On the Ferry to “the continent” as the Sicilians Say

Messina, 5 AM

We dragged out of bed with under four hours sleep, packed, and headed out to find the ferry Villa San Giovanni.  Wisely (so I thought) I booked the 8:20 train to Salerno, but didn’t expect we’d go to Catania and back the night before! The plan was to get to bed early.  That just did not happen.

Ellen suggested (wisely) that there might be taxis at the bus terminus.  We were intimately familiar with that building, and it was only three blocks away.  At the terminus we found a taxi who was very accommodating, knew where the ferry departs, and would take us there.  Here I made a crucial mistake.  I failed to ask, “quanto costa”.  Establish a price or you are doomed.  We were doomed.  First off this fine specimen of humanity became tour guide.  Over here is the Duomo.  “But we want to go to the Ferry”.   “Yes, but you have time, let me  show you the palace”.  “No, we want to go to the ferry”,  “And over here we have…”  “Ma, No! Adesso. Take us to the ferry”  Eventually he complied.  My 2nd mistake, pulling a wad of 20’s and 50’s from my pocket with this shark standing at my shoulder.  Brazenly, he pulled first one 20, then a 2nd, then a 3rd from the wad while I stood there dumbfounded.  I just could not believe this was happening and couldn’t speak.  When he went for a 50 I stopped him.  He left with far too much for that fare.  Worse, he got away with it will feel more confident with the next sap who comes along.  LESSON LEARNED!

Villa San Giovanni Train Station, Platform #3

Sometimes timing is everything.  We got tickets and walked right onto the ferry.  It departed immediately.  “And over here…” We could have missed this ferry and had to sit for an hour. I am still steaming over the taxi “ride”,   Ellen had a few choice words for me over it too.

Twenty minutes later my Italian smart/dumb phone guided us to the train station along with a few “Dov’e il stazione ferroviaria” and “Dritto e a destra”.  At the biglietteria I asked “a che ora e li treno per Salerno”  “alle otto venti”, but he spoke so fast I only heard “8”.  Then he offered “platform 3” with a quizzical look.  We turned toward the platforms, then II thought I’d better see if the ticket I printed from the web is actually a ticket and not a voucher.  I handed the tickets to the attendant and he nodded, “Si, questi sono I biglietti”.

On the Train to Salerno

Next, let’s find an espresso.  We found a very seedy bar with an espresso maker and a tall bearded tattooed fellow with a stud earring in his left ear.  I ordered cappuccino for Ellen and my macchiato doppio.  “Where are you from?” and that started an on again off again conversation with Frankie (Francesco, but I called him Frankie) about travel, family, where is good to live, there’s noting happening in Italy (if by Italy he meant Villa San Giovanni, he’s probably correct).  Time flew by. customers came and went, and still we chatted with Francesco.

As 8:15 approached, we left Frankie for platform 3 and our train to Salerno.  I texted our landlord, Luigi, that we were on the train from Messina and would arrive in about three hours.  I did not hear back from Luigi in those three hours.

Italian trains, particularly the non-local ones, are very  comfortable.  Not the seats so much, but the train and the tracks.  There is very little screeching and no side to side wobble that you get on English trains in particular.  We could doze off from time to time.

Arriving Salerno, I called Luigi.  He picked up and after a Buongiorno or two asked, “where are you”  “We’re at the train station”.  I’ll come right over.  I’ll be driving a green Mercedes. “   “Ellen is a short blond woman wearing a blue jacket.  We’ll be waiting across from the station”  A short wait later, a quintessentially dressed professor walked up asking “Ron?”.  He wore a shirt and tie under a sweater with a brown/gray jacket to top it off.  He grabbed our bags and ushered us off to his car where he introduced his stunning wife and their son, who speaks English.  Luigi’s English is fine for communicating, far better than my broken Italian.

Luigi, Renaissance Man Extraordinaire

Luigi and family took us on a brief tour of Salerno.  Then he and his son accompanied us to Santa Maria Dei Barbuti.  Along the way, he gave us a history lesson in Salerno’s past and the Longobardi who ruled Salerno and were so named for their long beards.  The apartment is in a converted Church; very interesting architecturally.  Luigi has been selectively removing plaster to expose the old original stone walls.   With its half meter thick walls, the apartment was cold, though there was adequate heat.  We spend most or our time out anyway.  The bed was firm, comfortable. 

The apartment was exactly as shown in the photos, perfect.

 

First up, some lunch.  After, we’d find the ferry to Capri.  With only one evening in Salerno, we wanted to know ahead of time where we’d catch the ferry.  Luigi has recommended a number of restaurants,  we went to a pizza place he suggested.  I thought the pizza was a bit under cooked.  The crust was not firm, but the beer was good!

We walked down the waterfront promenade, past a carnival like amusement park, and asked a parking attendant where we’d find the Capri Ferry.  “lungo diritta, molto (sounded like Mollo)”, back to from where we had come.   We opted to go back to the apartment now and find the ferry tomorrow morning.

Back at the apartment we turned the heat on and relaxed some before heading out for dinner.

A View to the Marina

My schizo Samsung phone showed Luigi’s favorite restaurant close to where the ferry should be.  I say schizo because I cannot figure out how this thing works.  It often appears inconsistent. 

Apparently the Amalfi Coast ferries leave from the south end of Salerno and the Capri ferry leaves from the north.  We can have dinner then check out the ferry schedule. Great.  With little sleep last night and after walking most of the day, we were looking forward to a good dinner and some sleep.  We found the restaurant windows dark, not a light on in the place. It was closed!  Strike one. 

A bit further on and we found that the ferry terminal with its lights on!  It too was closed. No schedule for any ferry was posted outside.  Strike two.

The Old and the New

the new could easily be older than most US buildings

No problem, we’ll just walk around and find a nice place for dinner.  We walked and walked, no we did not want pizza, nor hamburgers (?!?), nor the pizza place overlooking the duomo. We found bars and cafes open, but very few ristoranti or osterias open.  Those that were open did not appeal.  We walked and walked some more. We were getting cranky, not to the point of homicide; not yet. 

By now it was approaching 10:30. On one of the main streets Pinocchio was open.  We had an oscillating moment of uncertainty Ellen wanted to eat there, I didn’t, then I said OK and Ellen didn’t want to.  We eventually were seated.  Ten minutes later we had menus in hand, slow even by Italian standards.  The menu was typical of U.S. Formica tabled nondescript eateries.  Each page, encased in well worn plastic,  showed a series of photos, each with a description of a dish. “Strike Three”, I thought.  Ellen found a cheese plate she wanted.  I saw vongole (clams).  Wow, clams here?  OK.  As we ordered I noticed for the first time the human sized statue of Pinocchio against the wall.  Not an inspiring site if it’s a good meal you want.

A Sure Sign of Quality?

I was not at all encouraged by the décor, the couples behind us smoking, the rock playing conspicuously, nor our waitress’ interest in serving food.  The outlook was bleak.  We expect we may find a “best meal of all time” on this trip.  We’ve also been looking for a “worst meal of the trip”.  I thought Pinocchio’s would be a contender.  I was wrong!  The plate brimming with baby clams was perfectly seasoned and came with dipping bread.  The cheese selection was good and bruschetta with very fresh tomatoes was excellent.  After dinner we had their home made tiramisu and complimentary Limoncello that had quite a kick.  Despite the restaurant’s ambiance, which I think was catering to a young crowd,  this was an excellent meal.

The Vongole Disappeared FAST!

It was 19 hours from the time we awoke to catch the Messina to Villa San Giovanni ferry to lights out in Salerno.  We were exhausted.