Exploring Positano

Sue woke me up at around 9 again. She’d been sick through the night and was still sick, which was rather worrying. Matt had replied to the text, and asked Sue to poke me in the arm. So she did. Facebook eat your heart out. Camillo and I went down for the same breakfast as the day before, and brought Sue back a croissant and some of the bread.

After we got back upstairs, we talked about trying to get to Capri. The weather wasn’t brilliant, but we were all keen to try to get there. Sue didn’t feel like she could get very far away from the bathroom, and wanted us to go without her. We saw what looked like a tall ship come into the bay, which generated some excitement.

I went across the road to the little shop and got some apricots, a peach and half a rockmelon, because I fancied some, and because I thought it might give Sue something harmless that she could keep down. I had the lovely lady who ran the Villa, Juliana, help me buy the fruit because I didn’t know whether I had to buy the whole box of apricots or whether I could just pick what I wanted. She said to just pick them up and take them to the counter. So I did. It was rather painless really. She asked me whether we were going out, and I said that Sue was sick. Someone asked her while we were talking whether we wanted the bathroom cleaned, and I said I didn’t think so.

I went back up and Sue still didn’t feel any better, so Camillo and I decided to go for a wander around Positano. Sue really wanted to buy some ceramics with their wedding present money, but Camillo refused to choose something for her. That gave me my chance to get her something myself. I felt like I knew enough about what she wanted to choose something she’d like.

We walked down to the town, with me taking careful notice of the promising-looking ceramics shops. There weren’t as many as I’d thought. Most of the ones I’d seen were in Amalfi. We got down to the beach and Camillo checked what time the boats were going to Capri. It turned out that there weren’t any more boats that day. Many had been cancelled altogether and the rest only had one boat a day. We kept going past the restaurant we’d eaten in the night before because we could see a path. It wound around the cliff, going past an amazing round castle thing that seemed to be someone’s house. We went through a very rainforesty bit and came out at the entrance to a tunnel marking the beginning of Hotel Pupetto and Ristorante. We chose to take the steps down towards the water and came around a corner to see a beach with long, low huts set up with restaurants and bars inside. For some unknown reason, they were flying Australian flags. We walked down and someone offered us a menu, but we said we didn’t want to eat, and kept walking.

We didn’t get much further, as there were gates at the far end of the beach, so turned back and went up the same set of stairs. This time we went through the tunnel, but came across a dead end one way, and road back down to the beach the other. We conceded that it was the end of our adventure and headed back. It was around 1pm by now, so we went to the bar where we’d had beers the first night and got some more of those pidda things with mozzarella, ham and pomodoro. Except this one was bigger. I also got some banana gelato, and we found a shady place to sit (it was fine and hot by now) and eat. The food was very good, and the gelato was spectacular. I tried to negotiate with Camillo to reimburse them for accommodation, but he wouldn’t engage and said that if I could persuade Sue that he’d agree to take some money. I knew that would be a lost cause.

We walked back up and I stopped at the only ceramics shop that had seemed promising, and bought Sue a nice ceramic plate for €30. I hope she likes it. I was getting a bit edgy about time, and checked the bus times back to Sorrento. The next one was 3.10pm, which gave me just under an hour.

We found Sue asleep in the villa. I told her about the plate I’d bought, and she seemed very touched. She wanted to see it, but I thought that since they’d already sent so much back home that it would be better for me to take it and send it on later. I also negotiated to give them the difference between what they’d paid for accommodation for the two of them and what they’d paid with me there. Hurrah. Sue saw reason because she recognised how she’d feel in my situation. I packed up, watched the last small shuttle bus to the top of the hill go past, and set out walking to the Sorrento bus stop. Camillo came with me, and we hoofed it up the hill, with him insisting on carrying my bag.

We made it with about 10 minutes to spare, and realised that all the shops were closed for siesta, so I couldn’t buy a ticket. I asked all the English speakers I could find, and they’d all been clever enough to buy tickets in advance. A nice Irish couple spoke to me for a while, and the woman gave me her validated tickets from the journey there. Camillo thought I should just barge my way onto the bus and not offer any sort of explanation. As the bus pulled up, he said goodbye and headed back down the hill.

I got on, and sure enough, the driver was completely unconcerned about tickets. This may have been to do with the fact that the bus was packed and there were real concerns that not everyone would get on. We managed to get on (the Irish lady passed me her validated ticket just after she’d got past the driver) and they stood/sat in the back stairwell, and I stood in the aisle in front of them. It wasn’t too bad. The trip itself was fine. I had the back of a chair to hold onto, and could see where we were going quite well. About half way to Sorrento it started pouring, and rain came through the sunroof until someone closed it. People got off gradually, until we got to the station as the last stop. I spotted the airport bus straight away, got off the Positano bus and got straight on the other, paying my €7 and getting the front seat.

The trip back to Napoli was pleasant. The driver was quite attractive and was doing this very funny thing where he bowed to all the tour drivers and then grinned to himself. Just after half way there, this extremely stylish woman got on and sat next to me and the driver was speaking to her. Oh well, can’t win ‘em all.

We got to the airport with a minimum of fuss, and I thanked the driver. He said ‘Prego!’ in return. Because I was there three hours before my flight, I had to wait to check in. I got sick of waiting, so went upstairs to get some dinner. I asked for risotto with tomato and pesto completely in Italian, and understood when he asked me if I wanted cheese. I said ‘Si.’ Go me. I went back downstairs, and found that check-in had opened and the line up was horrendous. I was put in boarding group D, and had to put up with the most annoying, whingeing Pom couples I’ve ever seen. They kept pushing in, until someone got sick of them and told them off. I went back upstairs and got some tiramisu gelato (last one [sigh!]) and headed towards security.

I got through with little fuss, then to passport control. One of the whingeing Pom couples had a stand-up in the middle of the airport. We took our seats near the gate, and got called to the bus in boarding group order. It was dodgy, because the bus door I was near was right near the stairs of the plane, and so I got caught in a crush and left behind so took possibly the LAST seat on the plane. I didn’t mind, except that my bag was near the back of the plane, but I got a window seat near the front. We must have sat there for about 15 minutes while the luggage was loaded in – I accepted the fact that I would miss the NE bus I’d booked a ticket for at this point.

We took off, I listened to my five George Harrison songs, then began on John Lennon, falling asleep about halfway through it. I’m not quite sure when I woke up again, and whether I’d only missed half the CD or one and a half, but the flight seemed quite short. The landing into Stansted was faultless, but it was cold and raining (6 degrees!). I piled as many layers on as possible, but was still cold.

I got through passport control and made a dash for the bus stop, but the next one wasn’t until 12.05. I only had half an hour to wait, but I was cold and tired. The driver let me get on the next bus, and we were in Cambridge quite soon. I walked home and crashed into bed.

Amalfi, Atrani, and Ravello

Sue woke me up just before 9, and we got ready and went down for breakfast at about 9.40. We bolted a very nice espresso-style coffee with boiling milk, some thin, cold, crunchy toast and a delicious croissant filled with chocolate. Yum! We ran down many stairs to get to the boat and managed to buy tickets and get on in time. It cost us €6 and took about 20 minutes to get to Amalfi. The town looked lovely, but we didn’t really have a plan, so we just walked off to the right, and by accident found ourselves on the way to Atrani, including through the narrow, scary tunnel with the cars and buses etc. At the end of the tunnel, we were directed to some steps going down to the beach, then walked through an arch into the village itself. There was a beautiful piazza with some lovely cafes.
We sat at one and Sue and I had a wonderful coffee mousse thing in a dessert cup – Sue called this a granita. It was truly delicious, though I didn’t eat the coffee beans floating in it. We got a fantastic biscuit with it too.

We’d read in the oracle that there was a way to walk back to Amalfi through the back alleys, so went in search of the way. I went in one direction and a nice man called out, telling me to keep walking the way I was going. I asked if you could get to Amalfi that way, and he said yes. I called Sue and Camillo and we set off through a wonderful maze of steps and corners and alleys, following the few signs and asking a few people as well. People’s front doors were hidden in the wall. Imagine living there! There was one lovely open section right up above the road, and then we went back through more alleys, encountering a sea breeze, and Amalfi itself soon after.

We had a walk through the shops, Sue and I each bought some shoes, and went into the Sant’Andrea Cathedral, at the top of its amazing steps. It was fascinating, and very beautiful. Some stupid people were taking photos with the flash, but there were not really any signs. We only knew you weren’t supposed to because Sue had asked. We met Camillo again and headed back to the harbour. I went to buy something to eat, when Willy of Willy’s Information stopped me and asked if I was a backpacker. We got talking and it turned out he was from near Manchester and had spent 2 ½ months in Australia. He was trying to drum up business for his pension but gave us some good advice on buses. He was quite attractive, and wearing a good Aussie hat. I got a mozzarella and ham pidda thing with chocolate gelato which was very good.

We found the bus to Ravello, with Willy’s help, and got on it. The trip was winding but pleasant. We walked into the square and I just took photos in all directions. It was stunning. We got some gelato – pistachio for me – and had a wander. There were a lot of ceramics shops that were lovely and I bought an alabaster egg, but couldn’t find a stand for it.

We walked up some steps (majority ruled – Sue didn’t want to, but Camillo and I did), saw some grapevines, and a weird church/museum thing at the top that Sue went into. I could hear piano music, but it turned out to be piped.

Sue and I paid €5 to go in something I thought was Villa Cimbrone, but was in fact Villa Rufolo, which was an interesting house with nice gardens and a brilliant view, but certainly not worth the €5. We caught the bus back down, standing all the way, and got back at about 4.30. I went to put my feet in the water (no time for a swim) and we went to the boat wharf. The company we had come with didn’t have a box office on that wharf, so we asked at a ferry ticket office across the road. The woman there directed us ‘behind the blue bus’ and we finally found it. The boat back to Positano had been cancelled due to heavy swell. We looked at other companies and found that they didn’t leave until 6pm.

We headed for the bus timetable and found one to Positano at 5.30. I went to get a strawberry icy cup thingo (which Sue called a granita, though it was nothing like the coffee thing), and came across Willy again. He asked why I was still there and I said that we were stranded. He made for the bus timetable and confirmed the 5.30 we’d already found. He found a man he was supposed to be buying a computer from and told me he’d be right back. The bus arrived before he got back, so we got on.

The trip was much less scary, and I took a lot of photos. We got off at the top of Positano and took the little bus to the villa, and chilled out with a beer or two on the balcony and sent Matt a text to make him jealous.

After a shower, we walked to the harbour and found a place to eat around to the right, placed our order and then the storm started. We went inside and Sue and Camillo had pizza and I had ravioli with just oil which is just exactly what I wanted and extremely good. There wasn’t enough of it though so I had a piece each of the others’ pizza. Half a bottle of red went with it very well. On the way back up, now that the rain had stopped, I ate the yummy chocolate meringue I’d bought on the way down. We spoke to Juliana before we went upstairs, and she showed me that the last Sorrento bus left for Napoli airport at 4.30 the next day. We were planning to go to Capri, and so thought that it would be better for me to get a boat from there straight to Sorrento or even to Napoli. Bed at 11.45.

Napoli, Sorrento, and Positano

I got the National Express bus from Parkers Piece at 5.25am, getting to Stansted ahead of schedule. Julien from City was on the bus too, but I didn’t speak to him, and don’t even know if he saw me. I texted Andrea. I got a croissant to eat at the airport, went through security, and got a shuttle train to gate 6. We boarded and took off with no fuss.

Landed in Napoli at about 11.10am, taxied for ages, then I went straight outside and found the bus to Sorrento immediately. It left at 11.30am and cost €7. The bus ride was comfortable – I was in the front seat directly behind the driver and I spoke to an English girl beside me.

I met Sue and Camillo at the station in Sorrento and we had a coffee among the noise and people (and DJ concert thing). We decided we didn’t want to see more of Sorrento, so ran for the 1.30 bus to Positano. Unfortunately we got on the wrong one, and ended up in Massa Lubrense instead. Camillo was rather stressed out about this, but Sue and I relished the opportunity to see another new and interesting place. I had my first pizza – a margherita which was very good – and some coconut gelato in a very nice and cheap café there.

After a wait we got the next Positano bus, and even though Sue and Camillo had warned me, I wasn’t prepared for the sheer drop or the fact that the road was built off beyond the cliff. Eeeek! I broke out in a sweat and got quite tense. I recovered after getting to firm ground. We caught the small shuttle bus down into the town, and got off near the beautiful Villa Delle Palme. The room was very nice, with a great view towards the water.

We walked down to the beach, noting the good shops, and I had a lovely cool swim. Then we had a drink sitting at a nice bar – I had some Nastro Azzurro - and walked back up again. After a shower we headed out for dinner, just downstairs. It was lovely. I had prosciutto and melon for a starter, grilled fish (whole) with a boring green salad and tiramisu for dessert. We had a local red wine from Massa Lubrense, which was light and delicious. We went to bed after 11, having declined to buy the CD of the quartet wandering from restaurant to restaurant, even though the clarinet player was pretty impressive. I read the entry in the Lonely Planet (oracle) for Amalfi, and saw that they recommended a short walk to Atrani, as it was beautiful and much less tourist-ridden.

Sue lent me her eye mask, as they wanted to sleep with the window open. Lucky I had my ear plugs!