Don't pay the ferryman

"Until you get to the other side", so says the song. That is, if the ferryman shows up at all. Yikes, how it can all go so badly wrong? I had a great plan to steal a day and try and watch the final day of the Open golf. Alas it was not to be. Let me bore you with the details. 

Headed off early as usual intent on getting the ferry as per guide books. Was a bit worried about the fact that it was a Sunday but said I'd give it a go anyway. Got there after 4.5 hours delighted with myself but no sign of the ferryman. So I looked at the map, not a bridge around for miles. No choice but to head for another village that had a hostel. 

Got there after an hours walking in the midday sun. Mad dogs and Englishmen etc. Hostel there but no key. Barman opposite rang the lad Giovanni who told me I needed to go back to the ferry village, 5 kms away, pick up a key from some mystery lady and come back. I'm looking at the hostel opposite the bar, the sweat dripping off me. I said no chance but thanks. Next thing the locals in the bar get involved. They seemed to indicate that I needed to get a shave. Time for a beer to take stock. 

Decided I had to go back to another hostel as no accomodation. For miles. Just about to head off when the barman says no, a man will drive me back. Sure enough a clean shaven man shows up and drives me back to a place I was three hours ago. The hostel is great and I meet the mayor on his bike. I also notice a load of trucks and a large stage. Big outdoor gig tonight. Am mulling over having a few. It's been a while. Also Lynch is bragging about his pool near Venice. 'Twould drive a fella mad. Here's a photo of Danilo, the ferryman, taken a day later. He's very proud of that book, also shown. And a big rugby fan, to boot.