We Broke the Hotel's Front Door?

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We sleep in and spend the morning lazing around the pool. It's a bit hazier today and more humid.

We've read on TripAdvisor that the number one thing to do in Lipari is visit the Chiesa Vecchia church in Quattropani on the other side of the island. We trudge down to the port again. I head to the ferry office to buy our tickets for the ferry to Milazzo in Sicily for when we leave tomorrow, while Issy goes to look for bus tickets to Quattropani. I don't know too much about the ferry service, and as I wait nervously in the queue I begin to think that maybe I should have looked into it a bit more carefully before we left home. I hope there is a ferry tomorrow. TripAdvisor said that the bus services to Quattropani are "infrequent to non-existent on Sundays", and it's Sunday today. Issy says that there seems to a bus running so she buys some tickets and on we hop on. I hope there's a bus back; it looks like it'd be a long walk.

We get off the bus and follow the signs up the hill to the church. It's quite hazy, but the views across to the neighbouring island of Salina and along the north and west coasts of Lipari are still excellent. We walk past the church and on through an olive grove; the views from here down over the coastal village of Acquacalda are also excellent. There's almost no one here and it's very peaceful. It looks as if there's been quite a serious bushfire through here recently. There's lots of prickly pear, and whilst some of it's burnt completely, other sections look to be bouncing back well. This is consistent with what I'd understood previously about prickly pear being close to indestructible weed. Most people at home seem to think it could probably survive a nuclear war.

We wait nervously to see whether a bus will turn up. One us does come past at the time it's supposed to, but it's going the wrong way and it speeds past without stopping. We think about calling a taxi, but we don't have a phone with us. Hmmm. It doesn't look like too many people live here, and there are no shops. Just as we're about to set up camp for the night at the bus stop, which is next to some very smelly rubbish bins, the bus reappears, and this time it is going the right way. It seems that this is the last stop and it just needed to go on a bit further to turn around. We cross the ridge along the middle of the island at the village of Quattrocchi. The views from here along the south west coast of Lipari and across to Vulcano are stunning.

We trudge back up the hill and stop at reception to arrange our shuttle bus transfer for tomorrow. The door's closed, and the hotel dog's on the other side of it waiting to pounce. If it's true to form, if we try to go through the door it'll try to bite our arms off. The receptionist sees us cowering in terror and calls it off. It seems that now that we have the receptionist's approval it wants to be our best friend. It's gone from wanting to rip us limb from limb a minute ago to now wanting to lick us to death. We go to leave and it sneaks out through the door behind us. Issy manages to coax it back inside, and then tries to close the door quickly so that it can't get out again. She pulls it very hard, and the handle comes off in her hand. She tries to put it back on again, but it's broken. We don't think anyone's noticed yet, so we sneak away quickly. The door looks a bit funny without a handle.

We walk down into the town for our last dinner here. We're both feeling very sad to be leaving. Issy says that Lipari has been her favourite place on the trip so far, and I think she might want to come here to live. We walk through to the small port. The festival's now in full swing and this is party central. There are side shows setup all along the waterfront and all the restaurants are full.

We walk back up the street and find a small restaurant halfway up the hill. The waiter's very helpful and gives us a short course on Sicilian craft beers. I order a large red one and Issy orders a blonde (beer that is). The two unusual bottles come out in a large glass bowl filled with ice, and the whole display looks like it belongs in an art gallery. Our waiter suggests that we blend the beers. I screw my face up, but Issy says that I need to think a bit more creatively. I suppose I can't think of any good reason why you shouldn't blend beers, I'd just never thought of doing it before. We ask for the English version of the menu which seems to include something called "integrated biological spaghetti"... someone's clearly been putting the Google translator to good use......

The festival seems to have been going on for a couple of days now. The waiter tells us that it's for the feast of San Bartolomeo, which is on the 24th August. I'm pretty sure it's only 20th August today, so it seems like the locals are keen to drag it on for as long as possible. It feels like party central now and there are still four days to go until the real thing. I wonder what it will be like here then; it might be just as well we're leaving. We stroll down to the small port where there's a full blown rock concert underway on the stage that we saw being set up last night.

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Comments

[Suzanne Conroy]

Lipari
Your description of your time in Lipari sounds awful. Cranky people, dogs, no shuttle. Issy says Lipri has been her favourite place so far?????

[DaveandIssy]

Despite all of that it was a very nice place!

[Issy]

Big G
His just Grumpy Su. Another BIG 'G'