As our stay in Reggio Calabria was coming to a close, I found myself having developed a burgeoning fondness of the city. As pointed out earlier, the view of Sicily is stunning, but that is certainly not all Reggio has going for it. In addition to being moderately clean and having a pleasant city center, the planners of Reggio did something rather ingenious with their train tracks. Discounting the opinions of rail-buffs, train tracks are generally not that interesting to look at. In addition, they can be a pain to cross. What did the folks of Reggio do about the tracks that inevitably had to run parallel to the beach, effectively cutting it off from access to the city? They could have put in under-passes, but thankfully they didn’t. Instead, along the entire length of the beach, said tracks are built over by a beautiful sea-wall promenade that is not only functional and easy of the eyes but also sound dampening to the point the noise of the passing trains are reduced to muted rumble.
Reggio also reinforced the practicality for budget-minded travelers that staying 10-15 minutes walk from the central hot spots is well worth it. We not only saved big on the accommodation itself and at the food stores (including some modest fruit and vegetal markets) but also found some pizzerias close to “home” frequented by delightfully animated locals that made us both fondly remember the area of Prenzlauerberg in Berlin. Low key but with a very distinct and authentic vibe.
While we were originally planning on driving to our next stop, Brindisi in the Puglia region, i.e. the heel of the boot, we chickened out with the feeble excuse that our host had told us it wouldn’t be a very nice drive. So instead of careening down the highway in a rented Fiat Panda, we hopped on what effectively was the shortest train in the world. By definition. It was only one car that clearly was self-propelled. What it lacked in overall comfort and amenities however, it made up for in acceleration. Never before have we ridden in a train so clearly from the days of the early Greek occupation that moved like a sports car. The stick shift (this part is actually true, the Greek era comment – not so much) further compounded this impression. This little engine that could, transported us, if not in style then at least safely to Taranto (the obvious center of the Ontario, I mean Puglia, universe). We had months ago in a moment of inexplicable dizziness considered staying in Taranto. Glad we didn’t. It’s an industrial harbor and we couldn’t get on the regional train to Brindisi quickly enough.
Even though we didn’t move that far north, it’s noticeably colder here in April. Perhaps it’s due to the Adriatic sea influences, but we questioned the wisdom of leaving the warm bosom Sicily so quickly. Perhaps we should have staid there another few weeks before Puglia had warmed up enough. Oh well, at least we brought warm layers to wear under our windbreakers.
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