Alicudi: the kingdom of silence

    Alicudi: the kingdom of silence

    Second day of # eolietour13: off to the discovery of alicudi. We board the ferry in uncertain weather: the sun was hiding among the clouds, the wind was trying to sweep them away and the sea seemed gray and dull. In short, it is not going to be a good day.

    The strong wind suggests that I put on a sweater and as we reach our destination, I get lost in my thoughts looking at the other islands in the distance. The image of Stroboli wrapped in a blue patina that gave it an angelic tone.

    The first stop is Alicudi: we get off the ship and proceed to the small port. The gray clouds welcome us, obscuring the colors of the fishing boats lying on the sand like so many bathers looking for the sun. Suddenly I feel enveloped in deafening silence: I am not used to the absence of chaos and all this makes me feel almost in danger.

    Yes, because in Alicudi there is no space for cars, mopeds or any other noisy means of locomotion: the only "noise" of locomotion is the ticking of the mules' hooves. A return to the origins, to the past, to the essence of life and nature. There are no roads except a mule track that crowns the island: we go up the stairs and despite the clouds, we can see an unspoiled landscape between the roofs of the houses that reminds us of the landscape paintings of other times. The roofs of the houses look like containers and my intuition does not lead me astray: they were designed in such a way as to be able to collect rainwater, the only source of water for the island.

    The music produced by television breaks the silence: a reminder of the daily frenzy; a familiar sound that gets further and further away as we climb the steps of the mule track. To show us the way a blue triangle drawn on the stones that make up a small boundary cord. Everything is unharmed and immobile: the radagi cats, the plants grown in freedom, the white houses are all subjects of an era now unknown to us.

    During our walk we meet some locals who tell us about their life. The connections with the other islands only intensify with the summer: winter, however, with bad weather the connections can jump and Alicudi remains alone with its eighty inhabitants. I am stunned by their attachment to the earth: it remains there although there is no hospital; it stays there even if you can remain isolated for days.

    While I wonder about how strong the attachment to the land of these people can be, I get on the hydrofoil and leave Alicudi, with its timeless and wild charm.

    For connections and tours to discover Aeolian Islands, I advise you to contact Imperatore Travel

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