Hopping to the Tiber River via Gaeta

Milly had never been so guarded, as in Gaeta.

We were on a schedule - never our favourite thing, but seems to be our habit this season - to get to a reserved berth on the Tiber River where we were leaving Milly for our trip to Canada.

A stop on the way was Gaeta.  In ancient Roman times, Gaeta was and still is, a resort for the Roman Emperors and rich.  Via Appia, which Peter and I had bicycled 8 years ago, leads to the villas of the wealthy from Rome.  Today the city is thriving with tourism but other industrial trials have been unsuccessful including as a commercial port which makes it a favourite stop for yachts.

A small chapel sat wedged between these two walls of rock.  Legend has it that the rock split at the moment of Christ's death.  

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A battalion of beach chairs.  Can't imagine trying to find my towel after a dip in the crowded sea.

Gaeta was a lovely anchorage.  We explored the levels of medieval lanes up to the churches on the left and hiked to the top of the promontory to unexpectedly find a 1st century mausoleum of a Roman general - currently a museum in the middle of nowhere.

The tiella is unique to Gaeta.  It is a cross between a pizza and a calzone, baked, not fried. It comes with a variety of stuffings.  We tried the typical - diced calamari with garlic, oil, pepper and a tiny bit of tomato sauce and a baccala (dried codfish).  Interesting but a bit too much dough for me. Gaeta also boasts a distinctive brand of olive.  We have the green in our stores for future consumption.  The black have been consumed. 

Traditional fishing techniques at Ostia, the mouth of the Tiber River.  Called "bilancione or "big scale".  Not sure what they were catching but it was a very murky, opaque river.  We also saw guys fishing with a cast net.  

This guy moved Milly from one berth to another by rafting up and pulling, pushing, nudging her into place very gently, without mishap and lickety split.  Very skilled.

This was a family run marina where boats were rafted up on old, rather decrepit wooden docks.  Our neighbours behind us were collectors items and hadn't moved in eons but were much loved.  We had to climb over our neighbour from Guernsey and another boat that was slowly sinking to get ashore.  The marina, staffed by the charming family, was simple but lovely surrounded by marshland.  We had constant entertainment when we weren't working by the boat traffic on the Tiber.  

One of three swan teens who swam by twice a day and slept at night on a tiny private beach across from us.  Private - only for them and a muskrat.