Sailing with the Treleavens

Antibes and Cannes is is a beautiful area and we haven't moved very far for a few days. Antibes is a lovely old town, narrow cobble stone streets and the best market we have seen on this trip; I have never seen so much cheese, spices, oil perfume, antipasta, fruit and vegetables. Dinner at very French restaurant, Le Vauban, behind elegant lace in Rue Thuret where the food is presented beautifully and tastes as good as it looks.

As George is an early riser, we are up early and off to see the Picasso Museum. Picasso painted here in the castle for a short time in 1946 and left all his sketches here in Antibes. We stroll through the old town and can't wait to get back out to sea and swim, the afternoons are very hot and the only place to be is on the water.

Bay hopping around the Cap d'Antibes to find a place to anchor, we have never seen so many boats and keeping Ian and George focused on steering is turning out to be very tiresome. Who's who, super yachts, cruisers and topless females draping the bows it's all very entertaining.

The International Jazz Festival is on in Juan Les Pins and we are lucky enough to get a space in the marina. Sometimes in this area the sea gets very rollie and not a good option for a night in a bay, so we are very thankful to get a space as it is now high season and the only way to get a space is if someone leaves for the night from their permanent mooring.  Great open air evening concert by Stefano Di Battista from Italy and the McCoy Tyner All Stars from America.

Islands of Sainte Marguerite and St Honorat are only 5 nm away and only 1 nm off Cannes. Trouble is it is no secret and even mid week it's crowded. On the island of Sainte Marguerite is Fort Royal Prison famous for the 'Man in the Iron Mask' whose identity is still unknown today. You can enter the mysterious prisoner's cell in the prison which is now a museum for Roman Sea artefacts found in the adjacent area including a Roman Gallion.

St Honorat a very small island and has a living 4th Century Monastery even today. A haven for prayer away from the world, in its hay day a very influential place, producing some 20 Saints and 600 Bishops. Saint Patrick studied here for 9 years and then went to Ireland to convert the heathens. You can stay here now and join the monks in prayer at 4am then work the vine yards by day and not say a word. Wouldn't suit us!

The turquoise blue water between the islands makes this a very pleasant lunch stop and the evening is spent watching fire works over Cannes.

Back up to Antibes again and Sabrina and George leave us and we are on our own for one day. We do the laundry, wash the boat, replenish the galley and crash for the afternoon, and in the evening have drinks with Martin and Bridget Grover who have just launched their new Beneteau 473 and off to see the Mediterranean, as you do…

Coming down from the Cognac region in France by private plane is Liz and Heinz for there third time with us and coming with them is our son Ian. We meet them in Cannes and it is Brazilian Night; we're anchored in the bay and venture ashore to see what it's all about. It only takes one huge semi trailer, 15 musicians, 3 dancers, 6 singers and 112 decibels of sound and the whole town is out to watch the truck inch down the Promenade. We followed for some time to the beat of drums and people dancing in the street.

Now in St Tropez its time for the highest heels, shortest skirts and tanned bodies, looking forward to a fabulous few days with all the glamour around.

Our neighbouring yachts in the bay belong to Kerry Packer, Dennis O'Neil and every other super yacht that could possibly be around.
 

A full house for a few days, and finding it very hard to leave this very beautiful bay of Portofino. With Janey, Young Ian, George and Sabrina Snow on board, we are back in our idealic bay, anchored under the mansions with their manicured gardens.

The weather is now no wind and hot, so we motor on north along the Italian Riviera our destination Genoa for the night. We have read about the statue of Christ beneath the water in the bay of San Fruttuoso and as usual it's not easy to find. Standing 4 metres high, arms out stretched skyward in 15 metres of water; we find this snorkelling and very scary. Janey says she will never forget the look on his face and Ian commented he looked like he wanted to get to the surface. No photos but see what you can find on the internet?

Stern into the wharf at the fishing village of Camogli for a coffee break and George investigates a little bit of history. Camogli comes from the word communal house where fisherman's wives were locked up until there return,
thankfully along time ago. George and Ian think it's not a bad idea for Sydney-Hobart wives. Fishing nets piled high it turns out to be a very natural salty port and could have spent more time here.

The coast is very exposed with high cliffs but interestingly a very
populated coast line with huge stairways to the sea from the mansions.

We may be in old town Genoa, but we are parked in the sewer. Not to our liking we are very diplomatic and ask to be moved. Christopher Columbus came from Genoa and the Museum and Garibaldi Avenue with its Palaces; you could get to like this place. On the water front is a huge pirate ship built for the movie La Pirates, not exactly to scale but very impressive. A must see is the largest Oriental Exhibition in the western world, in the Chiossone
Museum. One mans collection in the 1800's made up of 15000 pieces. George and Ian visited the Aquarium and saw first hand a sunfish swimming around, and now understand why a yacht stops when they hit them.

The coast now is beach after beach with umbrellas, deck chairs and changing sheds. Very colourful but crowded villages, everyone is now on the coast.  We visit Varazzse only to find we are too big and have to anchor in a bay and roll all night; this is not in the brochure. Finale Ligure and Janey and Ian are on there way to London.

The only island on this part of the coast is Isolotto Gallinara, a private island but you can anchor and enjoy a swim.

Imperia Porto Maurizio and the only reason to visit is the pasta museum, only to find it has been relocated to Rome. Instead Sabrina and I find the new, award winning, olive museum, Museo dell Olivo and Ian and George check out the yachts.

San Remo and as usual what you hope to see is gone else where, and this place has to be missed next time. All we seem to do is move, eat, drink and George is leading the way.
Especially with his Mojito's, which always seems to take half a bottle of rum for 4 drinks. Certainly makes Sabrina and myself talk a lot.

Crossing the boarder to France we have a stop over in Menton, a very attractive old town on the boarder in France and we can't believe the change, not only the language but the whole feeling of different foods, shops and the coffee will never be as good as Italy.
Phoning ahead to reserve a spot in Monaco we are now too small for the main marina and get a spot in the Marina Fontvieille which turns out to be very convenient and a fabulous supermarket ashore. Cotes du Rhone at $4, very good value.

As we entered Marina Fontvieille, we pass the white cliffs covered in cactus and high above is the Palace. We are literally moored beneath the Palace.

The usual tourist spots, tour the Palace and see Prince Albert cross the courtyard, visit the cathedral where Princess Grace and Prince Rainer are buried and visit the museum. Our visit wouldn't be complete if we didn't have an evening in the casino square. It's more interesting sitting out side in the cafes just watching the passing of people and the highly polished Ferrari's and Rollers.

Sunday and out on the water its boats everywhere all off to bays north and south on this beautiful day. In the bay off Cap Ferret we weave our way in and out of super yachts and even Octopus is here with her two helicopters. This area is simply stunning with mansions lining the bays and stay the night off Villefranche. The afternoon is a bit of a blur. 
 

We love northern Italy and are now moving very slowly enjoying. The weather has had something to do with it too as some unseasonal lows are causing the Mistral to enter the Gulf of Genoa. The moment you arrive in the Gulf of La Spezia on a hot summer Saturday, it's a buzz with a harbour full of yachts and hundreds of inflatables. Everyone is out on every imaginable boat to enjoy this beautiful harbour. Our son Ian has arrived after 40 hours of traveling from Sydney and we enjoy a dinner of mussels and vongole spaghetti and pizza. La Spezia is a large commercial and naval port but behind all this is a wonderful bustling pleasant town with great architecture. It is also the arrival point for the Cinque Terre which is just north of the Harbour.

Portovenere is at the entrance to the Gulf and a medieval village of
matchstick pastel coloured houses, between a local grey stone church and castle. It is famous for pesto and pizzas. Never rely on the weather; it is all about to change. Janey has now arrived and we plan to sail up the Cinque Terre but the weather stops us in our tracks and we have to wait out high winds in a small bay Le Grazie. Turns out to be a delightful village for coffees ashore and supermarket shopping.

A second night in Portovenere, which is no hardship, and we enjoy what turns out to be a famous restaurant visited by the stars (Locanda Lorena). Set on the island of Palmaria, everyone is picked up in the highly varnished Riva. From grilled whole scampi which were simply delicious, mussels which are farmed in the bay, to marinated salmon.

Finally we leave but the seas are confused and no wind. Pressing on we pass the medieval small towns clinging to cliffs. The five villages called the Cinque Terre, all within a few miles of each other, is now a famous walking area. Once abandoned terraces are now being restored and growing vines are now draping the cliff faces. We anchor off Vernazza,(we are too long to fit into the small harbour) the most picturesque of the villages and venture in by dinghy (not that easy in the rolling sea and my main consideration is the
camera). The villages were built in valleys where there only access was by sea. We can't stay long, but we have time for a short walk along the terraces and wonder how steep cliffs could be terraced and cultivated for hundreds of years and still be fertile land.

We press on and shelter and lunch in the harbour of Sestri Levante where Marconi first experimented with radio waves and a welcome swim in surprisingly beautiful light blue water. I hope we are going to see more of this up the coast. Only ten miles and we are now in Rapallo, San Margherita and Portofino (all within 3 miles) a very popular wealthy holiday home area for Northern Italians. The wind is still strong with the Gulf De Lion having 50 knot winds and we are on the tail end of it. I am starting to dread that part of the coast but hopefully our timing will be okay.

Portofino and we are anchored in the bay for two nights sheltering from the continuing wind….don't feel sorry for us! This has to be a highlight and doesn't let us down. A picture perfect very small port surrounded by manicured gardens and trees that look sculptured and then there are the very few mansions. As we entered the small opening and turned to the right the view is unveiled and the sight of terraced pastel coloured houses to the waters edge is all too perfect. We anchor in the bay just outside the port beneath the road in very deep water; it's surging too much for us in the
port.  At first we are on our own but soon surrounded by local wood varnished putt putt boats to super yachts. There is no room inside the port it's full and then they somehow get more super yachts in. Everyone comes here and by the number of super yachts around for such a small bay it sure has a lot of appeal.

Day 3 in Portofino and the sun is back and we have just spent the day 'gorking' and swimming. I have even refrained from hanging out the washing.

We head for Marina San Margherita for a night to replenish water and pick up George and Sabrina Snow. Eating out has become a real joy and the sea food is fantastic. Dinner out at di Beppe on the water front in San Margarita, we may never leave.