Ponza

As I think I’ve mentioned before, I find the weather in the Med bewilderingly changeable and when we left Ischia it was with a flat clam sea and bright sunshine. During the day the temperature climbed to 35c as we motored past the island of Ventotene and on to Ponza, the most populous of the Pontine Islands. We had expected Ponza harbour to be surrounded with lots of small marinas, but in another sign of the lateness of the season all the pontoons had been removed and stacked on the beach. Ponza is a spectacular island rising sheer out of the Tyrrhenian Sea in a symphony of cliffs, caves and bizarre rock formations. We anchored in the harbour with a couple of other cruising yachts, including one brave elderly Swiss couple who had a skinny dip before rowing ashore. That night I watched the Ponza car ferry arrive with increasing trepidation. From about a mile out I could hear the thrumming of its engines and see its navigation lights heading for us in a straight line. Within a hundred metres and looming increasingly large it still seemed to be going full ahead, before turning hard to starboard, dropping its anchors with a very loud clanging and backing onto the town quay whilst sounding its hooter to announce its arrival. It disgorged a motley cargo of passengers, lorries and beaten up Apes (the small three-wheeled vans that are Italy’s replacement for the donkey).