Positano

I don't know if the chronic thinking-about-home I've been doing this week is messing with my sleep patterns or what, but suddenly I'm finding that it's hard to peel myself out of bed before 11:00. I guess I'll just chalk it up to preemptively adjusting to PST, but sheesh! It's sure making short-work of my days left in Italy...

In any case, the next morning I wasn't sure if I had it in me to see any other towns near Sorrento. I was just...so tired. I convinced myself to at least get out of bed and have breakfast; that I could do.

After a mediocre cappuccino, a meh brioche, and 20 minutes of the café owner talking my ear off, I was motivated to walk around. I reasoned today was a good day to do the Rick Steves' self-guided tour (I know, I've been in town three days and haven't done it yet - for shame!). Predictable for a small town, the walk was brief; enjoyable, but brief. I was near the train station, so I thought I'd check the bus timetable, just in case.

After talking with Luigi the night before, he told me that the three places I had to see while I was here were Capri, Positano, and Pompeii. Originally I'd thought perhaps today would be Capri day, but since it is off-season, the ferry schedule is infrequent and with my inclination to sleep in...there weren't many options left. (Besides, it's kind of expensive to get out there and back, so if I'm going, I'm gonna get my full day in!) Thus, my option for the day was Positano.

After consulting the bus schedule, this time I chose a departure time that got me to Positano as the dead-zone time was ending. (Genius, I know.) Even though I was getting there a bit late in the day, I reasoned that since I had already seen the drive, I could afford to come back a bit later and I wasn't really missing anything.

So I boarded the bus (this time without having to make an emergency trip to the bathroom thankyouverymuch!), popped in my ipod and watched the scenery fly by for the second time. I wasn't exactly sure where my stop was though, so I asked the bus driver and he said he would tell me. Sure: I've heard that before...

In the mean time, I made friends with the two women behind me. They were American and beautiful in a non-intimidating way. Turns out that one had been a student of the other in 6th grade!! and they were still friends. I thought that was just amazing. They too were getting off in Positano, so we stuck together.

This time the driver was good to his word and we got off at our stop no problem. As we made our way down the hill toward town, I chatted with the women (Maureen and Jane) and they gave me their remainder lunch fixin's (bread, proscutto, cheese and olives - yum!). Soon though Jane was distracted by some of the small shops and a New Yorker living in Positano who was offering his services as a guide. I was more inclined to simply wander, so I said my good-byes and continued down the hill toward the beach.

Positano is known for two things: it's beach and it's fashion boutiques. So I stopped in at a few on my way into town, but at 100 EU a pop, I decided it was too rich for my blood. Once I made it into town, I was rewarded with a fantastic view from the beach. I can see why people flock here in the summer; it must be heavenly. I copped a squat to eat my newly acquired lunch and a friendly dog nearby became my new best friend. I tried to tell him he wasn't going to get any scraps from me but, I don't think he spoke English.

So I ignored him and enjoyed the sun and the beach and the people. Since most of the shops in town were either ridiculously expensive or closed, this was pretty much my only entertainment. The next bus wasn't for a while, so I made use of the expensive internet access (with my new dog friend still at my feet, despite no food) and then gathered my things and prepared to leave.

As I was leaving the café, a group of four or five boys said, "Hi!" as I walked by. I thought this was particularly funny because they didn't say "Ciao," they said "Hi." I laughed and said "Hi" back, but I kept on walking. I snapped a few pictures of the beach (as the sun was getting close to setting) and then started to head back up the hill.

But as I went by, the same group of boys again started talking to me, asking me if I was Italian. I told them No, I'm American. One of them pipes up, "But you are a little bit, yes?" I raise my eyebrows at this and say, "Well yes actually - about 25%..." This creates a flurry of Italian comments I don't understand. The same one pipes up again, "You are also Irish, no?"

This time I'm downright shocked. "Yes, I am..." Then I smile and say, "There is one more nationality - do you think you can guess it??" Then there is a whole host of guessing from all of them: German! Spanish! English! When I feel they have exausted their resources I finally tell them, Noooo - Francese!!

The out-going one says, "No! I said that first! I said: French-German!" I laugh at his effort to be right (because he clearly said nothing of the sort) and when they invite me to sit and have a drink with them, I can't refuse.

It seems as though they are gathered because one of them (the ring-leader, as it were) is leaving for Spain tomorrow for a few months. The nature of life in Positano seems to be that you work for 12 hours a day, six days a week for six months a year: tourist season. Then....you travel. So tonight is a bit of a good-bye party for Matteo. Since they all speak English, they are kind enough to joke around in my native language so that I can at least follow the conversation. At times they switch to Italian, but I'm content to just listen.

Soon the minutes pass into hours and as I'm contemplating how Italian boys weave the concept of a fib into their flirting, I realize if I'm not careful, I'm going to miss the last bus. I express as much outloud, but they are not worried. They don't know when the bus is, but they tell me not to worry. I check the timetable anyway and there is one in 15 minutes and one in 90 minutes. I'm pretty tired, so I'm more inclined to catch the next one, but the boys are not happy to hear it. They tell me it's probably not running anyway and I should just stay.

But I make my good-byes and HAUL IT back up the hill. I do not want to miss this sucker. My lungs are burning when I make it to the top, but I don't care. It's 2 minutes before the bus is due to come and I'm happy about that. But after 15 minutes....still no bus. Rats. I can hardly rationalize that it is late, as there are essentially no passangers/stops to make it late. Well that stinks.

Fortunately the boys come up the hill in a few minutes time (I think they knew there was no bus) and offer to give me a ride. So I hop on the back of a motorbike and prepare myself for an adventure. But instead of Sorrento, he takes me to his house - he wants to get his car (too cold on a motorbike). Okay, fine by me. When we get there he says - I'm still feeling "the drink," let me just get something to eat first. Augh. Can't really argue with that, so upstairs we go.

We chat and he is kind enough to share his food with me. I can tell he is not too keen on the idea of driving to Sorrento and back, so I offer to just catch the next bus. He says he will take me to the stop and wait with me, just in case. This seems like a wise plan to me, so I agree and we head out. We're there in plenty of time so we park the car and wait. And wait. And wait. Noooo bus.

It takes some convincing (he really doesn't want to drive there and back) but I finally talk him into giving me a ride. On the way he tells me I should take his hand and tell him some nice things. I think this is hilarious, (and tell him as much) but I do it anyway - I'm thankful to be on my way home. Once I'm finished with my showering of praise he says, "Yeah, that was o-kay. I've had better." Again: hilarious.

We make the trip he claims is going to take 35 minutes in about 15 (I also got my first REAL experience of Italian Driving: scary/exhilarating. He drops me off, gives me his contact information and a very European kiss on each cheek. If I want to hang out again, I should call.

They were a fun group of guys and I think, maybe I will.