In a couple of hours, we had booked our hotel, the ferry trip and planned our weekend trip to the island of Ponza. Our spirits were high because the island promised us idyllic coasts and hidden beaches far away from the bustle of the huffing and puffing tourists of Rome, sweating their way from monument to monument.
Friday afternoon, we headed to Termini to take our misleadingly single train trip to Anzio. One thing about the Italian train system, it is by far the most reasonable and sane way to travel the country. So, it was expected that we were not only disembarked, but also transferred to a bus (???), then another train, and we almost got off at the wrong station with a very similar name. However, as we were heavily warned about the unpredictability of Italian public transport; our little detour only made us hungrier. My piece of advice: bring snacks.
The reward for our journey was breathtaking. Seated at a cozy open restaurant overlooking the sea, we ate our dinner accompanied only by the gentle sound of the ocean sighing to itself with the occasional chuckle, watching the horizon melt away into the dusky sky.
The next day, we took an early morning ferry to Ponza. The island surprised us from the beginning; hundreds of local Italian tourists greeted us, already armed with tanning oil and bathing suits. We made our way around the brightly colored coastal buildings to awaiting water taxis, taking one to a small rocky cove with deep slopes and stunningly clear blue water.
The day that followed was slightly cloudy with peeking rays of sunlight, perfect for intermittent bathing and snacking. We hitched a ride on a tour of the Ponza caves, but our limited Italian prevented us from understanding. Google came to our rescue, and from what I could tell the island had been inhabited from Neolithic times, suspected to be the island of Aeaea in Homer’s Odyssey. We had actually seen Circe’s supposed cave where she would seduce Odysseus’ men as we realized much later. I could tell how much of a local haunt the place was just by how well nurtured Ponza’s Wikipedia page is.
To the end the trip, we were taken to an Eastern inlet of the island with no beach, just deep water surrounded by imposing yellow cliff faces. With the boat anchored we jumped right off into the sea, so deep that there were quite a few feet of water under us, but clear enough to see the sandy floor. Gentle waves, sparkling sunlight and the smell of freshly cooked pasta completed our trip, and as soon as we were dry we made our way back to the mainland.
The trip was only for two nights but it felt like weeks. Playing cards by night and beach frolicking by day summarized the most perfect beginning to my Italian adventures.
(Almost forgot, Gelato Update: On the island I tried Tarocco (Blood Orange), a citrus flavor with almost a floral orangey taste.)
(featured image credits: Grace Chen, Ami Mehta )
Signing off,
Ami Mehta