Purple Travel
[March 29 2020]
A Trip to Stromboli, Italy
Stromboli, A Cool Molten Mouth
Rest ashore, a ferry steams towards Stromboli. A speck in the Aeolian islands, and thrust in the Tyrrhenian, a far-flung atmosphere stuck in time and surrounded by black sand beaches on its contours; deep green, yellow, orange and tan hues of rock and flora in its body swirling around an active volcano that beckons a walk to view its molten mouth.
I was first invited to Stromboli by a friend from Milano, who raved about the island’s modest beauty, unprecedented pulpo dishes and painstakingly relaxing aura that breaths beauty by day and is faintly illuminated by the stars at night. This time around, I arrived with my wife Maya, who was also looking for a far-flung respite of sea, sun and surrender to a digital detox surrounded by the Mediterranean.
If you want to saunter around town once the sun goes down, you shouldn’t expect street lights or any lights at all as a rule of thumb. As unavoidably cheesy as it may sound, on Stromboli, only the stars from the sky can guide you home.
There was little to do on Stromboli in mid-August other than to enjoy a solid night’s sleep; enjoy a simple breakfast of breads, fruit, coffee — or brioche with gelato; endless forays along the black-sooted beaches into the sea, and then some. A good book, a scooter ride across the island. A four-hike up the volcano (for those in healthy form and if conditions allow), long sips of local wine, a browse through the book shop. The smell of wood-burning that seems to release one’s pheromones in the most innocent of ways, evoking that scent of summer I grew up within the northeast, it is wonderfully harmful but a guilty pleasure at that.
The beauty and charm of this powerful island of peace and comfort is exactly the reason one would be there. Nightlife-fiends need to turn their boat around. Stromboli is for the soul-feeders, a place to breathe and truly practice the art of relaxation. Give in, tune in and dip out.
By Ross Belfer
