Day 47

Day 47. Sunday 16th May.

Awoke to the sound of booming from the bay. Hoping it wasn’t a long overdue eruption we quickly decamped for our southbound trek.
Originally intending to break overnight, the appalling rain and early start prompted us to continue on to the ferries for Sicily.
There is something profoundly unsatisfying about landscape seen from a car. Spectacular though it may be, and certainly was, it’s a fleeting appreciation, like eating candyfloss, and leaves you wanting more.
The coastal motorway in Calabria is scarily spectacular with thousands of feet between you and the coastline below and only a flimsy looking strip of metal, (and your own ability to steer of course), between you and oblivion.
It didn’t help we were listening to Ian Banks “The wasp factory” on the way. A gripping but highly disturbing novel we were well and truly weirded out by the end of our 600k drive. Originally relived by our arrival at the ferry terminal in Regio Calabria its only as we got closer we realized it was deserted.
No Sunday sailings and the nearest campsite another 60k away. I’m not one to point a finger (as you know) but suffice to say the person who researched the ferries online (Lets leave it that his initials were ANDREW DOUGLAS) had taken only a cursory glance at the details. I accept we all make mistakes and mine was choosing him as a partner in the fist place.
Count to ten, ungrip teeth.
Set off to find a closer campsite than the one in the guide. After about 15 k spotted an elaborate sign for Camping Greccia Magna, 2 k distant, 1.5k distant. 1k distant till we were there. A brightly painted large square with the flags of many nations fluttering bravely in the stiffening breeze. Well the flags were out but there was no one home.
Tumbleweed blew across piazza as Andy leapt from the car. To avoid impending murder and search for signs of life.
He managed to locate a sleeping caretaker who opened the electronic gate and bid us welcome.
It was utterly tatty and deserted with rows of beaten up old wangs. A camping graveyard, In the middle of nowhere and no one knows were here. What could possibly go wrong?
Well in the event nothing. Walked molly by the sea who swam and chased lots of stray cats. Fell into bed exhausted and left early the next morning for the Ferry.