The End of the Road

My wife comments that I have a tendancy to book accommodations at the end of the road…..and, generally, that it rewards us.

In Sri Lanka, during travel that immediately preceded the latest terrorism in this tiny nation, our favorite stops were hard to find and wonderful to experience…..at the end of the pavement along the country’s southern coast near Tangalle, and up narrow twisting 45-degree inclines to inns over Ella and Kandy.

More recently we drove route 522 to its terminus near the tip of Italy’s toe, to Tropea, a town with dozens of small plazas and narrow intersecting cobblestone alleys atop a cliff which provides killer views of the sun setting beside the volcanic island of Stromboli; and at every meal we enjoyed the sweetest red onions we’ve ever tasted.

Even closer to the tip of the toe, in Scilla, we found an apartment in the lower level of an ancient building against which the Tyrrhenian Sea pounded all night, as it has for centuries. Above our bed was a four-foot square portal through which we crawled to a deck with two chairs situated above the ocean…..the Castle of Scilla above us to the left, small boats in front with high masts and long gang planks in search of swordfish, the coastal cliffs of Italy as far as we could see to our right and, across the alley, the finest food and wine during our first week of exploring southern Italy.

There’s probably a message here……perhaps that in travel, as in life, a little extra effort makes a big difference.

JER