Agerola

 This beautiful, tiny little hamlet is known as “Little Switzerland” as it is tucked high up into the mountains.   It is quiet, clean and friendly, and we are staying at a cozy family-run hotel in the village.  We are the only guests so far and yesterday we had a wonderful time meeting the owner, Magdalena and her husband, a talented chef.   Indeed, there will be a very special dinner this evening as we entertain some friends of Dave’s that he met last April.   Designed by Dave and the chef, it is going to be a three course feast that features the best of the regional riches.  We have already been treated to appetizers with our welcoming wine yesterday - local anchovies, creamy Gorgonzola, peasant bread with slices of parmesan, olives.   And they make their own red wine, which Dave pronounced as delicious.

Although our trip here went without a hitch, it was a long one and involved many changes.   Beginning in the chaos of the Naples train station (took the subway to get there as linea one was finally open, thank God)….

We caught a high speed, direct train to Salerno, first stop.   Managed to find the bus station without too much of a problem, and to our delight, the bus to Amalfi was waiting.   The delight was a bit bruised as we crammed onto the bus with a hundred other people and were left standing in the aisle for the next hour as the bus negotiated the almost unbelievable mountainous roads, twists, turns and jaw dropping climbs.  Not once was I afraid, these drivers are experts and several times we passed other buses going back to Naples, and I swear there was about 2 inches between the two buses.   Didn’t faze them a bit so it didn’t faze me either.   As we trundled along for the next hour or so, enough people left that I was able to sit for the last 5 km, which took us about 25 minutes.  At last, Amalfi appeared and we repeated the process for the next bus to Agerola, another hour or so but this time, blessedly sitting down.  Higher and higher we climbed, and the lush valleys below were all tiered and actively growing various types of produce.  The rain held off, blessedly. 

We kind of got off in the wrong spot in Agerola, which we realized when Google said it was a 25 minute walk and not a 3 minute one.   Called Magdalena and said, somewhat sheepishly… we’re at the Blue Moon bar, do you know where that is?   She laughed and said she would be right over to pick us up and sure enough, about 15 minutes later there she was.   We told her about our many travels and she looked at us and blinked and said… why didn’t you just take the bus direct from Naples?   Only 90 minutes!   Oh, we said.   Oh.   How about that.

By the time we tucked into our rooms and had our welcoming wine and goodies, we were laughing at ourselves.   No harm done, and the bus ride was one I will never forget.  (I can’t, since tomorrow we will be on the same bus, back-tracking to Salerno)!

First views of this lovely spot were marred by heavy clouds and mist over the mountains, but I will try to get some better pictures today.  The weather is still not on our side but everything is looking splendid from tomorrow on, right until we leave on Thursday.   I might even get a chance to wear my new hat again!

                                    A wonderful, hand-crafted menu, and really reasonable

                                   First view of Agerola, taken while waiting for our pick up

                                         Never stop dreaming.  Only those who dream can fly.

Moving on to Amalfi

 Yesterday was another good wander, and having visited the same piazza now three or four times, the way around the warren is become a little more clear.   We found a decent market (sadly, a day too late to buy things to cook).   Had an enjoyable time watching hundreds of children, who were in the piazza to meet some of their decathlon athletes and to be inspired by them.  Picked up more cheese and some roasted artichoke with olives dish that was purely amazing.  The weather held until after our mid afternoon break and then just as we were going to go to Sophia Loren’s corner for pizza, the skies opened.   No matter, I was stuffed full of luncheon goodies and so gratefully called it a night and managed to get a good, solid 8 hour sleep, which will put me in good stead for today’s adventures.  Fast train to Salerno, bus to Amalfi, bus to Agerola and to our next few nights as cliff dwellers.

                                                 Ciao, complesso Napoli.   

Making Friends with Naples

 Yesterday we walked the morning away, took a brief rest at home, and then continued to meander for a few more hours.   Somehow we wracked up 25G steps, and a great deal of them were going up staircases. The walk alongside the Napoli harbour is truly lovely - wide and for pedestrians only, which gave the mind and heart a rest from ducking Fiats and motorcycles.   This place makes you feel vibrantly alive and highly alert, sometimes that is a great feeling and sometimes the adrenalin rush that is needed to cross traffic or step carefully over broken roads leaves you a bit depleted.  The energy is frenetic and yet there is such beauty in the old buildings and in the plants/trees that must have floated over from Africa on the wind.

We found a wonderful market in the afternoon wander, and picked up pasta, cheese, stuffed eggplant and roasted peppers for our dinner.   And two ricotta cheesecake pieces!  It was a feast and one that would have been easy if we had a microwave (still don’t know why we don’t) or a functioning oven (simply does not light).   Dave created a water bath type of pan on one of the burners and we easily used the aluminum containers to warm it all up that way.   Easy.

I have also discovered the magnificent Napoli olive, expertly brined, at exactly the right ripeness.  The bag of about 20 that we bought didn’t last an hour, and we’re going back today for more.  Much more.

Streetlife around here is fascinating.   In the late afternoon, as I was giving my toes a much needed breather, I heard a loudspeaker moving through the neighbourhood.   I thought it was someone spouting propaganda but a peek over the veranda revealed the fruit & vegetable vendor.   He announces his presence, snaps open his panels and doors to display his wares, and then baskets start dropping from the higher apartments and verandas.   These obligingly get filled with the proper order and then it’s hauled back up to the window.   Payment’s in there somehow, maybe at the start.   

One of our major scores yesterday was to buy two rain ponchos for 3 euros.   Mine’s pink, bro’s is blue.  We hoped this might appease the rain Gods and that Murphy’s law would apply, but I’m afraid not.   Rain will return this afternoon and be a part of our travel day tomorrow, but at least this time we will be staying high and dry.

Tomorrow, we take the fast train to Salerno, and two buses further on to get to our next destination, Agerola, on the Amalfi.   Two nights in our own rooms in a hotel there, then two nights in a Salerno hotel, and then another long train trip to our final destination in Brindisi.  The days are getting short.

                                   We discovered the Basilica Reale Pontificia during our afternoon wanders

Today is another laundry day, because we’ll be hoteling it for the next four nights.   And right on schedule, the rain has made another appearance, but at least it is not heavy.   And the glittery Galleria Piazza Garibaldi is not a long walk from here, so that promises to be a pleasant and dry place to spend a few hours, and probably quite a few euros!

Naples

 I thought Venice was a rabbit’s warren of confusing and twisted streets.   Ha!  Naples makes Venice look like a well organized, alphabetized, logical roadmap.   But!  We are here and our apartment is quite lovely, tucked away in the Spanish quarter of this mind boggling city.   Twenty-four hours ago we were still waiting for the rain to calm down in Sorrento so we could make our dash for the train station.   It didn’t, and we were soaked again in the process.   But, we made it, caught our train, and arrived in Naples to find the metro line one was closed, due to flooding.  Obviously they got the same rain we did.   No cabs.  No choice but to Google walk our way (approximately 45 minutes, said Google) to our BnB and this we did, taking more than double that time and getting hopelessly lost as we tried to find our place, which Google insisted, was in the middle of a brick wall down an alley.

                                            “Somewhere, down there… is our apartment.”

Dave finally called our host and through another series of merry adventures involving another thousand or more stairs, somehow… we made it.  Whew.  It took us more than 5 hours to go less than 30 km from Sorrento.

Today, Tuesday morning, we have mutually chosen an easy day, and there is apparently a beautiful walk alongside the marina that sounds soothing to the soul.  And, we noted an abundance of fresh vegetables being sold at little stands all through the neighbourhood, which means we will make up a big batch of our favorite roasted vegetables for dinner tonight.  Best of all, no rain!

Thunder, lightning, heavy rain and laundry day

 This was the vista at waking hour:

Those grumpy-looking clouds were in a bad mood, and heading straight for us, after getting holes poked into them by Vesuvius.   I dithered about whether we could make it into town for a quick shop but it was so early, and it’s Sunday today.   Instead we elected to do battle with our Italian washing machine, who decided to wash our load of clothes for upwards of three hours.   And not an agitating wash, just the occasional, spin, stop, think.   Spin, stop, think.   After a few hours of this we wondered whether we’d have any zippers or buttons left on anything and so consulted the Goggle manual, which was about as helpful as a novel written in Sanskrit.   Instead, we just pushed a lot of buttons and finally, voila, she went into a paroxysms of spins and spat out all the clean duds in about 15 minutes.  Bonus.   By then, I had hauled our dryer rack back from our sun deck  (there are no dryers in Italy, everyone dries out in the fresh (ha) air.   So, dryer rack needed drying first and then we loaded her up and used every hanger and doorknob for all the rest.    Kinda looked like a Chinese/Italian laundromat.

The rain continued to pour, sometimes so heavily we couldn’t even see the road below us.   And so, wrapped in my favorite Italian scarf, we attempted Italian TV, which was actually pretty good because it was all about polar bears and you don’t really need much translation to understand what “I’m gonna eat that seal” means.

Around 2 pm, the not-smart-sibling brightly offered that the rain was lessening and that if we were going to do a provision run, now was the time.   Backpacks were loaded, coats on and our single umbrella (still working fine despite the Siena blowout) and off we went, down the windy long road to the market, almost 2 km.   Ground zero turned out to be much wetter than what I judged from our lofty perch and it took no time until we were soaked, and I mean right down to the intestines.  Dave’s ponytail was a conduit for an elegant little waterfall, but I didn’t dare tell him that at the time.   After surfing our way around the last corner, there it was, our favorite market and we all but cried when the man standing outside of it shook his head and simply said… chiuso.    WHAT?  Per quanto? We asked, water dripping off our noses.    He shrugged.   Tutti il giorno.    All day.   Domenica, he shrugged again.   Sunday.   Oh.

In fact, thanks to the storm, so were all the trattorias in the area, chuiso.   There was nothing to do but to head back up the hill, our packs dripping and our spirits with them.   But!   I remember spying a tiny pizza place, tucked into a corner about halfway up and low and behold, they were open.  We bundled in the door, effectively washing their floor for them, and asked plaintively “takeaway?”   And thank God, he took pity on us as we shivered and dripped and watched them make our two pizzas.    I’ll tell you something, there are worse places to wait in a storm then about 2 feet from an open brick pizza oven, watching the owner as he crafted a perfect crust over wood coals.    He felt sorry for the two dumb, wet Canadians who lived “high up on the hill” and double wrapped our hot pizza with plastic bags.   I spied two large Peroni beers and added them to the pack, along with a package of salted peanuts, circa 1945.    And up the hill we went again, dodging washouts and car splashes and watching our feet as we sloshed through the mud mixed with fallen fruit, nuts and grapes.   But we made it.   And we added our shoes, socks, coats and packs to the Chinese Italian laundry, poured a Peroni each and tucked ourselves in for the rest of this tropical storm.   The weather does not bode well for our trip to Napoli tomorrow, but it is what it is, and we will survive it.

Sunshine and lemons and many, many steps

 We had the most wonderful morning, exploring the inner harbour and marina as we weighed our decision to go to Capri.  In the end, we decided to give it a pass.   The tourists are everywhere, often being led by a flag-holding guide who shepherds her flock more enthusiastically than a border collie.  Maybe it was because it’s a Saturday but the ferry line ups were long and the price was steep.  So, we shrugged and decided to keep our exploring through the magnificent markets and streets brimming with temptations.  Climbing back up from the harbour, some 400 stairs or so, lands one back in the town square and from there, you wander through pretty little parks and narrow lanes, part of a slow moving but happy bunch.  We stopped for a cannoli (overdosed on the chocolate for sure) and, much later I was treated to my first, but hopefully not last, limoncello spritzer.   Made with fresh lemons, a splash of limoncello and a twinkle of Prosecco.   Icy cold with slush, it was refreshing and delicious.   We found a park and watched the marina below, admiring the intense blue of the Mediterranean while listening to a busker play some traditional Italian guitar.

Mediterranean blue!

Looking up at the Excelsior, where Caruso spent his last days.

Busy harbour.  Zillion dollar toys of the rich & famous..  

Ancient columns and tunnels in hills, untouched and mysterious.

Wall painting downtown.

Parts of Sorrento feature steps cut into walls and cliffs, and they were there long before Christ.  And there is a Moorish aspect to some of the design, I am sure a carry-over from battles of yore.   We are not far from the coast of Africa and the jungle-like lushness reflects that, beautiful cacti and vibrantly healthy flowers are everywhere.  It’s like living in the middle of a fruit bowl.

This morning (it is now Sunday), the clouds have settled in.   We’ll go back to Sorrento for a little more serious shopping for souvenirs and perhaps find a church or two to explore.   And figure out whether to take a ferry to Naples tomorrow, or to get back on the train.  We have four nights in Naples to explore that big, busy city, and we are staying quite centrally in the Spanish quarter.   It will be a change after sleepy Tuscany and touristy Sorrento, but a nice bit of hustle before we return to the Amalfi coast, Salerno, and finally, Brindisi on the Adriatic side, our last port before catching the big bird to Rome/Calgary/Victoria.  

Sorrento

 Good night and good morning from Sorrento.   Our view looks over the Bay of Naples and is dominated by beautiful Mount Vesuvius, circled by diamonds of light in the evening and cushioned with mist in the mornings.

Directly beneath us are the groves of lemon, orange and olive trees and in fact, our fridge here contained a big bowl of lemons.   Not too sure what to do with a dozen lemons in the three days that we are here but hey, I’m game!

Our travel day yesterday was a lengthy one, but the 4 hour drive down was flawless.  We stopped for a sandwich just outside of Rome, and managed to find our way to the Naples airport to drop off our little Fiat.  From there, shuttle to the airport itself, bus to town center, 2 hours on the train to Sorrento and then a luxurious pick up by our host.  A wonderful thing because as you can see, we are perched high on a hill and it would have been quite a long drag on the suitcases.  Dave continues to negotiate the travel portions with finesse, especially the driving, where I found myself so relaxed that I nearly fell asleep.   Not many can claim that while traveling on a high speed six lane highway, surrounded by massive trucks and fancy Italian cars often going at speeds over 160 km.

According to the weatherman, we are in for a change tomorrow and that might involve rain.  So today’s plans will be juggled accordingly and we may wind up on the Isle of Capri after we spelunk our way down to the harbour.   One thing is for sure, packing one long-sleeved shirt (and only one) was not very prudent and so I’ll be on the lookout for something a little warmer in the shops today.  For now, I believe a cup of lemon tea is in order!

Monterioggioni

Got a little ahead of myself with my confidence about punching in the right Google destination.   Pretty much flawless unless you forget to cancel the last place you were at, and then Google obligingly takes you south instead of north.  

I no longer care.

We had a lovely visit in Monterioggioni and walked the walls around this  13th century village.  It’s tiny, and our courtyard cafe panini was the size of a football, for 5 euros.  We surreptitiously hid the top of the bun (to throw out later) and munched our way through the filling, washing it down with water.   I kind of felt like I ate a pillow but it was all good, and it was dusted with their very special truffle cream.  Right now it’s mushroom season (fungoli) and there are roadside stands selling aromatic, early truffles everywhere.

Hiking down from the city through yet another olive grove.  

A window through history.  Imagine the iron gates employed to keep out the enemies!

Almost every doorstep has a beautiful wee garden; this one, a cactus in fruit.

View of the wee village from the wall.

It is not difficult to close your eyes while standing on the wall and imagine the battles that ensued some 800 or 900 years ago.  These fortress cities are stalwart and immensely strong, and they have endured for that very reason.

Tomorrow is the day we hit the road, pedal to the metal, all the way to Naples via Roma.  We have checked and rechecked our route and estimated our toll charges.   To leave Tuscany after this rich week is almost unimaginable; but the vistas and adventures ahead are compelling.   Avante!   

Arrezo

We’re getting better at typing in the right destination on Maps.   Even so, Google took us on a circuitous route to the lovely city of Arrezo, and nearly doubled the time.  Knowing we would probably be tired by day’s end, she thoughtfully rerouted the way home to the autostrada and sent us home in just over an hour.  We no longer question her motives and she no longer judges our bad spelling.  Win/win.

Arrezo was fun, although it took us some time to find the main piazza, where we sat in the sun and enjoyed a nice meal at a fancy restaurant.  Not usually our style, but after quite a long wander and popping in and out of a few churches, we felt we owed it to ourselves.  It was very quiet, none of the usual tourist hustle evident, which was relaxing.

Today is our last full day in Monteciano.  Tuscany has been everything that I have ever hoped and dreamed of, and I will miss it, as well as our beautiful villa and our kind hostess.  Early tomorrow we will pack up a nice picnic lunch and hit the road for the 5-6 hour drive to Naples.  After saying a fond farewell to the Fiat at the airport drop off,  we will then bus/train the short distance to Sorrento, where we will be for the next 4 days.  Time for the Amalfi coast and all the delights within!

One thousand years ago

 The Abbey of San Galgano was built between 1218 and 1288 by Cistercian monks.  Around 500 years later, the bell tower was struck by lightning, which collapsed onto the roof of the Abbey, and the church was deconsecrated in 1789.  What is left is perfectly preserved, nestled into a long pathway framed by stately Cyprus trees.   Best of all, this treasure was less than 10 km away from our home base.   We would have missed it, except for a handy hint from Gigliano, our sweet hostess, and we made a valiant effort to walk there this morning but instead found ourselves deep in a Tuscan forest, watching an elderly Italian lady work patiently in her garden while her husband cut grapes from the vines.  It was a beautiful stroll and we swung through our tiny village again before hopping in the Fiat and making our way to the Abbey.   It was almost deserted and but for the eerie sound of the pigeons as they winged they way through the old ruins, it was resolutely silent.   Never have I been in a place like this, nor experienced the profound humbleness that can only come from immersion in a place of such dignified endurance.  

A steep hill led to the top of the vista and that is where the Cappella di San Galgano waits, and therein lies a story of the ages, chilling and mysterious.   This chapel was built by the knight Galgano Guiddotti, who lived as a hermit until 1181.   In the tiny room adjacent to the chapel and protected in an acrylic shell is his  sword, which he drove into the rock to symbolize his renunciation of the worldly life.  This was consecrated in 1185.  In the nearby chapel, built at the beginning of the 14th century, lie the remains of human arms.  According to legend, they belong to one of the three “envious” men, who tried to extract the sword, breaking it, while Galgano was absent.  His arms were then torn off by a wolf, a friend of the saint.  Carbon dating has revealed these relics are indeed from the XII century, thus contemporary to St. Galgano’s times.  Chilling.  Thrilling. Shivers. 

The frescos are still amazingly clear, representing “Scenes of the Life of Saint Galgano.”  These were painted in the 14th century.  We sat alone in a tiny chapel and when we fed the light meter with 50 cents, it illuminated the frescos and the Madonna to absolute perfection.

And the view, as we reluctantly brought our visit to a close:

As far as our trip plans go, we had a major score this morning.   The smart sibling wondered if we could drop off the Fiat in Napoli instead of Siena, thereby saving ourselves 7 hours on a hot train and giving us the opportunity to drive the entire route along the sea.   A polite call to our car guy revealed this was entirely possible and furthermore, by paying a paltry drop off fee, we saved ourselves 150 euros!   We are now busy filling in the four extra days tacked on between Sorrento and Brindisi, which are almost certainly going to be booked on the Amalfi coast, either in a hotel or in a VRBO.

It’s now mid-afternoon.   We are waiting for Gigliano to top off our gas tank for the stove so that we can pan roast vegetables to go along with our ravioli and a glass of Borollo.  La dolce vita, sweetness beyond words.

San Gimigiagno

I ticked off a few boxes yesterday morning:  Laundry, research into Bari, banking, while Dave did a major photo edit and emptied out The Cloud of any extraneous gigs.   All that accomplished, we climbed into the Fiat and made our way to beautiful San Gimigiagno, about an hour’s drive away.  Another fortress village, with 12 of the original pillars still standing from the 11th and 12th centuries.  It’s a popular spot for tourists, and parking was a problem until we found a spot a few kilometers away.   No matter, it was a great day for a walk alongside the olive groves and up the side of the mountain to the city walls.   It didn’t take long to find a panini, and we split that while sitting in a sunny corner, admiring the chattering tourists flowing by.   The little shops were exquisitely presented, with all sorts of treasures within including local saffron and a big selection of wild boar sausage.  Boars are a thing here and they are as destructive as they are ugly.   

Somehow, we managed to repeat the same mistake we made yesterday on our return trip home, inadvertently typing in the wrong “Monty” on maps.   We were well into our mistake when Dave commented that he couldn’t figure out why the factories in a certain town were now on the wrong side of the road.   I don’t know why we were so complacent and shrugged off the many earlier cues that indicated we were going in the wrong direction, again.  Eventually though we managed to pull off the road, correct the map, and sigh mightily as we acknowledged the extra hour of driving we had just awarded ourselves.  We were relieved, hungry and thirsty at trail’s end and lost no time in putting our feet up on the warm bricks of our patio, enjoying a beer while we watched the setting sun.   Another day in Wonderland.