Archipelago Dreaming
[Day 3]
by Rudston Steward
have a simple theory about happiness: if you one day happen to walk up a mountain, walk down the other side, and then jump in the sea, it’s pretty much guaranteed to be an amazing—as in very happy—day. I put this theory into practice as often as I can; it’s become something of a dictum I try to live my life by. And try as I may it never seems to fail. Which is why I design walking trips that go over-the-mountain-and-into-the-sea whenever possible. Of course it doesn’t hurt that Italy just happens to have thousands of kilometers of stunning seashore, and is for the most part rather mountainous; this country is blessed with myriad islands and coastlines that effortlessly fuse mountains and sea, with relentlessly spellbinding results. Italy just begs you to walk on by—hiking shoes and costume at the ready—and attain sure-fire strolling enlightenment.
WALK UP A MOUNTAIN, WALK DOWN THE OTHER SIDE, AND THEN JUMP IN THE SEA
In Calabria we walk up and over the foothills of the Aspromonte and then jump into the Ionian Sea; in Sicily’s Aeolian Islands we spend days on end sauntering up and down volcanos and diving into the Tyrrhenian; in Sardinia we traverse the Supramonte massif so as to plunge into the cerulean Gulf of Orosei. But perhaps my favourite setting for putting the theory to the test is Day 3 of our Elba Safari: from the town of Poggio we go all the way up Monte Capanne, then drop down the other side to the coast at Sant’Andrea, and into the delicious delirious deep blue Mediterranean Sea.
From the summit (1019m above sea level) on a clear day the other islands of the Tuscan Archipelago are scattered about and below you in an arc, as in a dream: Giglio, Montecristo, Pianosa, Capraia, Gorgona. To the east stretches the Italian mainland, southern Liguria to northern Lazio. And to the west lies Corsica, so close it seems you could reach over and pick a ripe red corbezzolo from one of its strawberry trees.
ITALY JUST BEGS YOU TO WALK ON BY—HIKING SHOES AND COSTUME AT THE READY—AND ATTAIN SURE-FIRE STROLLING ENLIGHTENMENT
The descent to the sea happens in stages, marked by changes in geology and vegetation, in climate overhead and textures underfoot, in tastes on the tongue and vistas in the mind’s eye. Down over slabs of granite, down past chestnuts in bloom and wild mouflon sheep, through holm oaks and bracken and moss, after bitter beer and sweet pastries in a Marciana bar, down past lentisk and Arbutus Unedo, towards waves crashing onto sand far below, finally down onto the beach and into the blue. Submerged, still walking underwater awhile, swimming. You emerge, dripping in the sun, tired and—as the simple theory goes—happy. Archipelago dreaming.