Capri

After a leisurely afternoon following the Sicilian tour, I was ready for something more adventurous and interesting and I got it in spades in Capri. First, we had to make sure Brianna was well-cared-for on the ship. Unfortunately, not all Holland America ships have their shit together (okay, I shouldn't use trite phrases when real English will do). . . Not all Holland America ships have well-organized port-day activities for the children that coordinate with actual off-shore excursion times. The Zuiderdam in particular had an all-new crew and had only been sailing the prior two weeks, with very few children. So this week, there were more kids for them to look after, but they seem to have this idea that parents should only take shore excursions that correspond to their posted work times (and it differs for each ship, so how would one know which tours to book ahead of time?!?). So I had to make special arrangements to drop off Brianna early to be able to go on my six hour tour. It did at least work out okay as I paid the caregiver an extra tip, and Brianna was just as happy not to go, although I think she might have liked this tour. We started out (Mom and me) on a jet powered catamaran, and from the port of Naples, got to the island of Capri in about 45 minutes. A note on Capri: since it is an Italian island, it is pronounced KA-pree instead of the more often heard French version ka-PREE, and it means "goat". It is very rocky, with its tallest peak lost in the clouds, very vertical, such that you start climbing uphill rather immediately, and gorgeous. Yes, this is one beautiful island, and only the Richest of the rich Italians actually live here. There are lovely hotels with manicured gardens. There are trendy stores and smaller, touristy shops. The road to Anacapri (the city with highest elevation) is absolutely hair-raising! I admit I was holding onto the seat of the bus with sweaty palms, looking straight down 800 feet to the incredible turquoise waters below, and praying to Jesus (which I really do not do unless vertical feet are involved) to keep the bus on the road and the outcropping of rock upon which the road is laid stable. After one thrilling ride, I was up for another. There is a chairlift in Anacapri which takes you up to the peak at the top, and was totally worth the scare and the chill to take. It did really get chilly at the top, but the views were breathtaking. My favorite view was when passing right over the top of a small private garden, obviously decorated by someone with whimsy. It had birds of paradise flowers next to urns decorated by seashells in a mosaic pattern. There was a manequin wearing clothes, purse, belt and necklaces next to a birdbath. There were little seats for resting. And the garden was built on several terraced levels. It was so perfect, I literally shed tears. This is a happy place.
Up at the top of the chairlift were a few gatti (cats) and clouds. In fact, the clouds were below us. I am sure there is a very scenic view off the back side of Capri, but I couldn't see it. It was really spooky to be high up on a cliff, looking down, hearing the gulls' cries echoing off the sheer cliffs, but not have a visual to go with it. I didn't linger, because, being afraid of heights, it was seriously freaking me out. But I did enjoy seeing some of the Roman architecture remaining. The Emporer Tiberius (yes, that one) ruled from Capri, and I could see why he preferred it to Rome. I only stayed a little at the top, and then I was back down to meet for lunch. We watched the local lizards as we waited and marveled at how familiar their actions seemed, not unlike our own lizards back in Florida. Lunch was at La Pigna (the pine) and was divinity Italian style. I love Italian food, and the way they do it. First course is pasta, second is meat. So you don't have to choose; you can have both. Yummy. Followed by tiramisu and real espresso. Exceptional. this is the experience that I wanted to have again, and would want to repeat any time I returned to Italy.
The next point of interest was a gardens with scenic views of the cliffs. This too was just so much beauty that the eyes were full to the brim. Its like everywhere I looked was one paintable scene after another. Now this is what vacation is about. Looking around and enjoying it all.

Sicily

After a single day at sea, I was ready to start going on some solo expeditions. I knew Brianna was in good hands, staying with her Gramma on the ship. The Zuiderdam docked in Catania on the island of Sicily. I had been to Messina before, and taken an excursion to see a Roman era ruins and a beautiful church on a hill at Tindari. Similarly, I took another half-day trip, this time to the south, toward Siracusa, to see Greco-Roman ruins at the Archeological Park of Syracuse. The tour guides in Sicily are very, very passionate about their history and culture. They are proud to be Sicilian. Our current tour guide argued that there would be no Italy, no Italian culture, without the Sicilian culture as a base for it. The prior tour guide mentioned the organized-crime aspect of Sicily is alive and well, but you really don't see it unless you want to go looking for it. I would not want to live there, but it is a beautiful island. It is quite big, with lots of traffic, and lots of farms and agriculture. The straits of Messina is the location of Homer's famous Scylla (sea monster) and Charybdis (whirlpool), and our tour guide gleefully read us the description from the Odyssey. The island is also the supposed home of the goats and sheep that were not to be killed, alas which, because the crew killed and ate them, they all died leaving Odysseus alone. So it was with great hopes and expectation that I went to the Archeological Park, but like Sicily itself, I kept looking for more than it has to give. The park was interesting, there was a huge Greek theater which was restored and still in use today (not bad for a 2000 year old place!). There was a Roman Amphitheater, mostly in ruins, but you could get a feel for the size of the thing. There was an enormous pit that used to be a limestone quarry, with a few still-standing columns of stone to show where the roof would have been, and how big the cavern was. There was the "Ear of Dionysus" (named by Carravagio, the painter), a large curving slave-carved cave where echoes amplify like that of an ear canal. That was pretty cool, to go into the back of that cave and hear what was being said at the entrance. Of course, enjoying the cave with a hundred other people in at least three different tour groups and speaking in five different languages did maybe dampen the effect a little. I guess my problem with Sicily is that I would like to explore it myself, not with thirty other fat, old people on an air-conditioned bus. I would like to linger and not be a slave to the return time. I want the sole attention of a guide, so that I can interact, ask questions, and share information, not get lectured to. This is not Sicily's fault. Still, Sicily epitomizes the worst of american tourism, that is: getting just a little information, a small scope sighting, and being left to have an invalid opinion of it all.