Day Five - Marina di Campo to Marciana Marina
Important to note that all these places called 'Marina' are not marinas as in places to keep boats - it is the equivalent of 'on sea' in Italy! Some of them have marinas - but not necessarily. All clear?
Today is our 32nd wedding anniversary - so well done us. Because of the time of year, we have been away for a few anniversaries - but this has to be one of the best locations we can remember. It is an added bonus to be in the company of my oldest friend Peter and his lovely wife Lizzie. We have such a laugh together.
After a final coffee in M di C (at which we goofed by not realising that in Italy Latte is just hot milk - no cofffee!) we unhooked our electric cable, patronised the shower hut and departed. We set sail as soon as we were beyond the breakwater and headed for a small cove with a beach called Fetovaia. This is last place to stop on the South coast of the Island if you are going clockwise. Rod promised restaurants and bars - and that was good enough for us. We anchored just inside the exclusion zone - marked by white buoys with fierce notices in all languages - verboten etc. On our first attempt we drifted back slightly inside the zone - so we did it again for fear of being torpedoed. You are that much more concerned about crossing the officials when you know you are not going to understand what they say. Most places have an angry man in a fast rib (generically named Billy Bollock, as this is what they do) who is quick to apply the throttle if he spots a transgressor or, if stationed on the quay side in a BB hut, wave his arms to send you back where you came from.
Having complied with the exclusion zone we felt more relaxed and set about piloting the egg box towards the refreshment. Peter decided to swim, so we only needed one run. We extracted the dinghy at the slipway and took the cliff path towards the beach and soon came to a bar/cafe perched on the hillside with a fabulous view of the bay. It was a bit cheap and cheerful (plastic cuttlery - oh dear) but very welcome none the less. Here we are on the cliff path heading back to the slipway.
We set off once again - motoring for a bit as the wind often seems to drop away around lunch time. However it suddenly reppareared on our stern and we had a good sail around the end of the Island on just mainsail, as the jib seemed unhappy on either side and no-one likes a flapping jib. Once around the western end and heading along the north coast, the wind died down and veered onto our nose - so we motored the last bit to Marciana.
On arrival, a gaggle of BBs were on the pontoon to repel all boarders. It seems you have to book in advance at these places - but we have not worked out the protocol. There is no App on the Apple Store - that much we know. So it meant another night at anchor. The upside of this is we do not have to pay them and we do not have other boats jammed right next to us with their kids, dogs and questionable taste in music. This is such a beautiful place.
We anchored as close in as we could, to limit the length of the dinghy relays, and headed into town. We soon spotted the best restaurant on the waterfront - with its own stairs down into the water. However, every table had 'reserved' on it. Remembering that most visitors are German, I think this is the maritime version of towels on sunloungers. Peter had a word with the lady and told her about the anniversary - and her eyes lit up in anticipation of champagne sales; a spare table miraculously appeared. We did not disappoint her on the Bolly front - and it was an excellent meal. I ordered octopus with some trepidation - but it was delicious and not at all chewy. Clams in Mohito was also a triumph in my book. Another fabulous day - we all agreed that we would happily come again and the BBs can wave us away all they like - we're British and we will never surrender!
Today is our 32nd wedding anniversary - so well done us. Because of the time of year, we have been away for a few anniversaries - but this has to be one of the best locations we can remember. It is an added bonus to be in the company of my oldest friend Peter and his lovely wife Lizzie. We have such a laugh together.
After a final coffee in M di C (at which we goofed by not realising that in Italy Latte is just hot milk - no cofffee!) we unhooked our electric cable, patronised the shower hut and departed. We set sail as soon as we were beyond the breakwater and headed for a small cove with a beach called Fetovaia. This is last place to stop on the South coast of the Island if you are going clockwise. Rod promised restaurants and bars - and that was good enough for us. We anchored just inside the exclusion zone - marked by white buoys with fierce notices in all languages - verboten etc. On our first attempt we drifted back slightly inside the zone - so we did it again for fear of being torpedoed. You are that much more concerned about crossing the officials when you know you are not going to understand what they say. Most places have an angry man in a fast rib (generically named Billy Bollock, as this is what they do) who is quick to apply the throttle if he spots a transgressor or, if stationed on the quay side in a BB hut, wave his arms to send you back where you came from.
Having complied with the exclusion zone we felt more relaxed and set about piloting the egg box towards the refreshment. Peter decided to swim, so we only needed one run. We extracted the dinghy at the slipway and took the cliff path towards the beach and soon came to a bar/cafe perched on the hillside with a fabulous view of the bay. It was a bit cheap and cheerful (plastic cuttlery - oh dear) but very welcome none the less. Here we are on the cliff path heading back to the slipway.
We set off once again - motoring for a bit as the wind often seems to drop away around lunch time. However it suddenly reppareared on our stern and we had a good sail around the end of the Island on just mainsail, as the jib seemed unhappy on either side and no-one likes a flapping jib. Once around the western end and heading along the north coast, the wind died down and veered onto our nose - so we motored the last bit to Marciana.
On arrival, a gaggle of BBs were on the pontoon to repel all boarders. It seems you have to book in advance at these places - but we have not worked out the protocol. There is no App on the Apple Store - that much we know. So it meant another night at anchor. The upside of this is we do not have to pay them and we do not have other boats jammed right next to us with their kids, dogs and questionable taste in music. This is such a beautiful place.
We anchored as close in as we could, to limit the length of the dinghy relays, and headed into town. We soon spotted the best restaurant on the waterfront - with its own stairs down into the water. However, every table had 'reserved' on it. Remembering that most visitors are German, I think this is the maritime version of towels on sunloungers. Peter had a word with the lady and told her about the anniversary - and her eyes lit up in anticipation of champagne sales; a spare table miraculously appeared. We did not disappoint her on the Bolly front - and it was an excellent meal. I ordered octopus with some trepidation - but it was delicious and not at all chewy. Clams in Mohito was also a triumph in my book. Another fabulous day - we all agreed that we would happily come again and the BBs can wave us away all they like - we're British and we will never surrender!
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