Bailey Alexander: The Europhile

Taking photos from our flat, taking trains from Geneva to Zurich

 

The deeply personal world of Social Media.

Such profound change in both media and advertising blows the mind, but exactly which which rules apply is perplexing.  

I'm comfortable with LInkedIn and enjoying its natural shift into facebook and twitter, but still...

After meeting with the wise queen in Zurich yesterday, I decided to finally apply some serious study to the phenom that is social media.

It's quite a labyrinth to navigate but I did manage to mine the major players.  One such guy named Seth wrote The medium is no longer the message, you are.

Signor Goldstein clarifies his point in the comments section where furs were ruffled, understandably, "To be clear, I am simply saying that the medium is no longer *just* the message. What I was trying to illustrate in this essay was that in a social media context where identities are known that people themselves become a form of media.

Well, that's a relief, but it is all about trust, which poses a problem, I mean, who's going to trust a woman that wears opera length gloves with a Dartanian style cape at two in the afternoon?  Not me, certainly.

Another popular guy Chris Brogan, is not only a trust agent he's co-authored a book called Trust Agent, naturally. I found it unsettling to read his recent blog which speculates about those who shall go down in flames in 2012.  Social media space is, if anything, fluid.  And there's more than a whiff of motivational speaking, if you get my drift.

One ponders whether the boom and bust cycle has already run its course, alas, no worries, M. Brogan quickly addresses my concern, "Is This Gloomy?  No. I think this is business. This is a new space. There’s always an adoption curve, a glut, and then a thinning out – a normalizing. I think this is just part of the flow.

Well, I for one am relieved, giddy even marketing webconsult; it's traditional IT services and successful mission critical projects are proving attractive to VC's here in Geneva, very grateful indeed.

Drama in Italy and I'm not talking Don Giovanni

So Silvio gets whacked by a whack with a statuette of the Duomo, MIO DIO!   ciò che sta accadendo!

And just last week, at a social here in Geneva, a Roman gal told us of a recent protest in Rome, 500,000 Italians came out against Silvio....I'd no idea, not even a libretto written about these manifestations simmering down south.but then, Silvio does own most of the media.  Makes me rewind time back to 2003 when I marched for 7 hours throughout all the piazzas in Rome against the Iraq war, only to turn on the tv that night and see nothing, nada, rien, niente.....

What is going on, anyway, is Italy getting antsy or is this a point in time (Iraq/Chilcot enquiry in London) simply the comeuppance for Blair and Berlusconi.

I asked a friend, Carola Vannini, a very talented architectural designer who lives in Rome what she thought and she responded on my facebook page,

"Well!  lots of people start feeling very uncomfortable here. And the protest was really huge. Rome was completely stuffed. No violence. At the moment I don't think there will be another...
but it's something....
Italy looks now like an island for starlettes and corrupted politicians...

Populism; How the dividing line discourages discourse

So yes, watching Du Rouge Sur la Croix helped to rinse out the bad taste but the movie enforced the distance war has traveled. Back at the battle of Solferino when the Italian and French were fighting the Austrians you had to come mighty close to kill the enemy.  Today,an American can assassinate a Pakistani with a predator drone while sitting thousands of miles away behind a console. 

Frank Rich has a great article about another kind of dividing line, the one between Wall Street and Main Street.  To illustrate his point he cites Hollywood's latest 'brilliant coda' starring George Clooney.  Clooney's character is paid to fire people.  At one point a colleague recommends doing it via video conference so they don't have to be in the same room, they can save time and resources. 

Doesn't this movie sound great...but rather than cancel Christmas there's always the gift that keeps on giving; Populist Palin.  However Christopher Hitchens cautions readers on her brand of populism and her influential pals like  Frank Malek, they are very naughty people indeed. 

But Obama's inability to properly feel and address the people's pain is making more room for Palin.  It was interesting to note how both left and right were equally enthusiastic when Obama spoke of war while accepting his peace prize, but his troubles are mounting and he reacts slowly, by consensus.

America is shifting emotionally as political heroes on both the right and left now appear to aim their anger towards the same target, the Federal Reserve Bank and its chairman, Ben Bernanke. As Rich notes, "Like the institutions it failed to police during the boom, it wields its power from on high with little transparency to those below." 

Populism is now very "in" as it builds a bridge between left and right or maybe it's simply an extension of discouraging discourse.  As Gore Vidal said in his essay on "Chaos", The English have never stopped talking since Chaucer's time and the other Europeans are ready-tongued, vocal, imaginative people, whose very folklore and early dialects have been preserved by the ceaseless stream of talk on castled terraces and on village greens since Gothic Times.

But our democracy terrifies the individual, and our industrialism seals his lips.  The punishment is very effective.  It is simply this: "If you say such things as that, I won't play with you."

Last week wasn't all that...

I'm in need of a visit to the Red Cross Museum.  I need something to wash the filthy taste of war and rhetoric out of my mind.  I need to actually see the Geneva Convention Documents, if only to make my head right again.  Thankfully mio marito has the film about Henri Dunant.  His memoirs inspired the The Red Cross, recipient of the first Nobel Peace Prize.  Must watch tonight, maybe that will help. 

This week was just wrong all way 'round. Palin, the Creationist supporting science and debating Al Gore on Facebook, then The Guardian had to recycle her ghost written piece from the Washington Post if only for funny comments to ensue.  The English are still the funniest country of them all.  Who else could give us Tony Blair.  He who Barry thinks has both sizzle and substance. Oh, and just last night Blair reminded us all, that despite it all, he'd still invade Iraq.

Watching Obama accept his prize, only to talk about war the entire time was more than a bit unsettling.  Apparently, as President he says he'll defend and protect the nation.  Someone suggested he was sworn in to defend and protect the Constitution but alas, there's no competing with Barry's ability to contradict himself as he explains his right to wage wars unilaterally, not unlike the Bush Doctrine and so many doctrines before; perpetual war for perpetual peace.

But more importantly I ponder the question, why does he stick out his chin so much? I wish someone, maybe Michelle, would ask him to stop. He looks like a petulant little boy when he does that, which is almost always.  I realize this is personal, petty even, but it possibly serves to highlight his inexperience, providing the rationale behind bringing in the old financial and political players of recent past.  As if his new role as Lord of the Manor dictates he rely upon old staff to hide his inability to ease effortlessly into the part.  Either way, it's uncomfortable to watch.

I don't know, there's something rotten in the state of denmark, there's something suspicious or simply deceptively subtle lurking behind the rhetoric and Glenn Greenwald ponders the strange consensus at his address. 

Swissmix

I don't know much about Geneva but I do know it's the most international place on the planet with at least 40% of the population made up of expats. 

Cyclin' the Swiss Alps up to Mont Blanc

Le Glacier & Mont Blanc

Minarets, The Swiss, and the WTO, once again.

Relocating to Geneva reminds me of exactly one decade ago.  While living at the corner of Olive and Boren I enjoyed my salon in the sky for several blissful years.  I was single and very social, prior to meeting mio marito who would dictate a more conventional home, like buying a houseboat. 

Mio Dio, Silvio's literally 'rocking and rolling', allot, at 72

The term 'rock and roll' or 'rocking and rolling' was secular black slang for sex in the 30's and 40', then gospel artists hijacked it, then Alan Freed and others brought the term along with black music into mainstream society.

Logic would follow, at least Italian logic, that our dear leader, Silvio, would thus make the cover of Rolling Stone.  Apparently, according to the Independent, he's rocking and rolling allot.

Murdoch n Microsoft go bully while British gov't becomes more nanny than ever...

Very, very bad news for anyone living in London This law is so peculiarly awful but not so surprising for the Nanny state, is it?  Just as questionable is Murdoch and Microsoft's partnership and strategy for paying businesses to ignore Google.  Biz Stone, Twitter co-founder suggests the two magnates are trying to put the genie back in the bottle.  Ignore google.  Good Luck.

However, very, very good news that Velib, the bike hire scheme we used all the time in Paris, is coming to London.  Still theft and vandalism will be a challenge, as it is in the other European cities that promote its use for their residents, but somehow I imagine in the UK, unique issues shall arise...

A cartoon, a cosmic joke, or a country overwhelmed by its own pathologies.

Everything's sort of cartoonish, isn't it?  America's most popular movies are either animated and/or infused with so many special effects they affect a raving headache rather than make you think.  I can't handle the combination of audio and doomsday narrative and I'd rather watch something like Night of the Iguana anyway.

Such straightforward behavior makes me appreciate Italy's less than transparent ways

Catherine Ashton, Baroness Ashton of Upholland, in fact, becomes EU foreign policy chief.

Sacha Baren Cohen and Sarah Palin; willful ignorance masquerading as native wit.

Sarah's in full press this week and Sacha's hustling Bruno on DVD via NPR so no surprise I find they align nicely in the mind, after all, both play to base emotions and motives and both insist wit and science are no longer necessary in either comedy or politics.   

Climate Change; instill some fear into yourself with science.

Sir David Attenborough asks the obvious question, which part of climate change is due to natural causes, which part to human activity.  Here's the chart.

Even the most ardent activist and hardened skeptic can agree on the following fact; faced with so much science and data , why not try and address the risk, slow it down, now, when we have the window like this guy, in his video, spread the word.

Listening to "Prescious" on itunes; an otherly experience to embrace.

For avid readers who prefer their own imagination to someone else's interpretation, audiobooks can detract rather than enhance.  Recently I've enjoyed re-visiting Rebecca and The Castle of Otranto if only because my imagination dictated the first impression. 

But In regards to Sapphire's "Precious", well, that's a different gig entirely.

Glenn Greenwald ponders two establishment journalists' attitude towards Israeli aid.

Is using aid to Israel as leverage becoming a mainstream idea?  Glenn Greenwald explores the taboo topic by cross referencing Friedman's inconsistent column with Joe Klein's piece in TIME.  Friedman, of course, is too coy to carry his thoughts to their natural conclusion so Greenwald does it for him but GG's surprised by the harsh and realistic tones of both columnists.

Lee Daniels digestivo; "I'm a little euro, homo and ghetto."

Benissimo, certo, after listening to the NPR interview with Lee Daniels my appetite's been sufficiently whet, like an aperitif, it is certainly time to see his movie called Precious.  

Here in Northern Italy, the local digestivo consists of one part soda, prosecco and Campari with a slice of orange or lemon and that's how it felt listening to Sig. Daniels speak, he's so utterly charming, enticing and refreshingly authentic. I'd no idea what the next question would inspire in this guy, how he'd relay a chapter of his life, a family member, a situation, he was so eloquent.   He inspired the mind to wind back to former lives and times. 

Merkel's Sturm und Drang; Issues addressed, Hopes dashed

Italy convicted 23 secret agents, challenging the CIA's extraordinary renditions.  Odds are the agents may simply be issued new passports but the world is paying attention, the statement has been made.  As I said in previous posts, Italy does it differently, that's why they adroitly pay off the Taliban chiefs to keep their troops safe.  It's Berlusconi's way and say what you want about Silvio's 'art of the deal' making ways, I'm not sure he'd have his hopes dashed as did Merkel.

Italians taking care of their own corruption and why we should be grateful Murdoch has to sue Silvio

I'm so tired of the world suggesting Berlusconi's the 'most corrupt' of them all.  Blair, Bloomberg and the rest have all been deeply complicit in their own media mind control.  Their ambition to stay in the limelight so blatant, overt and corrupt in and of itself.

Venice...

This weekend la serenissima breathes as the tourists clear out...took some pics, funny ones with fake papillons and casino entrances insisting 'no guns', 'no umbrellas' allowed....enjoy...

 

Thanks to friends, travel and social media...

...I've enjoyed a lovely birthday and it's only half over; received kisses from Dutch n Swedish friends, kind wishes from the isle of both Malta and New Zealand, lovely, wonderful notes from Paris, Rome, London and from across the pond, old friends from NY, Chicago and Seattle sent their very best, forwarding them in advance to arrive on time.

tony blair update; non merci, non grazie, nein danke.....

Pics of Albatross chicks and 350.org; poluting our planet out of existence.

 

Edith Sitwell and Mata Hari; Eccentric women worth reading and watching...

The Independent asks whether Mata Hari was she a double agent meant to disappoint and exasperate both sides, alas, no one really knows...files to be released in 2017 may assist but the mystery is so much more fun and inspires another eccentric, Edith Sitwell and her poem about the 'great Popinjay'

Dawn Powell on Gore Vidal, "not to be fit in any fashion"

Sig.Vidal's sun is setting and he may be grieving for a circle and country long gone but while we overlook Lignano this October eve his views prove as probable and prescient as ever.

I love Vidal, read him often, but must rely on Dawn Powell's acute observation circa '54: "Something of a Disraeli, a high patrician like Solomon in judgment and philosophic power with wit, poetry and music.  Not to be fit in any fashion, but will outlive them all, like the great ones."

Discussing de Chirico up north while watching Gomorrah down south

Mio marito skidded in from Geneva as did an old pal from Seattle, Ian Mcfail, visiting while in the midst of his adventure having a Giorgio de Chirico authenticated at the foundation in Rome.  I bestow all the de Chirico energy as I've posted about friends with their own originals.  Either way, Ian has a pretty spectacular collection for your purview if interested on Facebook. 

Even though the cold winds have arrived and the men have left it still feels like la dolce but now I'm alone and Zurich and Milan remain one week away, it's time for new film. Fortuitously enough, upon picking up my MacBook Air from the techie hospital in Venice I located what mio marito suggested I see and I say there's a reason we've driven thru this commune, quickly, without dropping in for a caffe macchiato, rather than stay for a tour.

Travelling to Trieste, coffee capital of the world

My guy insisted we go to Trieste as we'd never been before...the city was grand, all Austrian Hungarian architecture on full display, not to mention a million sailboats.  As if I hadn't see enough, alas, the Barcolana was in full swing, arguably the largest sail race in Europe, some sort of casual crazy race of families and somesuch, who knows....but it was lovely.  Generally i post my own pic but someone else posted the onlyh one worth viewing
 

Venice; La Serenissima...

 

A basket of currencies to replace the greenback

Per previous posts the US dollar is in dangerous demise worldwide.  According to the Daily Telegraph meetings are being held in France and China and Brazil with invitations to all the players except the Americans.

Robert Fisk in the Independent reports on 'China's extraordinary new financial power – along with past anger among oil-producing and oil-consuming nations at America's power to interfere in the international financial system – which has prompted the latest discussions involving the Gulf states'.

It makes me wonder if this will finally push the British into accepting the Euro. It could happen, we just watched the Irish buckle up their economic seat-belt by ratifying the treaty.  If they hadn't experienced such a financial crash, right after benefiting more than any other EU entry, they might have voted differently, but this is different world order, one that'll see the devalue of the dollar really start on its way.

Sexual Relations with Letterman and Polanski

Somewhere along the yellow brick road I lost the desire to impose morality on other people. Godot arrived, advised otherwise and once again I live in the land where love, sex and skin is everywhere, therefore overlooked, almost irrelevant, especially here in sunny, laissez faire Punta Faro marina in Lignano Sabbiadoro. 

So many syllables, must be the close proximity to Germany, either way I find I'm thriving in my temporary lifestyle. No one is as surprised as I, now more than before as I'll soon be in Milan or Zurich. My existence inspires the mind to be utterly quiet at times, decreasing the energy of my personal existential angst.  The days may be spent online or addressing the remaining issues on the boat but the nights are so still with solitude my body' becomes little more than a sliver, a slice nestled with a hammock within a womb serenading me to sleep.  I'm awaken either by silence surrounding my life or the dogs demanding it's time to go above for a sec, that's why it's called the poop deck.

Lisbon Treaty: Second time's a charm, Ta's trump.

Astonishingly enough the Irish have ratified the treaty.  Now for the tricky bit, positioning the EU presidency.  Position's open and we all know who's campaigned the loudest.  Merkel's vote is the most decisive, obviously, and like many Europeans they'd prefer anyone but the 'brand' that is Tony Blair but if she can lobby her candidate in the foreign high representative slot, maybe the rictus grin will be on display center stage. 

 

"Brands" are often empty suits but lonely hearts are the real deal

Rarely does the concept of 'branding' live up to its own hype.  Therefore it comes as no surprise that now the world has less money to spend on the concept it conjures up fairy tales such as The Emperor's New Clothes rather than any desire to acquire or buy into a 'brand', super or less than.  

Rarely does the concept of 'branding' live up to its own hype.  Therefore it comes as no surprise that now the world has less money to spend on the concept it conjures up fairy tales such as The Emperor's New Clothes rather than any desire to acquire or buy into a 'brand', super or less than.  

Uh-oh, Professor Higgins was a no show at Sarah Palin's debut in Hong Kong

Apparently the Alaskan blogger gave hundreds of financial big-hitters at the CLSA Investors' Forum a less than spectacular performance. In fact, a couple of US delegates walked out saying, 'it was awful, we couldn't stand it anymore'. Robert Fisk, in The Independent goes two steps further when writing about listening to Eliza in China.  His opening lines, "Grotesque, unprecedented, bizarre, unbelievable".  Ouch.

Happiness is...

...on the decline for women according to a study on HuffingtonPost.  Maureen Dowd, who's never pretended to be happy puts on her own spin.  I like Dowd, she's bitter and a stereotypical NY'er and very good at her job. I begrudge her nothing, she's honest.

So what happened. Quello che è successo? This study started in the 70's when women were 'officially' allowed to find their independence, but let's not discount those that did prior to permission, in fact, the one's I know seem relatively content, but let's review the Study and play along.

Sarko, Silvio and the devastatingly handsome M de Villepin

Swearing and Cycling, equally enjoyable sport.

I've adapted easily to this new routine, this sporty, cycling life, filled with fresh fruits and veggies.  I'm even doing Pilate's on the bow of the boat in the morning sun using the same large rubber matts we used to view the stars on midnite watches, no longer missing my Pilates machines stuck in storage.

Life's pretty healthy and organic. I'm meeting my laid back neighbors, working on my Italian, enjoying the rhythms of their arrivals and departures as they come to putz for an hour, take the family out sailing for a day or escape back onto the dock alone for a peaceful overnite sleep, winking my way, offering a quiet 'ciao'.  How can one not luv the Italians...

Oh dear, Glenn Beck dictates the discourse...

Last night I downloaded several podcasts and sat back for a long listen.  Initially it was inspiring with some pundits wishing to end partisan politics but quickly the discourse descended into base vitriol with policy sifted effortlessly into cyberdust. 

When conservatives like Auberon Waugh and his Etonian brethren of a certain era issued vituperative remarks they maintained upward mobility because they were played as farce, a spoof, until the winds changed tack and libel laws inspired Mr. Waugh to write seriously, which he did, about wine and travel rather than Lord Goldenballs and Nora Balsoff. 

MADI, Mother Nature and Antonino Morocutti's Memoirs

One of the benefits of a 'liveaboard lifestyle' is close proximity to mother nature.  You become much more aware of everything, including oneself while in close proximity to mother nature. Everything you do and use is inspected on a base level and I've become even more weather obsessed than ever.

As much as I may love this time of year, this climate, this place and the variable weather, the perspective shifts dramatically aboard a boat when the skies open up with thunder and lightning, if only to accentuate the drama...this is Italy, operatic et al, so I suppose one must be careful for what they ask as the answer may arrive and collide in one's cockpit, located not so conveniently on top of one's cabin, quite suddenly, as it did aboard MADI.

While sailing we saw so many stars...

Still Life of a Liveaboard

Option A was to stay in the Malta flat in that heat and that air with transportation via mio marito's motorcycle or 60 yr old buses blowing billows of black smoke. 

Option B was to become a liveaboard within country club environs with transportation via my nice new white bike and golf carts with personal drivers.

Option B is working out really, really well.  In a month or two we'll decide upon a country to call home, permanently, or as much as a nomadic European and an obliging europhile can call any home permanent.For now, we domicile in a divine space with the most breathable, fragrant air and nature as surround sound.  Venice is but a half hour away, Vienna a pleasant train ride.  Lignano Sabbiadoro is Italian style infused with German competence; molto bellissimo, tranquillo, perfetto.  Option B, brilliant.

Architectural sonatas as performed by Rome, Austria-Hungary, and Tito

We parked at ACI marina in Pula, our last stop in Croatia.  The views were spectacular, if not extreme.  At first we have the Imperial grandeur of Rome, a lovely coliseum, if not thee coliseum.

Food, conversation and the kids tour their twenty-third.

Simple fare; fish, white wine and local water have been super for the diet and waste line for both me and my guy but finally we enjoy fries and a meat platter, wonderful stuff.

Here are the kids, Colette and Godot visiting country number 23...I'm thinking a book perhaps as I have pics to prove...this idea is teasing and tempting the commercial mind to coincide with the less than lite stuff. Hey, wait, I forgot, Colette was born in Australia, she's been to more continents than I....

 

While life is still bare of clouds, chatter and things that don't matter...

Weather channel's insisting we stay at port another nite lest the Bora winds get the best of us so I've time to post pics from Mali Losinj.  And si, oui, scenery's still drop dead gorgeous.

Walking away from the coastline, like the town before, the views transport my mind back to Northern California near my birthplace, where the lovely stucco homes are protected by elegant palms...then a home or two ago in Rome, even the Azores make an appearance, then time rewinds and I'm transported to Seattle, distinctly PacNorthwest territory with its deep pine forests  

Dining along the pines, beneath the bridge of sighs

A block from the marina we dine along the pines, just beneath the bridges, modeled after the Venetian 'bridge of sighs' where convicts were allowed their last divine gasp of the most feminine, the most pure city of them all.

Croatia arrives as advertized; drop dead gorgeous

Cruising the Caribbean was culturally diverse with its islands of French, British and Danish descent and sailing from Seattle to Desolation Sound was deeply pretty, pristine and clean but Croatia, well, it has castles, cathedrals and 'bridge of sighs' kind of architecture via Venice.

From the immortal lettres a la Jim Carrey, this place is absolutely B.E.A uuuuuuutiful.  

Capitano brings us into Marco Polo's birthplace in Korcula

 

Back in the land of fashion and food

Still floating in Otranto, taking a breather prior to sailing across the Adriatic to cruise Croatia and then enter La Serenissima.  And why not, this town is quite the party, it could easily rival the Edinburgh fringe festival for eclectic music and entertainment, at least by square mile. 

Otranto may be tiny but performance art, jugglers, musicians absolutely swarm the place at sunset.  After dinner when back on the boat we listen to latin, techno or italian female crooners carrying their sound across the water to MADI and no one hangs out better than the Italians, basta cosi.

So I must give thanks to the gods of fate for allowing the quality of the food and fashion to pronounce its style in color and variety once again.  The pasta and fish equally fantastic and discussed and loved upon arriving at the table with just the right amount of fuss. 

By day the Otrantini bronze at the beach and by night the walls of the castle and the boardwalks compete with sounds and visions for everyone to enjoy.  Otranto took us totally by surprise, what a welcome and perfect reprieve...

Anchored out near Otranto's Castle.

How fabulous is that!  Quite, in fact, but not without its multiple tasks, bruises, abrasions, work and lack of sleep, some of which we've received back, but do need much more, svp. Gosh, had to edit prior post, a rarity, but it was written as if waiting for the lift.

Mi dispiace, allora, we've arrived. Even Godot. So here we float, situated at the Eastern most proper tip of Italy; Otranto.  Madi is anchored alongside Otranto's castle, ready to stay steady for a day or two, maybe three if something breaks, which something almost always does, just about everyday, when you're sailing...

Here's a beach perspective of Madi with the red Tinker tramp hugging her port side.  The Tinker, the world's only inflatable/dinghy/sailboat.

Robert and the Tink dropped me, C, n G at the port to see if there might be room at the inn, there was not, so I ventured into the town to find shops where we could buy other stuff to fix the other stuff that broke. 

Unfortunately, when I walkietalkied my taxi service my chauffeur wasn't any too happy to see me as the engine had broke en route so we were towed by some awfully nice Otrantini back to Madi.

I didn't mind, I was whistling and rowing happily enuf, enjoying rare and real exercise but kindness is something too precious to push away...   Gosh, I didn't even play walkietalkie as a kid but it was fun, if silly, but silly's good...sleep's even better....   

After a nite out w/the Genovesi we set sail to Santa Maria di Leuca

The Italians aboard the lovely 50ft beneteau with passarelle boasting black lights (tres chic), on our port side suggested we hit the well known fish joint across the marina.  They'd just spent two months sailing along Croatia and had much news to impart and we're listening as that's our next destination.

We met Allesandra, (pictured above) Michele, and Giacomo to enjoy the first proper meal I've had in too long...once again, all is right in life as some invisible magician orchestrates that food and wine simply appear, course after course, et.

Allessandra's one of those cool chicks from Genoa who works in Milan and speaks some English and likes to party, so we do. The cigarettes, cigars and camaraderie float down from up North and play surround sound for the night.  We may no longer smoke but its outside and just fine as Allesandra tries to seduce me into dancing into the nite, but I'm spent.

Her father, Michele, is the kind of Italian that exudes an ease with life; retired, content, happy to hang with his daughter and friend, and cook, Giacomo. Allesandra's twin brother is far away, in NY, learning English and Economics. I'm pretty sure I'll see Allessandra again and it's so nice to have to speak Italian, struggle though it may be after three years in Parigi.

When the pasta arrives, I can taste the Italian herbs.  The volcanic ash is at work and the cows have been sung to in Italian so the food is simply bettah, so there.  I can practically channel Paul Giametti in Sideways, identifying the grape within the Italian white wine butter sauce. Colette and Godot joined us at the table, we're all so relaxed, unfussed.

We set sail from Crotone at 8am, sailing at 15 knots until noon. This time I'm channeling my grandfather back when he used to sail one of his many mistresses in the san francisco bay, of the inanimate/yachting persuasion.  The waves and wind hid hard.  By mid afternoon, everything calms down, we then pull out the deck chairs at 6, have a cocktail and peacefully enter the harbor of Santa Maria di Leuca at 10pm and anchor out. 

So here we are, at the southern most tip of the heel, dello stivale, in Santa Maria de Leuca....

 

A bit of a slog, allot of bliss, but we're back...

...in the land where the coffee tastes like milkshakes and the pasta is al dente, finally! Benissimo!!!  Such a process this exercise of sailing.  It took some time to prepare. First I became at one with MADI.  Cleaned, bleached, waxed and varnished her back to life: packing along bits of Italy, France,Gore Vidal and  Dawn Powell to keep company. Provisioned for a coupla days but Maltese fruit, like the little banana, lasts little longer than a day.

Nav station, pilot house in order and V-birth stashed and organized

  We're ready to set sail...

6 hr watches, mio marito prefers the night, I the day...our times overlap, we all catch the sun rise and set along Sicily.

W'ere so blissed out, our thoughts focused on nothing other than the stars exploding, the sun's moods, life's so nice a dragonfly joins us 12 miles out from the coast along the Ionian Sea.

On the 3rd day we tie up at Porto Vechio Crotone, in blessed Italy as the cute kids whiz along the marina in their vespa...

Alors, with the Italians and French flanking either side, we're happy and secure....time to drink some milkshakes, wake up and explore the town prior to setting sail towards Otranto tomorrow...