Return to Italy

December 13, 1999

The return over the Adriatic was a lot rougher than the first trip had been. It didn't bother me any, but Michael got a touch of seasickness that he denied was seasickness. He blamed detoxification of the gasoline fumes and pollution in Greece (which had been considerable); he blamed the rough passage and lack of sleep. Later, we realized it was probably the start of a bout with the flu.

In any case, around ten in the morning we found ourselves back at Brindisi…our first chance to see the place in the daytime.

I hadn't noticed the famous Brindisi lighthouse on our previous trip, probably because it was night and all I could see was the light, itself. The structure is modern and very attractive and, of course, computer-controlled—no more grizzled lighthouse keepers who live in isolation and whose only excitement is clambering up sea-slicked stairs struggling to keep a kerosene oil lamp lit—now, there isn't even the limited romance of flicking a switch; it's all done by electronics.

In a reverse of our original boarding, the great door of the ship lowered, allowing the passengers as well as the vehicles to leave.

We had to wait our turn; but, in due time, the water shuttle arrived to take us back to the sea wall. As before, we had to load our own stuff, but at least Viet wasn't there requiring our help for his stuff, too!

And then, we were back on land. Unwilling to repeat the long trudge through town we had made on our previous visit, we hailed a cab and got a ride to the train station. There we made our reservations for our return trips toward Paris, starting with today's journey: through Switzerland's Oberon Valley.