This is the seventh in a series of blog posts describing a trip with my son Alex in Germany and Italy this past July. At the end of my last post, we were about to leave Rome for Elba.
That morning, I woke up in Rome honestly wondering if I would be able to hobble out to the car. It was time to celebrate the wonders of Leukoplast (moleskin bandage.) We had bought a roll of Leukoplast back when we were in the Alps, and initially had thought that the fact that it came in a roll was inconvenient, as it had to be cut into band-aid shapes for normal use, which meant borrowing scissors at hotel desks. But now the point of the roll made itself plain—one could swathe the whole forefoot, or rather forefeet in the case of bipeds. So the people that make Leukoplast know what they are doing after all. Tourism is akin to airplane rides—if you can walk away, things probably went as well as they needed to.
Such is the crazy tourist impulse to “see enough” to justify the trip, when combined with the time constraints imposed by costs and careers. Not that I have a career; being retired, I no longer do. Alex has a career though. But it costs money to travel, so I do have costs. Nice as it would have been to stay a week or a month everywhere we went, we were on the hop: a see-and-flee itinerary.
Thus our lightning run on Elba. We went to Elba out of curiosity. Elba, we found, merited more than a day, a week or a month. A year would not have been too much. Napoleon spent less than a year on Elba before hopping a frigate for the Hundred Days. He must have been full-on deranged. Elba is enchanted.
That morning, I woke up in Rome honestly wondering if I would be able to hobble out to the car. It was time to celebrate the wonders of Leukoplast (moleskin bandage.) We had bought a roll of Leukoplast back when we were in the Alps, and initially had thought that the fact that it came in a roll was inconvenient, as it had to be cut into band-aid shapes for normal use, which meant borrowing scissors at hotel desks. But now the point of the roll made itself plain—one could swathe the whole forefoot, or rather forefeet in the case of bipeds. So the people that make Leukoplast know what they are doing after all. Tourism is akin to airplane rides—if you can walk away, things probably went as well as they needed to.
Such is the crazy tourist impulse to “see enough” to justify the trip, when combined with the time constraints imposed by costs and careers. Not that I have a career; being retired, I no longer do. Alex has a career though. But it costs money to travel, so I do have costs. Nice as it would have been to stay a week or a month everywhere we went, we were on the hop: a see-and-flee itinerary.
Thus our lightning run on Elba. We went to Elba out of curiosity. Elba, we found, merited more than a day, a week or a month. A year would not have been too much. Napoleon spent less than a year on Elba before hopping a frigate for the Hundred Days. He must have been full-on deranged. Elba is enchanted.
Joseph Beaume, Napoleon leaving Elba (Wikipedia).
It’s a modest easy drive up the coast on the Autostrada from Rome to Piombino, where ferries depart for the Tuscan Archipelago, Corsica and Sardinia. There are four ferry companies and a schedule crowded with departures and arrivals, and English and French are spoken, so connection to the islands of the Tyrrhenian Sea is easy. These are not the cheapest of ferries, but there is no reason why they should be.
Ferry port at Piombino.
In due course, Elba appears on the horizon.
Elba has more than one port, but the principal port is Portoferraio.
Portoferraio is guarded by an ancient fortress.
The town climbs up from its seawalks.
Portoferraio is charming
Elba has a deep history and an even deeper prehistory. Geologically Elba could be described as a miniature mountain range lifted off the sea bed by two orogenies and an acute volcanic intrusion that seamed parts of the island with iron and copper ore. Elba’s landscape is dramatic. At the dawn of history the island was important for its ores, but people lived on Elba even before history began.
There are precipitous beaches on Elba, with villages located on high promontories, connected by winding roads—exceptionally narrow involuted roads hanging on hillsides above stunning precipices.
There are precipitous beaches on Elba, with villages located on high promontories, connected by winding roads—exceptionally narrow involuted roads hanging on hillsides above stunning precipices.
Elba’s villages are at altitude. (Photo by Alex Mawyer).
Part of the explanation for promontory villages on Elba has to do with piracy and slave-raiding. The islands and the Italian coast were hounded by slave raiders from archaic times well into the modern era. The final extirpation of the Barbary Corsairs, for instance, was not accomplished until early in the 19th century. Harbors like Portoferraio on Elba required major fortification and the presence of a warship or two for safety. More far-flung coastal communities had to rely on watchtowers and flight. The hilltop town was a more absolute solution.
Terrace agriculture still persists on Elba, though not on the scale of olden times. We saw numerous abandoned or semi-abandoned terraces. As a practical matter, this kind of agriculture requires specialized knowledge which, once abandoned, would need to be relearned from scratch for terrace farming to resume. One reads that Elba has a long dry season with rains concentrated in the autumn, but also that Elba is very nearly semitropical except at the higher elevations. Island agriculture is within Alex's knowledge base, not mine. I was intrigued by Alex’s speculations that Elba has been and could again be agriculturally rich terroir.
Elba’s roads are nothing short of an adventure. Twenty km or so after we began to drive them, we arrived at Hotel Sant’Andrea. The hotel was brilliantly located. It was love at first site.
Terrace agriculture still persists on Elba, though not on the scale of olden times. We saw numerous abandoned or semi-abandoned terraces. As a practical matter, this kind of agriculture requires specialized knowledge which, once abandoned, would need to be relearned from scratch for terrace farming to resume. One reads that Elba has a long dry season with rains concentrated in the autumn, but also that Elba is very nearly semitropical except at the higher elevations. Island agriculture is within Alex's knowledge base, not mine. I was intrigued by Alex’s speculations that Elba has been and could again be agriculturally rich terroir.
Elba’s roads are nothing short of an adventure. Twenty km or so after we began to drive them, we arrived at Hotel Sant’Andrea. The hotel was brilliantly located. It was love at first site.
Hotel grounds. (Photo by Alex Mawyer).
Balcony terraces with native cat. The cat had the run of all the rooms.
Our itinerary on Elba was not very demanding. We schemed to enjoy the hotel balcony, drink some of the very best wine I have ever had, and have a nice meal at the hotel (which turned out to be gastronomically ineffable—Chef Sauro is a culinary genius and the wait staff was more like a band of new friends than a wait staff).
Octopus gnocchi: I recommend it. (Photo by Alex Mawyer).
Room with a view. (Photo by Alex Mawyer).
While staring at the horizon, we saw a subtle but unmistakable reminder—well, example really—of the tectonic violence underlying Italy: a perfect crescent of tsunami racing across the calm sea from horizon to horizon, as geometrical as if scribed by a compass. It was just a ripple comparatively speaking, and the undersea earthquake that set it off was not strong enough to feel, but as I say, it was a reminder.
The hotel was a few hundred meters above sea level and we at first thought the walk down and back was perhaps not an advantage; but in truth this was a walk not to be missed, past fascinating little villas, volcanic stone walls, wonderful succulents and other interesting plants.
The hotel was a few hundred meters above sea level and we at first thought the walk down and back was perhaps not an advantage; but in truth this was a walk not to be missed, past fascinating little villas, volcanic stone walls, wonderful succulents and other interesting plants.
Example of a wonderful succulent.
Anchorage at Sant’Andrea. Umbrellas and lounge chairs are for rent on the sand beach.
The pebble and sand beach was very popular but I far preferred the stony cape around the corner, where one could lay down on wave-smoothed sandstone and enjoy the warm, sparkling crystal sea.
Cape at Sant’Andrea.
A natural bathing spot.
Wonderful rock formations.
Tempted to invent a myth!
Ruminating on the history of the place, we could almost have fantasized that our iphones would rattle with news from Brussels and Washington of our necessary exile, in the name of all humanity and the best interests of world peace. We too could have been Napoleons, but not make the mistake Buonaparte made in leaving Elba.
But in the upshot, no government or other public body came to our rescue. In almost no time, we were exiled from, rather than to, the island of Elba. It was time to head on to Volterra, a major city of the ancient Etruscans.
But in the upshot, no government or other public body came to our rescue. In almost no time, we were exiled from, rather than to, the island of Elba. It was time to head on to Volterra, a major city of the ancient Etruscans.
Elba receding.
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