The Gods loved the Aeolian Islands, and who could blame
them: they are utterly beautiful. No more praise needs to be given.
Lipari is proud of the best Archeological Museum in Europe, which
contains plenty of proof, that Greeks and Romans and their Deities enjoyed La
Dolce Vita right here.
Lipari is one of five (?) islands in the Aeolians.
Mountainous due to their volcanic origins, verdant except in the active craters
of still rumbling volcanoes, fertile, azure blue waters, quaint villages and
ports, and a view across the Strait to the island of Vulcan, still active,
which legend claims was the workshop of the God Vulcan, the great smith of the
Gods. One needs to read Greed Mythology to comprehend the convoluted love and
revenge legends of these rather temperamental celestials, to understand the
true role of these beautiful islands in the course of history. But, the inner
ear plays Grand Opera filled with arias of Dioses and Diosas, whenever one
lands in one of these legendary jewels of the Mediterranean. Verdi’s thundering
Anvil Choir, where Vulcan hammers away in time to the music, especially comes
to mind.
But, the Patron Saint of Lipari is the Martyr Bartholomeus,
who died after being cut up and skinned alive by his adversaries. He is said to
be buried here – with his separate coat of skin.
As the village is small, charming, walkable (not to say –
climbable) I opted for leisurely exploring on foot. I worked my way up to the
remnants of a Roman amphitheatre offering stunning views, strolled amongst a
host of sarcophagi, admired a Romanesque cathedral (from the exterior)
clambered through alleys and staircases paved with black volcanic stones and
watched a few local fishermen play cards on the bow of a tiny boat. Life is good
here.
So is the local fare, whether liquid or solid. And no visit
to an Italian Island is complete without at least tasting some of their
delights. Pace here was tranquil – only a handful of tourists wandered through
the village and filled the terraces of the restaurants (at least 50 restaurants
in this tiny town) which one finds along the shore and in small hide away
corners of the town. Main Street is still lined with grocery stores and fruit
and vegetable stands, which almost outnumber tourist oriented stores, filled
with ceramic, textiles and (as always) beautifully designed and produced
Italian Fashion.
Quintessentially Southern Italy with all the joys and beauty
one reads about in brochures but rarely ever finds as unspoiled as here in
Lipari. As a matter of course, I indulged in a Sicilian Pizza (which was
delicious on paper thin crust) and shared a Campari Soda and a Copa di Vino
Blanco di Sicilia with co-travellers in various inviting little sidewalk cafes.
We just kicked back and enjoyed the delightful little town to the very last
available minute. Lipari, indeed a place that invites to abide a wee, as the
Scots say.
