Aeolian Isles

Vicki had found a sosta right on the water about an hour northwest of Messina, in Tonnarella, near the port of Milazzo, north side of the island, with a view of the Aeolian Isles.

The bigger islands nearest to us...Salina, Lipari, and Vulcano

A bitter further away, Stromboli, Sicily's other active volcano

Thus; last big eruption, 2014

The islands are named for Aeolus

Demi-god of the Winds, minor figure in the Odyssey

I feel a barrage of sunset pix coming on...

To Sicily

We got to San Giovanni, Reggio Calabria's port, by early afternoon and hopped the next Blue Lines ferry to Messina.

And there is Le Duc, first camper in a procession of mostly tractor trailers

Pushing off with the side thrusters

The Strait of Messina is a ferry paradise, scores of them constantly coming and
going across the 2 mile stretch; it is also a Homeric place, much of the Odyssey
occurring in or near these waters

En route to Sicily

Hydrofoil, for those in a hurry

Cleared for landing at Messina

We sailed aboard the good ferry Fata Morgana, well worth looking up...

Morano Calibro

With our new Michelin Agilis tires installed, we bid Rome a fond arrivaderci and headed south on the autostrada. We'll be back in early June, then again in mid-June, then again toward the end of July. The road past Naples was relatively familiar. Last time we were south of Salerno was 2011 or so and much of the freeway was under construction. The bridge/tunnel/bridge/tunnel... routine starts thereabouts or a bit further south. Vicki had found a promising sosta in the mountain-side town of Morano Calibro, and there we stayed, joined somewhat later by a young German family. A sosta is a free or low-cost parking area, generally with water and a dump, that towns and cities often provide for self-contained motorhomes. This one was great, at the foot of the interesting little town. We couldn't resist hiking up to the castle ruins. Well, I could have resisted, but Vicki was intent.

A kilometer's walk, entirely uphill a couple
hundred meters

The surrounding mountainous terrain; snow in them thar hills,
still

In the lower precincts

We just kept walking up and in the direction of
the castle, at every juncture...no signs, little in
way of a road, just steps and more steps

Many of the buildings we passed were
abandoned or in poor shape; had this place
been in northern Italy it would have been
all duded up and crawling with tourists,
tipica cuisina and souvenir shoppes at every
turn; as it was, it was not easy to find a liter
of milk (although the same little alimentari
had a bottle of single malt scotch for 12.50E
which I couldn't resist

Ever upward

Finally, the castle ruins

Hill-top church; a mass was underway

Remains of a fresco in a former abbey; scenes from the Passion

 

Nice, quiet, safe place

Caravaggio Day In Rome

The jet lag was subsiding, the camper repairs were done, Alessandro had a lead for us on new tires--but not until Tuesday--so we decided to go into The City once more, on Monday the 7th, to see some of the work of Michaelangelo de Merisi, aka Caravaggio, aka Painter of Light, aka Mr. Fruity Butt Pants. Rome is the sort of place you can just wade into without much purpose or agenda and still have a glorious time. But it helps to have some destination, even if you never get there.

In a sausage shoppe along the way

In the St. Louis church, near the Piazza Navona; over-the-top
Baroque (note linguistic change)

Among Caravaggio fans, this is the Matthew Cycle
church, in which we can see the calling of Matthew, perhaps
Caravaggio's greatest hit; note light

Matthew taking dictation from an angel
(Guido Reni's Matthew, in the Vatican, is far,
far superior)

And the Martyrdom of Matthew

Which is a good starting point for discussion of Caravaggio's
framing many, if not most, of his paintings around someone's
butt; thus, Mr. Fruity Butt Pants

Back in the nave, a fitting tribute to one of
France's greatest painters, Claude Gelee, aka
Claude Lorraine, who spent virtually his whole
career in Italy; Turner's hero; St. Louis' is the
French church in Rome

In the St. Cecilia chapel, Reni's copy of Rafael's
Ecstasy of St. Cecelia; apparently, as Vicki
noted, Rafael couldn't quite get his model into
the ecstatic state that Bernini achieved

Huge Domenichino St. Cecilia Distributing Her Clothing
to the Poor

And death of St. Cecilia...note angel carrying palm frond...
always a very, very bad sign...

Tour groups massing for attack outside the
church of St. Louis

Under the watchful eyes of boys with silly hats and machine
guns

Moving right along now toward the Piazza del Populo and more
Caravaggios

Finally, after 2,000 years, they're renovating Augustus'
Mausoleum

And now we're in the Piazza del Populo; speaking of linguistic
change, the "Piazza of the People," as it is now called, was
originally the "Piazza of the Poplars"; oh well

And now we're in the Mary basilica there,
mocking, I mean admiring, Caravaggio's
Crucifixion of St. Peter; note huge butt (hot
Peter's)

Same church, admiring Caravaggio's
Conversion of Saul; note horse butt; I rest
my case; again

Dome swirler

Walking back via the Via del Corso