Hermione Does Italy.

Once we had crossed the sea border nothing appeared to change. That was until we landed at Marina Degli Aregai, just past Sanremo. All the writing, all the language was completely incomprehensible. Not like France where you could pick out a word or two.

We could be in trouble?

 No it's okay they all speak English. Fantastic!

So what differences? Well their emergency vehicle sirens, far from the nice serene French eee-aaaw sound, came as a shock. Somewhere between a hoarse yodeler and an excited ice cream van with a hint of Tarzan. Very much in regular use too.

Far be it from me to judge how peoples use their language but the humble peanut seems to give us a clue. In French they are called Caccahuetes and with a little work can be pronounced 'Caccahoots.' 

But the Italians? They call them  Arachidi Tostate which sounds like some kind of spider on steroids. How can we all be so different?

Hermy with her boarding plank out. Rescued / stolen from a skip by granddad and honed in to a very prestigious boarding plank with the help of Mr Edwards and son and grandson.

Aregai is a nice little seaside village. We cycled in to take a look around and have a beer and, very much to our liking, beer was served with a plate full of food.

Next morning it was a bus to Sanremo which was a bit of an experience. The very nice lady at the marina office said the bus stop was just up the hill on the main road. Well there was a main road with no pavement and no bus stop. So after a short marital squabble about which direction to walk,  I asserted myself and and made Mrs K walk about a kilometre and a half in the blistering heat without water we found a small, free standing, sign with a picture of a bus on it and I stood by it proudly.

Could this be it. An old guy came out of a garage and looked at me staring at the bus stop and just said "Sanremo" with that feint unsaid hint of 'dumb ass!' 

Thirty minutes later a bus arrived and on we got. It's amazing what can be said with no comment at all!

No problem err except there was a barrier between us and the seats leaving us in the entrance footwell. You had to feed coins in to a machine to get a ticket and get past the barrier. However it didn't like twenties. 

The driver just carried on leaving us bouncing around in the footwell trying to feed an obstinate machine with a bus load of onlookers. I thought this might lead to a pointed exchange between the driver and Mrs K but she may have had someone else in her sights? Finally we were on our way. 

Sanremo is very quaint with lovely narrow streets and a hint of scruffyness that makes charming. 

Nice lunch and an ice cream on the way back to the bus station. Everyone you see is eating ice cream. Oh and everyone has a dog or a child or both. On our return journey we decided to stay on the bus to see if we could spot where we should have got on. The bus duly stopped exactly where we had looked next to a post with an advert for a burger on it. Sort of where Mrs K had been indicating but we didn't dwell on that!

Next stop Loano, a bigger marina clearly geared up for the rich rather than the Southerly 115 owner. 

Still a pleasant little spot where, after sliding straight in to my berth, once we had made contact with the staff, I spent a happy five minutes watching a yacht, after two aborted attempts, enter her berth sideways. I was just happy not to be alone. 

Loano is again slightly scruffy with a pleasantly long and shaded shopping street behind the front. After ambling along it we decided to wander back to look at the shops on the front only to find that they were the same shops but with entrances on both streets. A bit of a swizz in my book.

Hurrying along our next stop was Savona. You see we have to be in Pisa to meet crew.

Savona was a bit of a gem. It has medieval things all over the place particularly a lovely Genoese castle.

Built not to protect the town but to suppress it. Apparently the Savonese still haven't forgiven the Genoese for this, so the harbour master told us. Best not mention we stopped here when we get to Genoa. 

Drawing a similarity with the French of course the castle museum was closed because it was Thursday!

The Cathedral Di Nostra Signora Assunta was one of the more ornate cathedrals we have popped in to and by now that is quite a few. 

We kept seeing signs for the Sistene Chappel which was confusing me as my limited knowledge lead me to believe that this should be in Rome or at least Florence. We eventually found out that there are in fact two, one in Savona and one in Rome. The Savona one is a 'must see' attraction but not on a bloody weekday as it only opens Saturday and Sunday!

To save forty Euros in mooring fees we decide to anchor off a small beach just outside Savona the night before our sail to Genoa.

No one else over-nighting? We remained alone overnight having a slightly uncomfortable rock but nothing too bad. The next morning was cooler but with only a slight swell as we set off to cover the twenty odd miles to Genoa. All was well for the first 14 miles but we noticed the wave height was rising as was the wind speed from dead ahead. "It'll be fine it should die down soon. The forecast said gusts of up to 9 miles an hour and wave heights of up to half a metre."

Well the worst conditions we have experienced in the Med. Life jackets out, Hermy crashing through short two metre waves, spray everywhere, CDs all over the place. Main sheet  parted, anchor banging about. Mrs K not to happy with forecasters, (Or those reading the forecast!)

I have referred myself to the Independent Husbands Complaints Commission.

We got in to Genoa safely. All's well that ends well?

Genoa old harbour safe and sound!