Friday, 21st November 2008
Posted by Judith on 21 Nov 2008 | Tagged as: Flying
We got a phone call from Juan to let us know that Coma Negra was on today, so we met at the bar opposite the cliff. Lluis was already there, so after a quick bit of breakfast we headed up the mountain. Considering you can see it from our house, it’s a hell of a drive. We dropped the van off in Beget and took Lluis’ 4×4 up to the top. From there it is a 20 minute hike up to the very top, which is also the border with France. It’s a 4700′ high, south-facing mountain which works best in north winds. So long as the winds are not too strong there is never, apparently, rotor. The topography of the mountains, coupled with the northerly tramuntana winds, means that for a large part of this area, it is safe to fly from southerly facing sites, even though the wind above is northerly. The same thing happens at Santa Brigida, when the tramuntana blows.
The wind was wafting up the face, but Juan and Lluis assured us that it would be better to wait until the valley heated up and the thermals became established. We saw only one bird thermalling (the others were flapping), so this seemed sensible.
Clouds started to form and this would have been the time I would have chosen to go, but I didn’t want to launch too soon and then sit in the bottom landing field whilst everyone else sky’d out. The cumulus was growing straight over the valley being fed by a thermal which was coming over the back. We knew that because a gaggle of 28 vultures came over high and thermalled to cloud base. Then the wind started to blow over the back and we realised that we would probably have to go whilst we could.
Juan and Lluis launched first and went down. I waited until a breeze came up the face and launched straight into a thermal. I was too close to the ridge to circle, so tried figures of eight. I got up about 100′, but then lost it. The sink after it was horrendous. You have to cross a ridge to get to the bottom landing, but you can land by the cars. I had agreed with Geoff that I would fly down to check it out and he would top land by the car to drive it down (to save about an hour). As I was heading out it became clear that there was no way I was going to make it across the ridge. It seemed to be rising as I was sinking towards it. It was a split second decision whether to carry on and hope for the best (with a high likelihood of being in the trees) or turning and landing (more likely crashing) in a grassy gully near the cars. I chose the grass. It wasn’t anywhere you would EVER choose to land if you had an option, but it was 2.30pm and I didn’t fancy my chances of being rescued from the middle of nowhere, up an inaccessible ridge in a tree before nightfall. I got down fine, no crash, but the glider overflew me straight into a bunch of thorny bushes and bracken, so I spent ages getting my lines out and then ages untangling them.
Geoff had to wait until it was launchable and didn’t get up. He landed by the cars and we drove down together. Still, at least we flew a new site, one we’ve been meaning to go to for, literally, years.
Still a tramuntana blowing at the coast, so another day at 
First thing this morning, a balloon floated past our balcony. Which was nice…
Having only the morning in Naples, I wanted to see the National Archaeological museum, where all the finds from Pompeii, Herculaneum and other Roman sites are held. We got up early to be able to be there at 9am, but first we had to negotiate Monday morning rush hour in Naples. A Swiss woman whom we got chatting to on Vesuvius told us that in Naples a pedestrian’s life was worthless. That is an understatement. There is a pecking order which goes something like this car > bus > moped > pedestrian. Nobody is stupid enough to ride a bicycle in Naples.
I woke up and my whole body ached. I still felt bad, and Geoff had courteously developed sympathy symptoms, although not as bad as mine. We were due to leave the hotel that morning, but considered if we shouldn’t stay. It was going to be our one chance to go up Vesuvius (no rain forecast), and this enticed me out of bed. The thought and smell of food made my stomach heave, but we made it to the train station and on to Ercolano (Herculaneum) where the Vesuvius bus leaves. Our Rough Guide is a little out of date, so we walked through Ercolano to the ruins to get the bus, only to find that the bus leaves from the train station. Modern-day Ercolano is a dump. Full of rubbish and dog crap. The route up to Vesuvisus is a national park, but you’d be forgiven for thinking it was the municipal tip. On arriving at the car park you have to pay to walk to the crater, another 800 metres, which is definitely worth it. It’s still smoking. The crater is a proper caldera and the views over the bay of Naples, Capri, etc. are breathtaking. We only got just over an hour at the top before the bus departed again and had I been feeling better we would have had more time on top, rather than me having to slowly drag myself up the hill and wasting time because of it.
The forecast was for sun in the morning, but rain in the afternoon, so climbing up Vesuvius was a non-starter. We could have gone to Herculaneum, but it’s a much smaller version of Pompeii, so we decided to go around the Amalfi coast. Amalfi is an hour and a half by bus, so we opted for Positano instead. The coast around the area is rugged mountains with few beaches. The road from Sorrento to Positano goes over a mountain and then along the coast next to a sheer drop, several hundred meters high, all the way. On the way up the mountain the bus driver would cut up other road users and then stop to spend time having loud arguments with lots of wild gesticulating. He would make up the lost time driving round the bends like a maniac. At particularly sharp bends he would hoot his horn to give oncoming cars the chance to choose between crashing into us head-on or driving themselves off the side of the cliff. It was like Alton Towers for the bargain price of 1.80 euros.