aragonese. Although there were parts rockier than the Grotte di Pilato, and as salty as the water in Isola di Palmarola (mainly the long trips from place to place), the adventure was as sweet as the gelato at Nettuno and, to us, as famous as the Colosseum. So, when ‘The End is Here’, another chapter in ‘Vacation under the Volcano’, it will be sad, but at least we have all these memories to look back upon.
