And by Capri, I mean Pompeii

When I wake up the following morning (today!) I am determined to make something of the day. While it was kind of nice to not have an agenda yesterday, I can also tell I’m feeling restless. So I pry myself out of bed at 10am (aren’t you proud?) and am out the door by 10:30. I’ve actually planned enough time to a) get breakfast b) get cash and c) get to the ferry on time.

However, when I walk outside, it’s raining. Booo. This does not bode well for riding a chair lift over the island to see it in all its glory. I head to the TI to confirm that it’s a bad idea to go to Capri today and the girl there recommends I try tomorrow instead. Besides, I can take all my bags with me and go straight from Capri to Naples. Seems like just as good of an idea as going from Pompeii to Naples (which was my original plan), so I decide to just switch them around. I will see Pompeii today and Capri tomorrow.

If you don’t already know, Pompeii is an ancient city that was completely engulfed when Mt. Vesuvius blew and covered the entire city in lava and ash, killing all its residents and freezing the moment in history. They have since excavated it, and the product is quite the sight to see.

I wasn’t necessarily interested in ancient remains, but Rick gives it three triangles (his highest rating) so I figured it was worth a shot. When I arrived, I opted not to get the audio guide as a) I was already paying 11 EU just to get in and b) Rick had a self-guided tour. And I’m learning that as long as I have some information about a place, I’m usually satisfied. It’s when I know nothing about it I feel like it’s a waste. So RS is good enough for me.

The self-guided tour is actually excellent (except for one navigational error that lasted at least 20 minutes) and I take my time combing through the ruins. The tour even finishes with a big theatre, a little theatre and an amphitheatre; you know I loved that. (Here are some highlights for your viewing pleasure.)
Check out the volcano in the background: that's what decimated the city in the first place.

After the ruins, (which I’d only rate as two triangles, btw) I was feeling so good about being such a good tourist (and the day had gotten so nice!) I contemplated trying to squeeze Capri in today. But alas, it was almost 4:00 and I only had about an hour of sun left. There was just no way to make it work.

I kill some time in the afternoon with the internet, getting some gelato as a pre-dinner snack and some free munchies at a nearby bar. Finally I head to Luigi’s for dinner (Franco told me the day before he would be closed today). But when I get there (a full hour after his opening time) there is no one there. Rats. Do you mean to tell me I have to find someplace new?? Boo! (Hiss, even.)

So I try the next place on Rick’s list, but it’s only okay. I have the pizza, but I don’t finish. I head back to Luigi’s and now he’s there. (Augh.) So I pop in to say hello and buy a bunch of wine from him because, well, I like him and Franco, and it’s a good deal. I take the wine home, check my email to see if my Positano friend has responded (he has, but isn’t sure if he is available – so basically, he hasn’t), and feel like it’s too pathetic to spend my last night in Sorrento in my room with my computer, so I head back out.

I don’t know what I’m going to do or where I’m going to go, but I’m starting to feel a little sorry for myself as it’s been two whole days without any social interaction (I think I scheduled a wee bit too long in Sorrento…either that or I’m just ready to come home).

I find myself at the English Pub where I had my tea way back at the beginning of the week when I was feeling terrible. The waiter (Ali from Morroco) remembers me and immediately, I’m already glad I came.

Turns out I’m the only person in the bar, but I don’t care. I chat it up with all three of the people on staff and spend a few hours laughing the time away. They educate me about how Italian men think (only about sex) and inform me that I’ve been “wasting my time” while in Italy (because I’m not having sex at every opportunity). I try to argue that I’ve been enjoying the food and the company, but Raffale (the old man of the group) isn’t convinced: I’ve wasted my time. Hahahhaah!

In the end my two glasses of wine and toasted sandwich are free. They make me promise to come back when its warm and I tell them I’ll do my best (I would certainly love it!) I saunter back to my hostel and watch the end of Gladiator* in Italian with the concierge. All in all, a pretty good day.

*Speaking of Gladiator, did you know that the little boy who plays Russell Crowe’s son in the movie is the same little boy from Life is Beautiful? True story.

Oh Bother…

When I woke up after 12 (!) the next afternoon, all I can think is, “Oh bother.” Something is definitely off with my sleep and it’s affecting my motivation. I think perhaps in reality, I’m ready to be home. I’m ready to see familiar faces. I’m ready to…sit on a couch and watch a movie. I know I only have a few days left here in Italy and I really ought to enjoy them….but something in me is just ready to come home.

Nevertheless, I set about trying to visit Capri. I consult the timetable but since it is off-season, the ferry is so infrequent, I’d hardly have the chance to enjoy the island before the sun set. Thus I resolve to go tomorrow and hang around Sorrento instead.

As you can imagine, this being my third? fourth? day in Sorrento, it yields very little in the way of adventures. I walk around, I mope because none of the stores are open (it’s during the dead zone) and berate myself for not getting up earlier.

I try to make the best of it by listening to some Britney Spears on my ipod while I walk around town, pretending that I too am famous with an entourage doing choreographed steps behind me and that everyone wants to be me, but this only servers to perk me up for a little while. Eventually, I’m Jonesin’ for some company.

Unfortunately there is not much to be done about it tonight, so I resolve to email my new friend from Positano to see if he wants to hang out tomorrow and I spend the evening with David Copperfield instead.

The only real thing worth mentioning about the evening is that when I went back to Franco’s for dinner (I had missed two nights! How did that happen??) I met not only some other Rick Steves’ travelers (they were doing his recommended 3 week tour) but I a also met two gentlemen from Russia. They were in Italy for a work event, but doing some traveling on their own. They were actually the department head and a student teacher of laser technology at their university.

After briefly chatting, they invited me to sit with them during their meal and share their wine. When I told them I was from Washington, the department head said he had only been to a small town in Washington, perhaps I had heard of it: Bellingham. Hahahahhahah! Yes, I’ve heard of it ☺ Just when you’re feeling the world is so big and too much to contemplate, you’re reminded of what a small place it truly can be.

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.

Amalfi Coast...

The next day I do indeed talk myself into visiting the Amalfi Coast...unfortunately I'm so tired, I'm hardly able to get myself out the door by 11:30. Nevertheless, I make my way to the bus station and learn that I've missed the bus by about 17 minutes. Rats. The next bus isn't until 12:30, so I have no choice but to grab a quick snack (tomato and mozzarella sandwich) and wait.

As I'm eating my sandwich in the sun, enjoying the relaxed nature of my day, I notice an uncomfortable pain in my gut. Hmm, this is new...I figure it can't really be good for what I hear is a white-knuckled ride of the coast but...not much to be done about it. I keep eating my sandwich and just try to ignore it.

But by 12:20 it becomes apparent to me that I simply cannot ignore this new pain and I MUST make haste to the nearest restroom. With teeth and cheeks clenches (both sets) I go straight for the train station. I ask the gentleman at the newspaper stand where the bathroom is and he tells me it's upstairs. I RUN up the stairs but don't see it. I ask the waitress in the café and she tells me it is on the other side of the platform. Dilemma: don't have a ticket; NEED to use the restroom. In the end, I sneak through the turnstyle and hustle to the bathroom. I have to pay 50¢, but don't care in the least. I walk/run to the stall, close the door and take a look at my throne. Oh my gosh, I'm having an actual nightmare. I am on the verge of very literally (prepare yourselves) crapping my pants and not only is there no toilet seat, there is also no toilet paper. However, I very quickly rationalize that it's either deal with no toilet paper in a moment, or deal with some nasty-ass pants right now. Obviously, I choose the former.

After a few horrifying moments (when I can again think clearly) it occurs to me that I have kleenex in my bag (thank you Diana!!). That seriously could have been the worst day of my life, but fortunately, it's now okay.

After my nightmare-come-true experience, I have to run back through the station to make my bus on time. When I get there the driver is chatting outside the bus with some kids - whew! I'm good to go (in all senses of the word).

The drive there (as promised by Rick Steves and my friend Erin from Cinque Terre round 1) is absoultely wonderful. The first stop is Positano, but I'm so enjoying the scenary, I decide to stay on the bus until Amalfi Town (town #2). Total ride time is about 90 minutes and when we pull into Amalfi, it's not a moment too soon. Again I make a bee-line for the toilet. There's another 50¢ down the pipes, but I DON'T CARE (this time they have toilet paper and soap at the sink, woo hoo!)

After acquainting myself with the facilites, I wander around town. Unfortunately, I did not think about the fact that my arrival time (about 2:00) was during the heart of the dead-zone. Only a few shops are open. But truthfully, I wasn't in a shopping mode anyway, and I'm content to wander. I check the schedule for the next bus, make YET ANOTHER trip to the bathroom (I've never had troubles like this before; to all of you out there with chronic butt troubles, you officially have my heartfelt sympathies), and get back on the bus. I'm slightly nervous because my last round between trips to the loo was less than an hour, but I figure I can make it by sheer force of will, if nothing else.

The trip home was BEAUTIFUL (and uneventful, if you know what I mean). Check out some of the views:


Once I'm home, I decide to hit up Franco's son's wine bar for dinner. He has a deal where you get tastes of 5 wines plus snacks. If he's anything like his father, I'm sure I'll be well fed. I arrive not long after 6:00 and I'm his only customer. Luigi talks my ear off and indeed keeps the food coming at a steady rate (including not only a quiché, but a plate of meats and cheeses, a salad, bread AND a full plate of pasta). By the time I leave, I'm not only a wee-bit snockered, but stuffed to the rafters. Perhaps all this good food will fix my, ahem, digestive issues....

Takin’ It Easy

The next day I decide to wander around town and get a feel for Sorrento during the day. I try to scout out a place for my breakfast, but the decision seems overwhelming and I find myself just stopping at a particularly nondescript bar simply because I’m tired. I try to spend a little time with Rick, sketching out my final week, but I lose interest quickly. I just can’t do it. What’s with me?

I try to find the TI, but discover it is closed on Sundays. Hmph. I wander a bit further down and find a spectacular view. Ahh, now this I know what to do with! I sit and enjoy the water for a while, but I am soon restless and heading back to the main square. Along the way I find a park, so I snap a few pictures. But all the while, I’m just becoming more and more exhausted.

I spot an English pub and decide it would be a good place to camp out with my computer for a while, so I order some lunch and some tea and stay put. This suits me well and after a few hours, my mood has definitely improved. I decide to head back to my room to drop off my computer before venturing to dinner.

But by the time I get to my room I’m really not feeling well. And when I walk in, I discover someone else’s stuff is also now in the room. Great – a roommate. Fortunately she’s not here at the moment, so I head to the bathroom to see if I can instigate feeling better. Unfortunately I don’t accomplish anything other than positive self-talk and eventually come back out.

Shortly after I do, my roomie, Patricia comes in. She is from Singapore and speaks excellent English. She too is on a long holiday (seven weeks) and is spending one week in Italy. She’ll be in Sorrento for two nights. We chat for a while and she tells me she is going to check out the Amalfi Coast tomorrow. I internally cringe because I know I should be doing some sight-seeing as well, but I just don’t feel like it. But perhaps I can talk myself into seeing Amalfi tomorrow….

In the mean time, my stomach has relented a bit, and even though I don’t “feel” it, I know I’m hungry. So I tell Patricia bye-for-now and head out for dinner. Before I know it, I’m at the doorstep of last night’s restaurant. Might as well give it another shot.

As soon as I walk in, I’m glad I did. Everyone is surprised to see me again and very excited that I’m back. This time I really do order the gnocchi and my waiter friend brings me TWO toasty, tomoato-y bread things instead of one. Yes, a very good decision. After the meal comes my limoncello again and this time my waiter (Franco) chats with me for about 30 minutes. I learn all about how this is his restaurant, his son runs a wine bar downstairs, he also rents out rooms, and how he loves Rick Steves (“Very good man!!”). His English isn’t perfect, but where it muddles into Italian, I definitely get te gist of it. He asks about where I am staying and why am I traveling alone (this is actually a popular question). When I tell him I might venture to Naples this week, he gets very protective and gives me some very serious warnings about how to be safe while I’m there. I ask him if it is better that I don’t go. No, no – he says, you must see Napoli, just be safe.

After this I know I’ll be eating dinner here every night, how can I not??

Dinner in Sorrento

When I arrived in Sorrento and got off the train, I was so relieved I hadn’t been mugged (Naples has a terrible reputation and I had to switch trains from the main line to a small commuter) that probably any town would have looked like gold to me. But I stand by my original analysis: Sorrento is a clear winner.

From the train station I walked through town, taking in the zillion picturesque shops along the main drag, until I found the hostel. Technically this place calls itself a hostel, but when I walked in, it was more like a 4-star hotel. The glass door slid open to reveal a marble-tiled reception area complete with plush couches and a suit-wearing concierge. “Uhh, do you have a bed available for tonight?”

A few moments later I was standing in my new, tiny room complete with its own bathroom and a list of the spa treatments in my hand. My 20EU had really gone a long way! The bed was a bunk bed, but, at least for tonight, I had the luxury of the room to myself. So I settled in, made my bed, and directed my steps back toward town. It had been a long train ride and even though my stomach wasn’t 100% yet, I knew I needed to eat.

I set my steps directly toward the first non-splurge food listing Rick had. When I find it, I know I’m in the right place. A short, slender, fatherly-type man greets me immediately and lets me choose a table. As soon as I’m seated, he brings me bread, olive oil, vinegar, and balsamic vinegar. I’m in the mood for gnocchi, but when I see seafood risotto on the menu, I order it on an impulse instead. I throw in a fresh salad of tomatoes as well and eagerly await my food.

I keep myself more than occupied with my bread and cute, old man brings me a fat slice of soft, toasted bread with minced tomatoes and garlic hot on top. Mmm! Soon my food comes out and I dig in. Everything is delicious and my enjoyment of it is hindered only by my observation of a table of two Italian gals not far away.

Part way through my meal, I notice that one is speaking in a lowish voice, while the other is laughing and laughing and all the while they are stealing looks at me. Even though I don’t know what she’s saying, it’s clear they’re laughing at me. I feel extremely self-conscious, but I don’t know what I could possibly be doing that would solicit such malicious attention, so I try to ignore them. But at one point I look up and they’re both looking intently right at me. So I stop and look back. It is almost to the point that I’m about to say, “What is your problem?” and walk over there, ready to start a cat-fight, but they finally look away.

Needless to say I was a little uneasy for the rest of my meal, but I tried to simply ignore them. I was in Italy with a great meal in front of me and I wasn’t going to let two stupid girls ruin that (especially because I had NO idea why they would be so interested in me). Eventually they finish their meal and leave and I’m so relieved I can actually feel my body relax at the lack of their presence. But I too am essentially finished with my meal and before long I request the bill. When it comes, it is served to me along with a small portion of limoncello – a lemon liquor that is a favorite in Italy and made right here in Sorrento.

Being as this was my first taste ever, I was quite excited. I took a sip and as I held it on my tongue, I was surprised to find it quite sweet: delicious indeed! But then I let it roll to the back of my mouth to swallow and – yow! Boy is it ever sour! The experience could not be any more authentically lemon. In fact, it is such a thorough demonstration of flavor, I felt as though I could taste the peel on my breath as I exhaled.

On the whole I’m pleased both with dinner and my first limoncello and tell my waiter as much as I make my way to the door. Despite the mean girls, it’s been a good first night in Sorrento.

Sorrento: Safe Arrival

I’ve only been here about 10 seconds, but I love it already! Woo-hoo!

And, I want a Vespa.

(More tomorrow! And we're almost to real time, yea!!)