20 maggio 2006

Una mail in bottiglia

Ho ricevuto un autentico messaggio elettronico in bottiglia. Oggi a uno dei miei indirizzi è arrivata una mail partita dalla barca a vela di Henry e Julie una coppia di mezza età che avevo incontrato sul treno qualche settimana fa. Sembravano due tipici turisti americani interessati, come molti connazionali di questi tempi, alle nostre Cinque Terre. Insegnanti di lettere e chimica in pensione non ricchi ma evidentemente senza problemi. Si comincia a parlare com'è usanza a bordo di qualsiasi scompartimento ferroviario. Veniamo da upstate New York, un posto di immigrazione italiana e svedese (Henry fa Danielson di famiglia e l'azzurro degli occhi lo conferma). Ripartite da Malpensa o Fiumicino? Veramente in Europa siamo arrivati in barca vela, quasi due anni fa. Prego? Sì, la nostra barca è a Fiumicino. Il porto di Fiumicino. Al momento di scambiare i biglietti da visita, poco prima di scendere a Levanto, mi accorgo che accanto ai nomi dei due ardimentosi turisti ci sono due sigle radioamatoriali. E' OM anche lei? No, veramente faccio del radioascolto soprattutto in banda broadcast. Oh, a noi la radio serve anche per la posta elettronica.
Difatti, oggi ecco arrivare una mail dal call di Henry @winlink.org. Con un bel diario di navigazione tra Ponza e Palinuro, con sosta ad Amalfi. Winlink è la rete radioamatoriale per lo scambio di posta elettronica da e verso Internet. Un progetto che si è evoluto negli anni dalle prime reti packet e diventata ormai un servizio gratuitamente accessibile da tutti i radioamatori patentati, un cospicuo numero dei quali solca i mari di tutto il mondo come il nostro Hank. Una quarantina di nodi che comunicano con gli utenti finali in HF preferibilmente via Pactor II o III cui si uniscono dei nodi in VHF/UHF in modalità Telpac. Il messaggio di Henry è arrivato, così dice l'header, attraverso la stazione italiana di questa architettura (questo articolo ne descrive l'architettura). A quel che vedo in giro Winlink genera un certo traffico. E anche qualche polemica da parte dei radioamatori fissi che protestano per l'occupazione del loro spettro con segnali Pactor che disturbano i "veri" QSO. Winlink dopotutto serve quasi essenzialmente per la posta elettronica, anche se ormai vengono veicolati anche cose come i meteofax. Ci sono anche interfacce geografiche con i sistemi APRS che consentono di individuare sulle mappe di Google gli utilizzatori del sistema. Per utilizzare Winlink con il proprio ricetrasmettitore, oltre a essere radioamatori bisogna disporre di un modem Pactor e di un software chiamato Airmail, che può essere utilizzato anche su reti a pacchetto commerciali come Sailmail, anch'esse basate sulle onde corte. Fantastico, no? Uno pensa che la radio a onde corte sia un mezzo d'altri tempi e si accorge che invece funziona perfettamente come "ultimo meglio" per l'accesso alla rete delle reti. Ultimo miglio si fa per dire: per mettersi in contatto con il nodo italiano di Winlink, Henry ha fatto un collegamento tra Palinuro e Udine, direttamente dalla sua barca a vela, il Tapestry. E visto che il suo diario di viaggio è molto piacevole e parla di luoghi che adoro, ho pensato di metterlo online. Con più di una punta di profonda invidia.

Island of Ponza

The Island of Ponza is rugged as it juts from the blue Mediterranean Sea. White and gray cliffs backed by green grasses and trees describe this volcanic island. We see a few villas scattered on the hilltops as we approach from the north. There is a lighthouse on the southern tip, high up on the rocks. In spite of the light winds, we were just able to sail along the eastern shore. It was a delightful way to take in the scene. Around the tip, on the western side, lies the port of Ponza. It is a town built on the side of the hill with colorful buildings in pink, yellow, tan and red. We anchored and took the dinghy to shore. The town itself is quiet, tourist oriented with rooms for rent and restaurants along the wall overlooking the harbor. Up the back streets we found swarms of cats, a few children on the narrow streets, and spectacular views of the harbor and the sea.
We walked into one sporting goods shop where we met Antonio. He spoke a little English, and when he learned we were Americans, he spoke a lot more. He told us he had gone to Brooklyn as a young man, married and had two daughters there. He had a fishing business and then opened a laundry. Finally he moved his business to 39th street in New York. He grossed thirty five thousand a day, made sixteen thousand a day profit. Life was good. He worked seven to seven six days a week and had holidays off. That is when he heard from his father in Italy. He was dying. Antonio returned to Italy to see his father who, on his death bed, made him promise to return to Italy. He sold his business and moved to Ponza. He put his children in Italian schools and set up his sporting goods store. He carries the best rods and reels and all kinds of fishing gear.
"People come here they want it now. There is no time to order." I have clothing business here too, all top quality. You need anything while you are here, you come see Tony." Said Antonio.
We thanked him and left. It was a brief encounter, but in spite of the fact that he was obviously doing very well, there was a sadness about him. Although we commented on the beauty of Ponza, he seemed to us to long for his life in the States.
We bought a couple chocolate filled pastries from a small shop down the way and returned to the boat where Julie prepared a game hen with risotto for supper.

Ischia to Amalphi

Early the next morning we raised anchor at Ponza and motored to Ischia. Again, the setting was spectacular. We dropped the anchor in about 20 feet, right behind a rocky cliff with a beautiful villa atop it. Interestingly, there was a cross and a tower of some kind there as well, right above the boat. Emperor Agustus traded Capri for Ischia, because of the hot springs there and their healing powers. Both Islands are beautiful, but the Isle of Capri has gotten the publicity and most of the tourists.
Ashore, we found an upscale community with lovely shops selling everything from linens to jewelry, as well as fine clothing. The shops were colorful and a delight. As we walked the streets that evening, there were men selling colorful balloons and people were obviously more well dressed than for the regular Tuesday evening.
Sure enough, there was some kind of festival going on. Several priests and a number of lay persons had formed a parade commemorating, we believe, a rite of the coming of spring. There were flags at the head of the procession and priests chanted as the people in the procession responded. I thought it was a rather weak response on the part of the local populace, but no one seemed to mind and in a minute or two the procession had passed and that was it;
We found a restaurant that served pizza, but, due to the procession and all, it wasn't open yet. But the owners came right after the ceremony and lit the wood fire under the pizza oven and by 7: 30 they were ready to take our order. Of course, we were the only ones eating at that early hour. We were back on the boat by dark and early the next morning Julie and I got up and by 7 were back in town. Julie took her run, and I went on a photographic expedition.
We had chocolate and cream filled pastries and latte in a little tratatoria on the water and then returned to the boat by 9. By 9:30, along with the Bishops in Triumph, we had raised anchor and headed for the Amalfi Coast. The wind came up, it was favorable, and we found ourselves bounding along through building seas as we passed the Isle of Capri and headed up the famous Amalfi Coast. Towns and villages are perched on the sides of incredibly steep cliffs here and rise dramatically over the sparkling Mediterranean. The water is crystal clear and clouds pass below the green volcanic peaks that jut skyward. It is miles of beautiful sailing.
As we turned into the harbor, we were met by a well tanned young man in an inflatable boat. He motored up to us and welcomed us in English and asked us if we wanted to find an excellent place to keep the boat for the night. As we had read the guide book, we knew that there was a public pier at Amalfi, and that it was reasonable in price. I asked him if he was the harbor master and he said he was. We entered the harbor and headed for the public pier when the young man doffed his straw hat, revealing a lock of golden hair, and explained that we should procede to his marina. When I refused and headed for the public pier, he became agitated. With that an older man rode his bicycle onto the pier and signaled us in. He began shouting at he man in the inflatable boat who in turn began shouting back at him. This was not an idle shouting match. Fists were raised, voices screamed, and faces turned white. I expected homicide. But the argument stopped as soon and as quickly as it had started.
We tied to the public pier where the "dockmaster" thanked us and apologized over and over for the shouting match. He helped us tie up and assured us that we had made the right decision. Meanwhile, our "buddy boat" Triumph, decided to head for the marina.
"Please, don't discuss the rate with your friend" said the dockmaster. I give you good price, but it is between us."
So how do I know if it is a good price or not, I wonder, if I don't find out what other people are spending? But those are the rules.
Julie and I go for a walk along the streets of Amalfi. There is a wedding in the church. The streets are thick with tourists; people are walking, eating, drinking wine and beer, and filing in and out of shops. It is a beautiful evening. The town is colorful and lovely as it rises above us.
Back aboard, Julie cooked delicious pork chops for supper. Afterwards we went out for ice cream. On our way we were met by the dockmaster who had a bottle of red wine for us as part of his apology for raising such a fuss. We still don't know for sure what we will pay, but no doubt we are being buttered up for something. That's Italian! Tomorrow, Pompeii.

Hi from Tapestry, 5/17/06

We woke early this morning in anticipation of our trip to Pompeii. We had been told that the best way to get there was to stop here at Amalfi and take the bus. It would be only 35 kilometers and a beautiful ride along the coast. Then we would take the train to Pompeii.
We were a little late getting started, but we met the Bishops at the station and were off right on time at 8 a.m. The 20 mile bus ride ended up taking two hours, twisting and turning along the narrow coastal road which is suspended high above the water. I have mentioned European bus drivers before, but they again proved to be a special breed. This was absolutely the twistiest road I had ever seen. Our driver decided to pass a dump truck and a motorcycle decided to pass us at the same time. No troubles, we all three managed to fit on the narrow road at the same time with fractions of an inch to spare, and the motorcycle got ahead of us a few feet before an oncoming car would have wiped him out. Once motorcycles passed us on both sides at once. Whew! After the bus, the train was only a 30 minute ride, fast, but mostly through tunnels, straight and fast.
Pompeii was as advertised. It is simply astounding to walk on the roads these people walked at the time of Christ. Buildings are straight and orderly, tasteful and amazingly in tact. Frescoes are colorful, sometimes erotic, and always delightful. Plaster casts of people found in the city are almost recognizable. The graffiti is still on the walls. What a place it is. It certainly overshadowed Ostia Antica, mostly because of its dramatic ending, but there are many more similarities than differences.
We had a good day. With a little less traffic on the way back to Amalfi the 20 mile bus ride took only an hour and a half. All the Best Hank and Julie.

Friday, May 19, 2006

Hi from Tapestry,

Yesterday it was Capri. Julie and I got up early and walked to town, she for her run and me for my walk and pictures. In down town Amalfi there were donkies with metal boxes on their backs walking beside street sweepers and people were busy getting ready for another day. On her run, Julie found the home of Henric Ibsen and the place where the magnetic compass was invented. In town Fresh white linen tablecloths were spread on roadside tables. What a pretty place. We had our coffee/latte and pastry and headed back to the boat for a shower. By 9:30 we were on the ferry to Capri.
Eileen had read that because Capri is so expensive it is cheaper to moor at Amalfi and take a ferry than to take the boat to Capri. As it turned out, the price was about the same. People are often disappointed in Capri because it is so crowded. That is certainly so. There were tour guides giving out tickets to their clients on the pier. Old people were pushing and shoving as if they might not make it on the ferry at all. They didn't seem to be having a very good time.
When we got there we took the "cog railway" up to Capri Town on the top. The railway is actually a cable car. Signs in five languages mentioned that you could purchase either a paper ticket or a card, good for many trips. If you bought the card, there was a deposit required. Of course, the signs were wrong. Paper tickets were not available and the ticket vendor felt it was his duty to argue with everyone who asked for a paper ticket. The line was long and slow. Once we got to the top, however, things improved. We took a narrow street that wound around in front of lovely homes perched on the hillside. The view over the cliffs was spectacular. The island is limestone instead of volcanic and its steep sides are truly awe inspiring. There was a concrete bench beside the road and we had a picnic. Eileen had some cheese and olives. We brought a bottle of wine, some apples and oranges, and we enjoyed an hour or so of peace and quiet in this delightful spot. We were shaded by large pines and cooled by the breeze from the Med. It was very nice.
Later we window shopped and walked on to a natural bridge on the farther side of the island. Finally, we went to a little restaurant for a six dollar Coke. Capri is amazing in its beauty and diversity. One can purchase a 2 euro tee shirt or a 320 euro top in stores that are practically adjacent. Of course all the famous names are represented there. The shops are beautifully decoratred and a joy in themselves. The ferry ride home was less crowded and pleasant in the continuing good weather.
Back in Amalfi we found Annelo, the man who sold us the slip three days before. He was sure the price he had quoted us "in the heat of the moment" was far too low, but as long as we promised not to tell anyone, especially the people on the other boat, he would accept what we had agreed upon. I paid, got a receipt and a hand shake, and this morning at 6 we dropped our lines and motored out of the harbor with the fleet of local fishing boats. We are currently off point Licosa, on the way to Cape Palimuro, where, as far as I know there is nothing of note to do or see. Triumph motors along ahead of us. Winds are about 8 knots, pretty much on the nose, so we continue to power with the main up, hoping for a shift.

All the best, Hank and Julie


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