After our glorious day of relaxing on the beach, we decided to take a day trip to the island of Elba, on the 4th of July. Elba was famously the home of Napoleon Bonaparte while he was exiled there after losing to the combined forces of Austria, Prussia and Russia. Napoleon spent some 100 days in exile on Elba before making his triumphant, albeit brief, return to France. We only spent one day there.
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| Island of Elba |
We drove to a nearby port town and bought a ticket on the ferry to Elba. The clerk said that the ferry would leave at 12:30 sharp. We raced down to the dock. We were there by 12:15. We were also there at 12:30. And 1:00. And 1:15. Turns out that in Italy, 12:30 actually means 1:30. Luckily we all had a big beer to hold us over. As Benjamin Franklin said: “Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.” Benjamin Abbe and Benjamin Molin would probably agree. Benjamins are so smart.
The ferry ride was peaceful. It was slightly overcast, and pleasant to sit up on the deck. The ride took about an hour altogether, and as we approached the island, we got a pretty good feel of it: Sheer cliffs, craggy mountaintops, heavy forests, surf crashing angrily against rocky beaches, and clear water, the color of an aquamarine. By the time the boat docked we were seriously ready to explore Elba. Seriously. You have no idea how serious.
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| We're serious |
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| So are they |
We got a brief lunch at an Oceanside restaurant. By the time we got to Elba it was 2:30, and things were closing. We were lucky to find a place that would let us in, and were happy to sit down. The wait-staff was less enthused by our presence, but we had excellent service none-the-less. Shaffer had excellent fried calamari and shrimps; Amy had spaghetti with clams, mussels, garlic and olive oil. Che Bella!
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| Calamari and Shrimp! |
After lunch our exploring began in earnest. Several attractions dot Elba: Among them two fortresses. Our first stop was the Villa Napoleon: The actual house that Napoleon built while exiled. Funny thing, his captors actually made him King of Elba when they exiled him, so he had a pretty good time here. The house was gorgeous, and the proprietors took great pains to replicate the house as it existed when inhabited by Napoleon himself. It was a fascinating glimpse back in time. Outside was a lovely and expansive garden, and along the railing was a single cannon, aiming down towards the harbor. When we build our house, we are definitely making sure we get a canon. Only to use against the first-year cohort though. Nobody cheats the Claridges at kickball and gets away with it…
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| Napoleon's garden |
We trod the hilly streets of Elba in search of our next attraction. It was quite windy on Elba that day, and Amy chose an adorable, if a bit provocative, dress to wear. As a result she spent most of her day holding onto the hem and trying to keep it from flying up. She had one or two Marilyn Monroe moments that day, but had a lot of fun none the less. We imagine that the locals were having a bit of fun themselves.
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| Amy on a windy day |
Our next stop was a fortress…or so we thought. Built in the 1500s, the fortress asked 2 euro for admission. As you might have read in a previous post, we had earlier viewed a fortress in Cortona and had loved it. This fortress was a little different. Sometime after it had been a fortress, the city had turned it into condominiums: We paid 2 euro a piece to tour a neighborhood. What a brilliantly smart, if unscrupulous, way to raise money for the neighborhood. Somehow we doubt tourists would pay money to tour the Friendly street neighborhood back home, but who knows? If Anna, Whitney and Lorin are selling tickets, there would have to be a few buyers, we’re sure of it. It wasn’t all a waste though: We had some beautiful views of the island, and the sea far below. We stood at the railing, the wind at our backs, and sea salt in our nostrils, and we simply held the moment. (looking at you Christian Jordal).
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| The only part of the fortress that isn't a condo |
After the condo tour we walked around Elba some more. Eileen tried to steal a vespa, and we had to hide from the cops for a while. So we ducked into a local winebar, where locals were playing cards, and the amiable owner served the wine himself. We spent a good hour there, talking, watching the locals, and enjoying the brief respite from the omnipresent tourist culture.
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| Eileen on a vespa. Not her vespa. Somebody else's vespa. |
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| Locals at the wine bar |
We decided to head back to the dock to catch a ferry. It was getting late in the day, and we knew that there were only 2 or 3 more boats that would be heading back home. We saw as one ferry pulled into the harbor when we were still about 30 minutes away. We got to the ticket office, and asked if we could still make it on board that ferry. The clerk looked at the clock, began printing in the tickets, and said in a frantic voice: “Quickly.” We paid her, and ran out the door. Shaffer’s money flew out of his pocket as we ran, and we all had to go back to get it. As we ran down the street, weaving between cars and people, Amy saw the ferry’s ramp start to rise. We started to sprint. Cue the Chariots of Fire music. Luckily the workers saw us, and stopped the ramp, and when we got there they let us know that we didn’t have to run, and they weren’t leaving without us. We were on the ferry for about 10 seconds before we felt the ship start to move, as it pulled away from the harbor. Sometimes things work out.
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| One last look at Elba |
On the way home, we stopped at an American institution: McDonalds. As we said, it was the 4th of July, and we were all longing for a taste of home. We each got a burger (for Shaffer it was a Big Mac) and fries. You didn’t have to get fries: You could substitute them for any number of salads, including a caprese which is a local Italian salad made with tomatoes with Mozzarella cheese sliced on top, and basil. But we got the fries; because we are Americans by God. They came as part of a meal, which also included a drink. Shaffer was about to ask for a coke, when the ever intelligent Amy noticed a beer tap behind the counter. Some inquiry revealed that you could get a beer instead of a soft drink, for no extra charge. I don’t know if we have ever seen Mike Fahlgren that excited before…in his entire life. Big Macs and beer on the 4th of July…God Bless America! Back at Punta Ala, we read the Declaration of Independence on our kindles and went to bed, dreaming of home.
Up Next: Big hikes, geese, frozen food, opulent churches, flirty Austrians, a fat cat, a 500 year old house, and a bottle of wine with a magnificent view: A return to Siena, and Marcialla.
Arrivederci!
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