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Italy


This story first appeared in 'Surf Session' magazine in 2001
CLICK HERE for photographs from this trip. (opens in new window)

"I may not look like a Libyan, but really all of the people of the Mediterranean are the same, we've all come from the same place." Emiliano Cataldi is a 26 year old surfer from Ostia, a coastal suburb of Rome. He's a good surfer, represented Italy in the last world amateurs and competed on the EPSA circuit. He travels a lot, always for surf, and he says that he'll move away from Rome when he finds the right place, but for now he's happy were he is, and I could tell from talking with him that wherever he eventually does end up he'll always remember his Mediterranean roots. And it's easy to see why, Ostia, where he lives, is a clean and well ordered place, a typical slice of modern suburbia that you may at first be tempted to call dull, but on my first morning in Italy Emi took me to see something just a few minutes away from his home that no middle class suburb of Paris or London can match. Left open and exposed to the sun and the rain I found a headless statue older than any nation and a mosaic depicting a god so ancient that he no longer exists. The Eternal City is not a normal city and the Mediterranean is not a normal surf destination.


Like many surfers I always thought that the idea of surfing in the Mediterranean was a bit of a joke, to me the Mediterranean meant calm beaches and Greek temples, but this didn't prevent a nagging curiosity from making me perk my ears up whenever Mediterranean surf cropped up in conversation. Nor did it stop me day-dreaming of the waves that might occasionally break on all those picture perfect beaches seen on the postcards, but in the end it's probably nothing more than a healthy dose of romance that is leading me to explore the four corners of the sea where all our lives began. And where better place to start than in the city that's changed the world more times than it cares to remember.


Rome is stunning and its contribution to the world impossible to overestimate. On my first evening in the city I sat with Ian and Ben, two English friends, on a grass verge overlooking the Coliseum, at whose base stood a group of today's Romans, dressed as yesterdays and gathered around them were Japanese tourists eager to have their photos taken with the Gladiators. And as I tried to soak it all in I was left wondering if it was possible for anyone to make sense of a city where bunches of flowers are still left on Julius Caesar's funeral pyre and lions tore people to pieces for a crowds entertainment? The next morning we were at the beach early, the sun still hadn't come up and I wasn't happy about being dragged out of bed for 2ft waves. Nik Zanella and EMI Mazzoni from Surf Ne
ws magazine and Robby Montanari from the surfcorner.it website were our guides through Italy and they were ecstatic about the conditions. The three of them and Emiliano were in their wetsuits and into the water before the English half of the group had even woken up enough to start moaning. Eventually I followed them into the surf and I have to admit I was surprised, it wasn't epic or anything, but it was fun, clean right handers provided quick tubes in the shorebreak and the atmosphere, though competitive, was friendly. Between sets I got talking to Emiliano about what I'd seen in Rome the day before, I hoped he'd shed some kind of light onto it, but all he said was "Some surfers have perfect waves on their doorsteps, I have things like that." The swell had died by lunch time and no-one expected it to pick up again, I started to see how on the ball you had to be to get waves in the Mediterranean, where a matter of hours can make all the difference between getting pitted and getting barred. As we got changed out of our wetsuits Emiliano continued with his thoughts on Rome, "It's strange, having all this history around me doesn't affect me on a day to day basis, but I'm always conscious of it and every time I see something like the Coliseum it's as exciting for me as the first time." He paused for a while before continuing "You know, when surfers ask me about my country, I tell them that Italy is a great place for traveling and that we have so much to show the world, but if you're a surfer then bring a board with you, because, well, maybe you'll get some waves as well" It's good advice and I wondered how many surfers over the years had walked around the sites of Rome and not had a clue about what was taking place on the beaches just down the road? And it's not as if surfing in Italy is a new thing. Also at the beach that morning were a couple of Rome's original surfers, Roberto and Santino, they both started surfing these beaches way back in the early '80's and they've watched the Rome surf scene grow from the days when people rode waves on planks of wood, broken windsurfers and over inflated air beds to the healthy industry of today, an industry with its own local brands and a competitive contest scene. Roberto spoke about how, back in the early days, there were many more spots around Rome and better quality waves, but artificial reefs built to protect the beaches from erosion killed off many of the spots and pushed the ever increasing crowds into fewer surf spots. He shakes his head a little as he laments about how much better the old days were, "Today it's nearly impossible to get a wave to yourself around Rome" Santino doesn't share this view "Yeah, the old days were good, but it's much easier now, before if we wanted a board or something, we had to go all the way to Biarritz to get it, Biarritz was like a little California for us, but now we've got everything available right here". And with Italy's current fascination with "extreme" sports of all kinds, the surf scene in Rome looks set to continue growing. Already all of the country's best surfers have equipment sponsors, but in a couple of generations time Emiliano thinks that the top Italian surfers will be making a proper living through their surfing, but at the same time he says this prospect is having a negative affect, "Everything about Rome is market and money orientated and sometimes this affects the surf scene here too much. Today some of the groms want to get better at surfing not just for surfing's sake, but for the sponsorship, they just want the stickers on their boards." He went onto tell me how this wasn't the case all over Italy and that much of the country is still well behind the Rome scene, "Going around Italy is strange, every area is so different, sometimes you could be on the other side of the world from Rome".


We traveled southwards past fortified villages and fields of buffalo and finally boarded a night ferry in Naples that carried us in the most traditional of fashions across the dark Mediterranean to Palermo, the sultry and moody capital of Sicily. Outside the port a couple of local surfers were waiting for us, Diego Ruggiero and Mariano Randazzo, also joining us for this stage of the journey was one of Italy's best surfers, Franseco Palattella. It was only just getting light as we drove through the crumbling streets of the city, a thunder storm was clearing away and their was a damp, almost sub-tropical feel to the air. Straight away I knew I was going to like Sicily and I wasn't going to have been the first, over time everyone has been here, Greeks, Romans, Phoenicians, Arabs and Spanish are just some, and all have left their mark on this island that EMI, recalling his previous visits, described as, "The rose of Italy, a melting pot of cultures that makes it the most Mediterranean of all places", whilst Nik simply called it another continent.


That first day was flat, as was the following day and the one after that. We were expecting swell and every day the Internet check gave us cause for hope for the following morning, but in the end nothing came of it. In other parts of the world this would have made me frustrated, but here I was happy to just go with the flow and enjoy the sunshine and the warmth of the people. One afternoon as we were sat eating ice-creams in a small south coast fishing town a motorbike pulled up and a north African looking man leapt off and ran up to us, pumping all our hands in turn and kissing Nik and EMI on the cheeks. It turned out that he was the only surfer within miles and when he'd heard that we were in town he'd come looking for us. Within minutes he was scrawling us a map to his newest surf discovery on the back of an old paper plate and then he jumped back on his bike and disappeared off again. We later learned that every surf he has is a solo session and I couldn't help but wonder at how strange it must be, being such an isolated surfer and developing in your own fashion, creating surfing for yourself.


The flat spell continued and we drove all over the coastline checking out potential spots, sometimes we went to breaks the fifty or so locals already knew, sometimes to places they didn't. And on cliffs above one empty beach we found the signs of past raiders, piles of shattered Greek pillars strewn across a rough grassy headland from amongst which rose a single solitary temple of golden rock. I cannot imagine a more romantic surf spot.


On other days we just hung out with the surfers of Palermo, they've just got their first surf shop and already its been boosting the fledgling local surf scene, bringing in new ideas and acting as a meeting place for the community. Late one evening we drove through the back streets of Palermo to go and check it out and inside, behind the clothing racks of all the multi-national surf corporations we found the local grom's lounging around on bean bags and settees, flicking through magazines, watching videos on a big screen TV and speculating about what the surf will be like the following morning. Intentionally or not, a little bit of that original '60's surf shop vibe seemed to be being kept alive on a Palermo back street. I took this opportunity to get chatting with some of the groms about what the surf shop has brought them, "Everything changed here after the shop opened last year, the scene has become more organized, and we have more connections with the mainland surfers now. We've even had a contest" They went on to tell me about how the local community as a whole views surfing, "When other Sicilians first saw us surfing, they thought we were going fishing and sometimes when we surf in bad weather they call the coastguard, once a helicopter even came for us"!


All through that evening we listened to people telling us how there was surf coming and tomorrow would be the day. The next morning was predictably flat. There was though a change in the air and a wind started to blow up from the south. All day the Italian surf grapevine was in overdrive, people in Tuscany were texting people in Rome who in turn were calling us, and as everyone's excitement grew so to did the storm building up at sea. It ploughed into us with such force that the rain seemed to simply explode out of the sky, within a matter of minutes, Emi's "most Mediterranean of places" had turned into a vivid reminder of a Cornish winter. Now we knew that there would be waves by the next day and so to celebrate the coming swell we went out to eat that night with a group of local surfers and, as the courses kept coming, we talked about Sicilian life. Diego loves living in Sicily, says he's Sicilian before Italian, but he knows the island has problems that no amount of sunshine or a relaxed lifestyle can hide, "The Mafia is the best organized thing in Sicily. It's everywhere, commerce, drugs and prostitution, but not yet surfing". He smiles as he says it and I can't help but laugh as I think of the consequences if you dropped in on a surfing Godfather. Francesco takes a more serious view of it, he actually thinks that surfing could help the local kids, "Life is hard in southern Italy, a lot of the kids live in the streets but if they could get into surfing then they'd be surrounded by nature more and that keeps your mind clean and away from this Mafia shit"


It was still dark when we woke up and the storm still raging outside our window. There were waves, that was for sure, I could see great mountains of white water throwing themselves over the wall of the nearby harbour, but the conditions couldn't have been any worse and I would have been happy to have stayed in bed, but the Italians would have none of it, after all the surf was pumping. Twenty minutes later I was sitting in the front seat of my hire car peering past the flapping windscreen wipers at some black dots far out to sea. It was the Italians, and as I warmed myself against the car heater, one of them turned around and dropped into an ugly, grey closeout. Nik wasn't quite quick enough to his feet and the wave sucked him over and swept him back into the beach. He scrambled up onto the debris littered sand and ran over to me in the car. "Are you coming in? It's a little bit windier than what you'd call glassy, but it's OK" He turned and darted off up the jetty, the spray and rain quickly hiding him from me. Prior to that moment I'd been wondering what on earth I was doing there and contemplating all those days at home when I haven't bothered to go surfing because it was a bit cloudy or a hundred and one other reasons that made it slightly less than perfect. And in just one sentence Nik had made me feel like the spoilt little boy who didn't get what he wanted for Christmas. I suited up and followed him up the jetty and into the water.


Later that morning we set off to look at some of the reefs further up the coast, the swell was a bit bigger and we found a couple of left points. Neither could be called classic, but they were a marked improvement on the mornings beach break surf. The wind had died, if only for a time, and the waves cleaned up a little. Maybe on the perfect day you'd find a long walled up left here, but no-one really knew for sure as, according to Diego, it was the first time it had been surfed. The storm came back with a vengeance that evening, but it couldn't put the Italians off, they were back in the water and trying to grab a last few waves before the light faded for the day. I thought back on something Francesco had told me "Because Sicily is so far out of the surf scene, you have to really want to surf and to be really dedicated to be a surfer here". It tied in with Emiliano's words back in Rome, "If you surf in the Med all your life then it affects your attitude and style. Your flat is our surf". It occurred to me that maybe I'd found the most devoted group of surfers in the world.


The storm died away in the night and we woke to find ourselves back in the sunny world of the Mediterranean. Down at the beach everything was still and quiet, including the surf. It was almost as if the previous days violence had never occurred, Francesco was philosophical about it even though he'd been sure today was going to be the day, "In a small sea it can get big really fast, but it can get small really fast as well". I wasn't listening though, it was sunny and I was in Italy and maybe that peak was rideable.

©Oceansurf Publications.