Trapani, Sicily was a hidden gem.
When we arrived the town was waking up, and I thought, surveying from the stateroom balcony, just another European destination.
Dogs barking and horns beeping, all tell you you are close to a busy port.
Most buildings are lower than the ship, so you can see over the rooftops. We took a tour bus around for half an hour, probably an unneccesary expenditure of 8E each, because the town sits on a narrowing sort of isthmus, between the harbour and the ocean, a space you can cross on foot in about 15 minutes. The bus tour was entertaining in that the Aussies all made continous references to the mafia and the godfather, and the Yanks just compained about the smell and the getting the right photos from the roof of the bus.
While walking around you note that the buildings haven't changed much since the town was started, narrow lanes are flanked by two and three storey town houses. Tacked on are little balconies with wrought iron balustrades and flowers in boxes hanging from them. People lower down baskets to the bread delivery man from the balcony, money out, bread in.
The laneways are alive with people, mostly from the cruise ship, and the cafe owners must love and hate it at the same time. Lots of business, but lots of language challenges and always the unhappy Yanks.
Every now and then you look down a narrow alley and see the Ship, high above the roofline, The Noordam letters and big blue hull broadcasts down the lane. Not much doubt who's here for the locals.
We eventually found a cafe with 'free' internet tucked away in a little lane, and caught up with blog and emails. Not free, really, in exchange for a few bevvies and a delicious penne pasta dish, but I got an hour to do that, and to look for last minute bargains, in our hunt for 'what to do or where to go next'. You can't stay much longer than that, the Cafe chairs are deliberately uncomfortable. The next ten days after the cruise is largely unplanned, we have left it open in the hope that we can stay on the ship for the east med leg. It's not looking good, we are on the waitlist, but may remain so.
Nighttime
But Sheryl left Trapani very happy, she has sent a post card from Sicily to Kerry, Garry and his Dad, a little reminder of the old country for Tony.
Tonight I awoke thirsty from the alcohol and sugar I had consumed during the evening.
I stepped out onto the stateroom balcony, and it's not the first time I have, in the middle of the night.
The ship has its own glow, the deck lights play down onto the water and watching the foam spill away from the hull can be relaxing. I kind of wish that we could steam without lights because a know the night sky would be so much better.
The arc of the Milky Way stretches from the west horizon to east horizon at this time of night, and it's familiar, yet not, at the same time. It's so bright that you can see some of the structure, its not just a glowing band, but has dark and light patches.
Some low cloud approaches from the direction of our heading, the ship's lights reflect back down to me from their undersurface. These nights have been fortunate, in a way, we are just in the moon's last quarter so it rises late, and apart from the low cloud, the sky is dark.
After your eyes adjust, the stars get brighter against the contrasting dark, Jupiter stands bright and dominant overhead, the other stars and constellations are unknown to me. I do a quick sortie to the east side of the ship, and there they are, Plaedies (The seven sisters), Taurus and Orion, usually visible on the sky from home and now still able to be seen because they lie close to the band of the Milky Way, and the plane of the ecliptic.
Being very much a southern constellation, the Southern Cross is not visible. It will be months before I see it again. But I have seen at least a dozen shooting stars in the short time spent watching the sky at night.
Either because of the ships velocity, or our heading against the running sea, the foam from the bow is a continuous surfable wave, the first time I have seen it. I sort of fantasise about getting up on an old plank and cutting along as I watch it in the glow of the deck lights.
We are headed north west up the coast of Italy, yet there's a glow on the horizon to the west of us, I am trying to imagine what it might be. A city, or more than one?
The ship is very quiet at the moment and almost locked down. The catering deck, although open, has nothing running, you can't even get a drink of water.
Staff work through the night, of course there are the ship's watches; teams of people who maintain the running vessel, but the other staff vacuum the carpet floors and hose down the decks and the outside windows. It's 4 am and people are cleaning!
The horizon has light dots and clusters, tell-tales of navigation aids and other ships. You can tell the cruise liners with their lights stacked high, the container ships have a single horizontal line of lights on one deck only, they all pass by with no acknowledgement. No doubt there's some radio exchanges on the bridge.
TV noises come from the room next door, they've fallen asleep with a movie going.
My eyes are sticky, I should try to get back to sleep.
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