After our hot & sunny day in Zaykinthos, we wake up the next morning to a wonderful, powerful maritime storm! Paul, a British member of the crew ( and who is thus accustomed to rainy weather) and I stand on the top deck marveling at the crashing thunder and dramatic lightning, which is coming every five or six seconds. And then, hail! I went around collecting hailstones, some just under golfball size, to put in my grapefruit juice! Pics below of the hail on deck and floating in the angry seas, although it may be too small to see well.

This either tells us where we are, or that we shouldn't be there.

Some posted menus give you little hints.

"And what would you like, sir?" "Uhhhh...." Pretty sure we're not in Kansas any more, Toto.

It was Barbara's birthday yesterday. Upon embarking, all passengers's passports are collected and held by the ship's Purser, and apparently they sneak a peek at passport info for just such occasions as birthdays. A small cake arrived at the dinner table, and we came back to the room to find balloons, ribbons, a bottle of wine, and a nice note.

We find a funny little taverna, a ways off the main drag. The owner (and waiter, busboy, etc) was a kick (in his stained and somewhat fragrant sleeveless undershirt), he had had a Greek restaurant in New York City for 20-some years, but came back "home" and opened one in his house. We joke about food and women and New York and life in general, and he chooses our lunch: moussaka, beef in lemon, and a big fat Greek salad. A neighborhood dog ambled by, all eyes met, and he may have sensed a connection (by that, I mean "easy mark"). he waited patiently a few yards away, keeping an eye on us. When we left, his dog-sense paid off - apparently i had pocketed a few morsels of my lunch in my napkin, and I may have then accidentally dropped them as we approached him. He gobbled them up, followed us for a bit, then wandered off in search of greener pastures. If you're ever on Zaykinthos, stop by my new friend Deni's place, and tell him I sent you.

Zaykinthos, a beautiful Greek island. We do a tour of the town, including a visit to the ancient church and home of the local saint, with a look at the interesting Greek Orthodox cemetery.

Women are asked to wrap a skirt around their waists, for monastery visits.

more Meteora. The monasteries were built as far back as the 14th Century. The interiors are covered in frescos and other sacred artwork, but of course did not allow pictures inside. The outside is spectacular!

More Meteora. For centuries, the monks would raise and lower a net from the peaks, to transport goods (and people) between the monasteries and the valley floor, hundreds of yards below.

*ahem*

Turquoise and azure water of the Greek isles, with our ship in the distance.

Our captain, from the starboard perch where he directs arrivals and departures from the ports.

Meteora's old winch for the net/pulley system, and the more modern one.

The ship's staff is careful when leaving munchies in the staterooms, in order to prevent any fruit-confusion.

Still struggling to get photos uploaded, but here's a taste of Meteora. Monasteries in the sky.

Q

My most recent gelato experience: I tried something called mustazollo, because I'd never seen it before and I wanted to see if I could figure out what flavor it was (hoping it wasn't mustard). I was unsuccessful - it's in the chocolate family, but that's all I know, and my two translation apps couldn't identify it either. Anyone out there know?!

Tux-free Zone

We avoided "formal night" last night and opted for the more casual restaurant onboard. Thought there would be a lot of folks doing the same, but there were far more men in tuxes and women in gowns, who opted to do the formal dining room.  To each his own.

We are zigzagging south across the Adriatic, starting in Venice, then the Triluke Bay and Dubrovnik stops in Croatia, back over to Italy (Brindisi) today, now on to Greek ports of Igoumenitsa and Zaykinthos.

Padlocks with pairs of initials on them, all locked to each other around a lamppost. Something about young lovers, like throwing coins into a fountain or carving initials into a tree. I dunno.

We are presented with a very nice lunch in a grand old 16th Century palazzo, with a very pretty garden.

No turisti. Molto bene.

The ancient Roman Amphitheatre, only fairly recently unearthed and researched. Modern buildings surround it.

Lecce's musical heritage on display. The second picture will only mean something to my fellow opera-buddies. In fact, I'm sitting in the main square right as the bell tower strikes noon, and speakers around the town play a few minutes of Schipa singing. In the first half of the 20th century, his fame rivaled Caruso's, and I would argue his voice was lighter and more lyrical. He's from Lecce and is still warmly remembered.

far fewer of these than might be expected; this might be the first one I remember seeing. Not a problem.

Lecce is in the south of Italy, and its monuments and churches use its distinctive sunny yellow stone, so all the façades have a warm golden glow. The limestone is subject to weathering and pockmark ing over time, which the locals call " cavities in the teeth". So when restoration is needed, they don't call a stonemason, they say "call a dentist".

No comment.

I'm in Lecce, which is a remarkable place not least because of the almost total lack of tourists. Bit of a jolt, and a most pleasant one.

 

a most remarkable ceiling....