Wandering around the famous Costiera Amalfitana
Wandering around the famous Costiera Amalfitana
Trip in Corsica
Trip in Corsica
Wandering around the famous Costiera Amalfitana
Wandering around the famous Costiera Amalfitana
Trip in Corsica
Trip in Corsica
By Thomas P.

Even though the sun had not even rised we were ready to depart. We’ve been waiting for this time for many months since we were planning this trip during winter and our daily conversations were only about the preparation.

Despite the bitter cold of winter, our thoughts traveled on blue wheels. It was as if we lived only waiting for the time to come when we would enjoy our coffee sitting in the inflatable balloons, a few minutes before we set off for our long journey, the whole of which, from its preparation to its realization, is concentrated in in these moments... This is where all its magic is hidden, just before the engine starts to "purr, a few minutes before setting sail...
The pleasure of these moments is so sweet that it leaves no room for anxieties and insecurities, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. It is enough to taste it once, to feel the breath of the open sea and the joy of travel, and it is certain that for the rest of your life your thoughts and your way of not being more and more there: in the dreamy vastness. light blue. And then, it is impossible that you will ever be able to adapt to your "terrestrial" microcosm. Your soul will be permanently out there, in foaming waves and leeward calm rushes, in enchanting sailings and unforgettable sunsets.

We untied the cleats and I pushed hard on the quay so that the sides of the boat were removed. I put the throttle in the "forward" position and slowly pulled out of the marina hatch, wiping the instruments from the morning moisture. Before the inflatable floated well, our gaze began to scan everything around, as if it wanted to keep as many images as possible, made of the color and warmth of our homeland, just before the land began to disappear at our stern.

We started from the bay of Plataria and were separated by 11 nautical miles to the southern cape of Corfu, from where we would set course for Crotona in Italy. We were going at a slow speed and making a final inspection of the boat, when I found myself unusually comfortable and relaxed for so long a voyage. As I had made long crossings several times before, and for the fourth time my bow would mark the eastern coast of Italy setting a course for the western Mediterranean, I considered this voyage particularly easy.

For the first time I felt so familiar, which of course is not necessarily a bad thing, but I didn't like it, because - quite simply - no trip, big or small, is an easy task. Perhaps it was because I knew the opposite shores well, knew the safest courses and how to avoid bad places, knew the sheltered bays, marinas, and supply points, that I had acquired a strange familiarity, so much so that I felt no great difference from I was traveling somewhere in the Aegean.
In no way, however, did I want this comfort to lead me astray, with the risk of being led into negligence that I might "pay for" in case something went wrong. The sea may have captivated me, but I knew very well that I should always look at it with "half" an eye. Thus, I began to focus my attention primarily on the journey and secondly on the images that the sea once again gave me.

With a bow to Croton

We arrived under the southern cape of Corfu and I charted my course on the GPS, setting the destination for Kroton, which is located near the southern cape of the Gulf of Taranto. Course 260 degrees and 145 nautical miles of open sea. The same course, of course, was also pre-plotted on the laminated nautical chart I fitted to the Shearwater's cabin door, on which I had noted all the details of our course, as well as alternate courses and ports, in case something went wrong.

When I was still planning this trip I had set a direct course for Cape Spartivedo, the most south-eastern tip of Italy, a distance of 220 nautical miles. However, for reasons of safety, I had changed our course and set Crotonas as the first stop, which is further north and much closer.

Thus the long passage was reduced by 75 miles, and our only charge was 20 miles more to Cape Spartivedo (i.e., instead of going 220 miles of open sea, direct to Spartivedo, we would go 145 miles of open sea to Crotona and still have 95 miles to the Cape).

In total, that is, we would travel 240 nautical miles, of which 95 would concern a coastal and safer navigation.

This time, you see, the big challenge of directly crossing a long passage was clearly limited, since it was something that had been done several times before. When our emotions conspired together to submit to the dictates of an unrestrained - many times - enthusiasm, which set aside any resistance of our logic, but always at the expense of our safety.
Fortunately, this time things were different. Logic had a clear lead and the last word in our final decision, since we have tasted such challenges several times in the past.

I was staring at the GPS and the compass as I wanted to double check that their readings matched. So I found again, that the compass had a small deviation, of the order of three degrees. Negligible for a short trip, but huge when you have many miles of open sea ahead of you. This small deviation of the compass - if for some reason the GPS stops working - can throw you many miles away from your destination. And if your destination is an island, it is very easy to pass it without realizing it. And then, as time passes and no land appears on the horizon, the anxiety peaks, as it is very difficult to orientate and redefine your position in order to take a new course, while the danger of running out of reserves of composure and fuel becomes visible .

Knowing exactly the deviation of my compass, I was sure that - even without the help of GPS - I would reach my destination. Only a small correction of my course, corresponding to that of the deviation of the compass, would suffice.

I took out the ship's logbook and placed it on the console. From now on he would be our only companion, whom we would update every hour. I noted the time of departure and our mark. Then I bent down, held out my palm, and gave the inflatable float a friendly tap. It was as if I was encouraging him, even though I knew very well that I was actually encouraging myself.

I took a quick look at my stern and my gaze was briefly fixed on the engine. I could almost hear him "purring" and the sound of it gave me a feeling of confidence and self-assurance. As if he was telling me that he was ready for our first long passage.

Deck's Log

And the journey begins. The bow rises for a while, until it finds its place on the horizon and enters our marked course. The inflatable has 560 liters of fuel and is so heavily loaded with various things that it can't even fit a pin more. The sea is good, but not the one we are used to on the peaceful Ionian mornings. So despite the forecasts that did not give more than 3 Beaufort, I am quite worried.

08:40 We have already booked an hour of travel and our bearing is N 39° 18' 64 E 19° 40' 76.
We are traveling at 25 knots at 4,250 rpm, consuming 41 liters per hour and still have 122 miles to Croton. At these turns our speed and consumption (1.64 liters per nautical mile) are at very satisfactory levels, if we consider that the inflatable is overweight. We have a muted swell coming in from the southwest and finding us on our left mask.

Of course, I don't like the mute wave or its direction, which is unusual for these parts in the month of August. I still doubt the weather forecast, which we have cross-checked through several weather sites.

09:40 After two hours of travel our position is N 39° 17' 13 E 19° 17' 05.
Our speed has slowed considerably and we are now cruising at 20 to 22 knots. The engine revs between 3,700 and 4,100, and our consumption is at 40 liters per hour on average. We still have 103 miles of open sea to go and the only person responsible for those numbers is a tousled, clean garbi that keeps getting fresh. I am in standby mode, without being able to do anything more.

10:40 We booked three hours of travel and things don't seem to be going as planned. Our bearing is only N 39° 16' 59 E 18° 55' 30, and we still have 87 nautical miles to go.
Our speed has decreased even more and the speedometer is now playing between 15 and 17 knots. The engine revolutions vary between 3,700 and 4,000, with consumption between 35 and 45 liters per hour. The garbi now fives, but what torments us the most is the large volume of wave that hits irregularly and without any periodicity on our left mask. Consumption increased, our speed dropped noticeably and while according to our calculations we should have already covered 75 nautical miles, the sea once again defies the forecasts, both ours and the weather stations. We've covered just 58 miles in three hours and our destination is still a long way off.

11:40 Our position is N 39° 20' 05 E 18° 35' 60.
With difficulty we can keep our speed at the previous levels, since now the garb is rising normally and we hardly gain every mile. We are even forced to deviate further north from our marked course, so as to strain the boat less, but also ourselves. In the fourth hour of our journey we have covered only 13 nautical miles and we still have 74 to go. That is, we are about halfway through our total journey. Of course, our desire and initial intention to reach Krotons in six hours has gone awry.

We try to ride the inflatable as flat as possible so we don't get tired, since the road is long. We change helms every hour and our spirits are at the same high levels as when we started. In the back of my mind, however, I begin to consider the alternative routes that I already had ready from the trip preparation. If things get worse I will turn my bow to 335°, towards the "heel" of the Italian boot where Santa Maria di Leuca is located, from which we are only 29 miles away.

We will be able to reach there very quickly and easily, since we will put the weather second. This in itself fills me with optimism and gives me more courage to continue on my path.

12:40 Our position is N 39° 21' 14 E 18° 35' 17.
The situation has not changed at all, and the sea fortunately has not exceeded 6 Beaufort. It forces us, however, to climb further, in terms of our latitude, so that we can travel more painlessly. We have covered another 12 nautical miles and the clock is starting to count down.

13:40 Our position is N 39° 07'03 E 17° 52' 95.
The weather starts to drop noticeably so we start to descend and rejoin our original course. Our speed settled at 23 knots, engine rpm at 4,000 and consumption at 37 liters per hour. We still have 38 miles to go and everything seems to be going well.

14:40 Our position is N 39° 09' 68 E 17° 33' 96.
Only 20 nautical miles separate us from our destination and the sea has calmed down enough, but it continues to play strange tricks on us. Huge but calm silent waves come from the southwest, and "digest" in waves of the same height coming from the northeast. The garby has become entangled with the heron, which comes from the nearby lands. It's like we're traveling in a huge mess, which doesn't even know where it wants to go. We tried and caught 27 knots but we can't settle on that speed as the restia is completely alien. At this speed, however, the tachometer shows 4,250 revolutions and consumption is stuck at 42 liters per hour.

15:40 We enter the port of Krotons quite tired, but in a very good mood, where unfortunately the gas station is closed. The heat is unbearable and we don't want to stay in port, but the next supply point is in Reggio (at 120 nautical miles) and after eight hours of rough sailing we have no intention of traveling that many more miles. After all, neither our fuel is enough nor our time. The most important thing is to find a place to have a few moments of rest.

Five nautical miles below Crotona is Capo Colonne, so named because next to the lighthouse of the cave there is a unique ancient Greek column. It is all that remains of the temple of Hera, which was built during the time of Great Greece. We stopped for a while for the necessary photos and headed towards the cove, where there is a beautiful coast that is well embraced by the weather. We cheered up, took a tonic bath and prepared something quick to eat. Fatigue soon set in and before we knew it we found ourselves lying on the sofas sleeping for more than an hour.
We were now feeling much better and started to descend, calculating our fuel at the same time. We wanted to gain some miles and hoped to reach Rocella Ionica, whose marina is ideal for an overnight stay. I knew there was no refueling facility there but I hoped they had done something about it.
The distance was about 60 miles and the time was 19:10. The sea had completely fallen and we quickly covered the 9 miles that separated us from Capo Rizzuto, the northern end of Squillace Bay. As soon as we reached the cape, however, the sea suddenly changed its appearance. It was as if there was a dividing line along the bay, where on one side the sea was calm and on the other particularly rough. Believing that after the cable car things will be better, we continued on our way. But from the very first waves it seemed that it would not be very easy after all...
The waves were very high, they came very close together, and they packed a lot of energy in their waves. Only with open slopes could we travel, and again not so pleasantly. We crossed the gulf and were entering the bay of Squillace, but the sea was showing us the same angry face. We looked at each other for a while and we all had the same thought. No one was in the mood to arrive wet and late at night at Rocella Ionica. So we preferred to return to Rizzuto promontory, on the northern side of which there is a cove that promised us a beautiful and quiet evening.

Second day

Sunday dawned and we wished a good month, since it was August 1st. We drank our morning coffee, fixed the inflatable and set out on the second day of our journey, with the intention of reaching Tropea, which is on the west coast of Calabria, 30 miles north of the Straits of Messina. After all, this was also our first scheduled stop, and we had a total of about 145 nautical miles to cover.

The sea in the bay of Squillace had calmed, and so we quickly reached Rocella Ionica, after 47 miles of pleasant sailing. Six years ago I visited her for the last time, but I still found her just as wonderful. The only difference was that it was now full of boats, since it is now a key station for those heading from the Tyrrhenian Sea to Greece and the Adriatic. Of course, this gave us hope that there would be fuel in the marina. We moored on one of the floating platforms and went out for a coffee at the little cafe in the marina. After our conversation with the Capitaneria people we found that there is no fuel. It is certain that something is hidden behind this absence of pumps in the marina, it is enough to consider that even in the worst marina in Italy there is fuel in the dock. The worst, however, was that on Sundays no one transports fuel to the marina. We made a few phone calls and luckily found a taxi driver who had his own jerry cans to service some boats in the marina. So Giovanni, a tall and kind taxi driver, first took us to his house to get his tanks and then we rushed to the gas station and filled them with 90 liters of gas. These were enough to get us to Reggio, where we would fill our tanks.
After 30 miles we crested Capo Spartivento and were now traveling along the southern coast of Calabria. Of course, my memories ran back to 2004, when, carrying the Olympic Flag to Gibraltar, we received a very emotional welcome from the Greek-speaking people of Calabria. And now I was passing right outside the beach house where we were staying, right behind the Spartivedo lighthouse. The image of the local boats flying the Italian and Greek flags, coming to welcome us to the waters of Bova Marina came vividly to my mind. Although we should have stopped we didn't and, mentally greeting my good friends, we continued on our way.

Passing the Strait of Messina

The sea had become oily and directly above our bow was dominated by the peak of the legendary Etna. We were traveling a short distance from the southern coast of Calabria, but our gaze was fixed on the volcano of Sicily, and as our bow began to turn slowly northward, the Straits of Messina (otherwise, the mythical... Scylla and Charybdis) reserved for us his own, as always, special welcome...
Entering the southern entrance of the strait of Scylla and Charybdis, the sea had its "moors". The oil suddenly disappeared and an incredible nor'easter was coming down furiously from the mountains of Sicily. It was the fifth time I would cross the strait and this time I was meeting a completely different person. Every time I went through it, it was August, and every time I faced something new. The strait has its own rules that do not account for barometrics and high pressures, so we prepared to "dance" to its rhythm...

The sea was white and torrential, and found us like a desolate beast at sea. It came from the northwest, with a wave height that often exceeded two meters. It had such tension that at low speed it did not travel, while some large and unruly waves filled me with doubt, momentarily hesitating to push the lever. Little by little I began to tune in to her pace and "read" her cues, while adjusting lift and trim, slowly increasing the boat's speed.

Once I picked up the pace and felt confident, fully confident in the Shearwater's capabilities, the lever was pinned forward without any hesitation.

It was the watershed that would now set the terms of the game and set its own pace. I, for my part, adapted it to the specific conditions.
With the wind blowing furiously, I revved the engine, so that the leg stuck to the mirror. I adjusted the lift to its lowest positions, so that in relation to the speed the inflatable had developed, most of the leg was in the water. Thus, the water passed indifferently over the waves, despite the doom that prevailed beneath it. Preventing wind-up and keeping the foot well in the water at all times, even on our long take-offs which were completely horizontal, the landing was incredibly smooth and only a few short and sharp starboard rudders were needed for the inflatable to cut through the sea with the prime of his isalo.

We were past 5,000 rpm and while the trim was at its lowest point, not a single drop touched us. It was as if we were flying, as if we were sailing on a level higher than the waves, which passed beneath us with tremendous force. But the inflatable really didn't care about the state of the sea and carved its own way, skimming the crests of the waves. It was an incredible sail, with the Shearwater showing all the virtues of her hull in really rough conditions. I found once again that this particular inflatable is completely indifferent to its excessive loads and always works as if it were empty. No matter how much we load it, it comes out of the water with great comfort, as a result of which it does not "crawl", but the geometry of its hull works and imposes itself on the water, giving us an incredibly stable and straight sailing.

So, completely dry, we quickly covered the 14 nautical miles to Reggio. With smiles on our faces after our incredible sailing, we moored at the marina located at the entrance of the harbor, just below the gas pumps.

The mythical strait of Scylla and Charybdis

While we were refueling, my mind was on the mythical strait of Scylla and Charybdis. We were in his thickets and had just taken a heavy dose of his legendary aura. Without any doubt it is the most famous strait in the world, known from Homer and the adventures of Odysseus. One of the most infamous sea passages, since the two terrible sea monsters lived here.

Scylla, then, lived at the eastern end of the northern entrance to the strait, on the Italian side where today the village of the same name is located. He lived in an endless cave, on a very high and vertical rock whose top was lost in the clouds. It had twelve deformed legs and six hideous heads with three jaws each. Each of her mouths had three rows of teeth and when she took her heads out of the cave, she lowered them down to the sea and ate dolphins, seals and of course people when any ship had the audacity to pass by.
Charybdis dwelt at the opposite end of the strait, on the Sicilian side, on a high hillock. It was a monster that spewed black water from its mouth. Three times a day he drank the water and three times he expelled it with tremendous speed. Thus, it turned the narrow passage into a huge vacuum from which no vessel could escape.
That's why Odysseus preferred to pass by the side of Scylla, so as not to lose the whole ship to the huge sucker of Charybdis.

So he began to move away from Charybdis, who had turned the sea into a great boiling cauldron. Approaching, however, towards Scylla, he witnessed a gruesome sight. Scylla's six terrifying mouths had seized six of his men, who were calling to him for help.

However, beyond the mythical dimensions of the strait in ancient times, its legend was preserved even later by the stories of the sailors who crossed the strait and were confronted with terrible weather phenomena such as gusts, strong currents and raging storms, and they believed that all this unprecedented upheaval was no accident. Unable to give a logical explanation, they maintained with their stories the evil spirit of the strait and believed that something more was hidden behind all this. Don't forget that in those years the only means of propulsion were sails and the passage was really particularly dangerous, due to the strong eddies and currents of the strait. Thus his notoriety was maintained even in the younger years.
Of course, the legend of the strait is not only due to the realm of fantasy and fiction. The Strait of Messina separates Italy from Sicily, narrowest at its northern entrance which is washed by the Tyrrhenian Sea and is 1.5 nautical miles wide. The southern opening of the strait, watered by the Ionian, is much wider and reaches 8 nautical miles. Inside the strait are two ports, Reggio on the Italian coast and Messina on the Sicilian side.

The strong currents of the strait are due to the different level of the water level in the two seas, the Tyrrhenian and the Ionian, with the result that it runs with great intensity, one to the south and the other to the north, depending on which sea has a higher level . In addition, the Tyrrhenian Sea is warmer and less salty than the Ionian, and this difference in the density of the two seas creates currents that run south at the surface and north deeper below 20 meters. All this, combined with the special morphology of the seabed, creates the strange and impressive phenomena observed on the surface of the sea.

Many times I have encountered in the strait, and especially as I approached towards... Charybdis, large sea sections of inexplicable oil in which the eddies were clearly visible. What is unusual, however, is not the eddies that you see, but that these marine sections of oil, which correspond to an area of approximately 50 to 80 meters in diameter, are formed in a raging sea where the torrential waves often reach a meter high.
Today, of course, with the evolution of means of propulsion, the strait does not hide any traps and all we have to do is admire the games of the waters that, descending from the Tyrrhenian sea to the Ionian or vice versa, form strong and often impressive eddies. Problems, however, can be created by the ravines that rush down from the surrounding mountains and can reach a frightening intensity.

In Tropea

After filling up with fuel, we continued on our way. From Reggio to the northern entrance to the strait we still had 10 nautical miles to go. With the sea noticeably better, we approached the Charybdis side and marveled at the strange phenomena taking place on the surface of the water. Coming out of the strait and despite the fact that there was a little destruction in it, the Tyrrhenian Sea once again seemed to be sleeping.

We left the very picturesque village of Scilla on our right and were now traveling through an incredible olive grove. We had 28 nautical miles to cover to Tropea, which was also our first scheduled stop. Our compass set to 15 degrees and our bow marked Capo Vaticano, the tip of a small peninsula off the west coast of Italy, which separates the Gulf of Tauro di Gioia from the Gulf of Santa Euphemia. Just five miles north of Capo Vaticano is Tropea.

Throughout the route we observed the western coasts of Calabria which, in contrast to the eastern ones, are impressive and characterized by high green mountains that descend steeply to the wonderful waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea.
Very quickly we arrived below the impressive cliffs of Capo Vaticano. We stood at the root of the cave and admired the lighthouse that is 99 meters above sea level, on top of the vertical rock.
A few meters further on, the steps leading up to the lighthouse began.

They looked very impressive but we were unable to approach them due to the heavy rain that day. We were left to observe the four wonderful beaches below, small sandy beaches with green waters that invite you to dive.

We cruised at low speed along the coast of the peninsula admiring a truly impressive landscape. On the five miles of coastline, from Capo Vaticano to Tropea, the waters have a wonderful turquoise color that captivates you. On the coast, whose rocks are cut vertically, very beautiful all-white sandy beaches are formed where many bathers enjoy their bath. Beautiful hotels, campsites, beach bars, but also very nice residences adorn the - in any case - beautiful coastline. And when of course our bow reached below the medieval castle state of Tropea we were left speechless by the imposing sight we were facing.
When I was planning this trip I chose Tropea as a refueling and rest stop mostly because of its strategic location and its beautiful marina. In no case did I imagine that we would find a wonderful destination, which without any doubt is the most beautiful place on the entire east coast of Calabria.
So we faced a "little Bonifacio". On the edge of the steeply cut limestone cliffs, about 50 meters above sea level, the majestic state dominates, with multi-storey pastel houses seeming to float in space. Just below, the unique turquoise colors of the sea made the picture we were facing even more impressive. Like a painting that you wanted to admire for hours.
The first thing we did was to stock up on rice and prepare a coffee on board. After all, there was no way to find a more beautiful spot to admire Tropea. We forgot our schedule and destinations and unanimously decided to stay for a day in this beautiful place.
We headed to the marina located northeast of Tropea, at the base of the rock on which the citadel is built. It is a wonderful and spacious marina, built in a very beautiful and quiet environment, ideal for accommodation and overnight stays. In addition, it provides us with everything we need (fuel, water and electricity), while there are also bathrooms, toilets, a cafe, a restaurant and laundries. After going to the marina offices (where they charged us 60 euros for our stay), we sat down for a coffee, enjoying the beautiful sight of the boats moored in the marina, under the rock of the castle town. Of course, we didn't hold back and, despite our tiredness, we spilled out to explore the old town.

Getting to know the old town

Just outside the marina, at its western end, begin the 200 or so steps that, carved into the vertical rock, lead to the old town. After our impressive climb, we stopped for a few breaths admiring the panoramic view towards the marina. From here begins a labyrinth of very narrow cobbled streets, which are so beautiful that you don't know which one to walk first. The old town is full of magnificent 17th century buildings, with many palaces and noble houses and many churches. Everything showed that the small town had experienced considerable prosperity over the centuries, and this opulence of the past was visible everywhere.

We soon came out to the Duomo square, dominated by the cathedral of SS di Romania, patron saint of the city. It is a majestic and admirable building that characterizes the architectural tradition of Tropea. We took the narrow Via Roma and emerged onto the wide central cobblestone Vittorio Emanuelle, roughly in the middle of which is the central Piazza Ercole. Everything looked magical, with many people wandering around looking at buildings and shops, while there were many who enjoyed the special atmosphere and color of this place sitting in the cafes and restaurants, always in the company of a piece of pizza, traditional food, local seafood dishes or the specialty of the city which is the sweet red onions.
After so much sea that we traveled for two consecutive days, everything seemed so festive and cheerful, that they made us sit in the most central cafe looking at everything and everyone around us!
Walking down the main street Vittorio Emanuelle is a real experience. Approximately in the middle is the wonderful Piazza Ercole square, while continuing further down the street ends at one of the most beautiful balconies in Tyrrhenia. Santa Maria dell' Isola dominates our left. A monastery with a unique architecture, which is also the "emblem" of Tropea. Built on the top of a rock-island connected to the mainland by a wide strip of sand, it is an attraction for many visitors. Just below our feet and to our right, stretches the wonderful sandy beach that hosts many people, while in the background our gaze is lost in the endless blue of the Tyrrhenian sea.

We stayed long enough to admire the wonderful view from the balcony of V. Emanuelle and after taking as many photos as we could, we wandered through the narrow streets of the city which hide many beautiful pictures. Very old buildings with unique elements and impressive entrances, arcades that host amazing shops and restaurants clad in local stone, as well as several small and large squares that invite you to sit down again for a coffee in one of the small cafes that have their tables on the cobblestones .
We wandered around the old town until night fell, and only when we felt that our legs could not take it anymore did we make our way to the marina. Our fatigue was great and the cabin of the boat very comfortable and sweet, promising us a delightful sleep...
The next morning we barely got out of the Shearwater cabin and after drinking our first cup of coffee, we set off again for the old town. We wanted to enjoy it once more, but with less people now, since most of them are away at the neighboring beaches at these times.

Until noon we wandered through the alleys and completely satisfied, after shopping for our souvenirs, we enjoyed our last coffee in Piazza Ercole.

It is worth noting that, according to the legend, the city was founded by Heracles, from whom it got its first name: Porto Herculis. Its current name also has Greek roots, from the village of Tropaia in Arcadia, Peloponnese.
Tropea is considered one of the best travel destinations in Calabria. And not without reason of course, since her good ones are many. With wonderful cobbled streets and palaces, many churches and medieval buildings of unique architecture, small hidden squares with cafes and restaurants, with wonderful spots that give you enchanting panoramic images and extremely beautiful sandy beaches washed by wonderful waters. But beyond all that, the panoramic position in which the castle town was built (which seems to hang over the sea) alone is an amazing image, which alone is worth visiting Tropea, the "Coast of Theon", the "Diamond of Tyrrhenia", as it is rightly called.

...keep Ribbing!                

The Strait of Messina and Tropea
This website uses cookies to improve your experience. By using this website you agree to our Data Protection Policy.
Read more