Signing off

 Ciao.   The dishes are done, the bags are packed, and the last pop of Prosecco has come and gone.   Ahead lies a 2 hour flight to Rome, then a 10.5 hour to Calgary, then another 2 hours to Victoria.   My iPad is armed with about 10 hours of movies, our seats are chosen, resignation and depression have set in.   I can’t believe it’s over.

Brindisi was lovely today.  We found a pedestrian mall with some tempting stores (no room in luggage, too bad), strolled the waterfront again, explored the innards going south and found a few fascinating nuggets of history.   By far the most intriguing was the St. John the Baptist cathedral, which is actually a museum featuring the most fantastic antiquities from the 16th and 17th century.  Originally build in about 1100, the church was redesigned 600 years later after a fire, but the treasures within are fantastic.   Sadly there were no descriptions of the artifacts in English and so I translated a few when I got home.  The books are from the archbishop’s writing in about 1720, but their ornate covers were so beautiful that I wished I could have touched them, even just once.  Beautiful goblets (Prosecco, anyone?), more bits and pieces of people/saints or the venerated stashed here and there.  And the frescos, always so stunning.

It was a grand way to spend our last day in Italy.  Tonight, we are winding down, double-checking passports and tickets and figuring out where the hell are the liquids and how much olive oil is under 100 mL?  I guess I’ll find out, maybe the hard way when they confiscate my Amalfi garlic olive oil.  This adventure has been beyond comparison and exceeded my expectations and hopes a thousand times over.  Italy, you are in my heart forever.

                                           In the courtyard at St. Anna’s… Roman columns just lying there.  Gasp!

Easy, Breezy Brindisi

 It’s officially our last full day in Italy.   I can hardly believe the past month, the things we have seen, the places we have traveled, the adventures and the misadventures.  But, all good things must come to an end and I prefer to think of endings as simply the transition to new beginnings.

Brindisi is relatively flat and yesterday’s walk around town was easy and fast.   This is a mariner town for sure, there are fountains and statues and tributes to the men of the sea and those who fought to defend the shores for a thousand years or more.   It is a quiet place, especially during afternoon siesta, when the streets are folded up and all is quite silent.  What a change after the hustle and bustle of Milan, Naples or Firenze. 

A few shots taken under a brilliant blue sky:

I’m not sure how we’ll spend these last 24 hours in Italy, but the sun is out, the sky is blue, and we’ve got more exploring on board.   Avante! 

Chaio, Bella Salerno!

 I’m composing this off line, while sitting on a high speed train from Salerno to Brindisi, about a 5 hour journey.   We caught our first connector with ease and now here we are, with not much to do except for look out the windows and admire the scenery.  And wish they would wash the train windows more frequently.  This train is from Rome and was pretty full when it pulled into the station, so it was lucky that we bought our tickets on line when we did.  Guaranteed seating for a long trip is the only way to go, even if Dave and I are in aisle seats, facing each other.

                                          All are welcome on Trainitalia!

Anyway.   Yesterday was a 30G step day, and every one of them a joy.  We revisited the beautiful shoreline walk in the morning, pushing further along the harbour for quite some time until we ran out of sidewalks.  It’s a busy, pretty port, with a couple of gargantuan cruise ships in and many expensive private yachts.   The “passeggiata” walk is a sweet Italian tradition, families and lots of dogs join the young and the old on a lazy, relaxed stroll.   It’s so utterly non-North American in its simplicity and pace.  We eventually wound up St. Mathias church, where the tomb of Matthew, one of the disciples is.   Such ornate beauty and attention to detail left me gasping.  What a tribute to the hand of man, and what can be created through faith and inspiration.

Eventually we found our way to another church, some ancient Roman aqueducts, and then a courtyard with a sweet little restaurant, where we split an amazing smoked salmon and avocado salad for our lunch.   A lazy stroll back to the hotel and an hour to rest our feet - while eating limoncello babas (gift from Enza), and then off we went again, this time up, up and more up to the most glorious views of sparkling Salerno.   We could not find the one church that we wanted to, and two more were closed thanks to it being late Sunday afternoon.    In our wandering though we did manage to find the exquisite Minerva gardens, dating back to Medieval times.   More climbing, more vistas.  We did get a little turned around on the way back as the cobblestone streets were somewhat reminiscent of Naples (thankfully, without the buzzing motorcycles), and that managed to add quite a few more steps.  Believe me when I say my legs have never been so strong.

                                 Totally lost, but what a view!

                          For a thousand years a spring has run through this grotto.

                                      The busy, friendly, sunny harbour

Dinner was at Pinocchio’s, a great discovery near the waterfront, and we celebrated the day with spaghetti and grilled fish and veggies.   Some sort of wild celebration was going on in the park on the waterside, but unfortunately most of the restaurants were closed.  Again, Sunday.   No matter, this was a great find and we really enjoyed our meals.   It was such beautiful weather, mild and warm, so we decided to stroll up and down the pedestrian way that our little hotel is on.   It was buzzing with action and chattering people, vibrant and engaging.   It was so tough to finally stop for the night but a long day of travel demanded it, so it was back to our rooms and to a fairly respectable sleep. I’ll miss beautiful Salerno very much.

                                This fresco, from the first century, is still beautiful.

                                     Somewhat macabre reminder of the fragility of life.

                                              Part of the Roman aqueducts. 

Twenty-four hours

 It is mind boggling how much can be crammed into a single day.   Yesterday we awoke to the thickest, darkest fog I have ever seen, and yet, it was warm.   We went for a walk anyway, being extra careful not to waltz off any cliffs, let alone get lost.  And get lost we did, but not for long after we reversed our direction and successfully found the tiny piazza.  By then, the sun was working hard to break through the clouds and we could finally appreciate some of the beauty around us.

Our very special dinner began in the early evening, after we met Enzo and her boyfriend in the piazza, to have a glass of wine and a pre-visit visit.   When we returned to our hotel, it was to find that the owners had pretty much knocked themselves out to make our dinner a night worth remembering, including the most exquisite floral arrangement on our table for four.   We were the only guests.  The food was indescribable, and every course was more sumptuous than the last.   I knew I was in trouble after the pasta course and I still had three courses to go.  But, the portions were elegantly small and by taking a few hours to leisurely savour every morsel, and every sip of wine that went along with every course, it seemed natural to fall into the European style of dining.  Slow, appreciative, with frequent fork breaks to sip wine and really take in the exquisite food that was presented.   All four IPhones were kept busy translating Italian to English and vice versa, Dave managed to keep up pretty well and our lovely hostess swooped in to translate if things got particularly complicated.  Laughter was abundant and we easily bonded our friendship as the hours passed.   I will never forget this feast as I can truthfully say, it was the best meal I have ever had in my life.   I have only included a few pictures from the many courses that we savoured. 

                                                Stunning, fresh floral display

                                                 Seared tuna, capers

                                                 Perfectly cooked black bass

Our decadent dessert

We parted with great affection, many kisses and enthusiastic promises to return to Enza’s next year, or to bring her back to Canada with us.   Pretty much the sky was the limit, at that hour of the night, LOL. 

Needless to say, we were a bit quiet by the time morning rolled around, and both of us sighed knowing we were in for a long bus ride to Amalfi and then to Salerno.    If we only knew…

We had done our research this time, and we knew exactly where the bus would stop. We even did a surreptitious recon earlier in the day.  And so it was that we stood with our fully packed suitcases, backpacks and equally large heads, precisely at 9:15 to catch the 9:30 bus.   

Nine-thirty came and went.   No bus.   No matter, another was due at 10.   No bus.  We listened to the church bell forlornly tolling our hours.   One bus came by, and we leapt up only to be told, no, not going to Amalfi.   Sat down on the stairs, watched the little village dogs roar around by themselves as they did every morning, seeking treats from trekkers.

Finally, the Sita bus roared into sight about 10:30 and of course of course of course, it was packed to the hilt.   I managed to get on and got the very last seat, right at the front next to the driver.  Poor Dave, who was struggling with our bags, got the aisle and a very long, twisty, bumpy ride.   Or so we thought.

Just as we were leaving the little town, we came to a grinding halt behind two other Sita buses.   Small traffic was moving, but buses were not.  The driver erupted in a string of frustrated Italian and left to go and join the other drivers to have a smoke.   We were perched on the edge of a cliff, the view was stunning, but no one knew what was happening.   The minutes dragged on.   I heard rumours of an accident somewhere on the road and sure enough, someone had ran into a barricade or done something that incinerated their car.   Necessitating, of course, fire control and road clearance and all of that stuff.  I plugged in my Spotify list and tried to relax.   Nothing to do, so why worry?  

It was getting close to 11:30 when we finally got moving, and we crawled our way into Amalfi with the three other buses.  Because of all the delays, the bus depot was complete bedlam, people pushing their way onto buses and zero room in the aisles, let alone a seat.   And so, one of the really really smart siblings said… oh look, there’s the ferry station!  Let’s go see if we can catch a boat to Salerno!

Like magic, five minutes later we had our tickets in hand and were on the dock in less than 10.  The boat arrived, emptied it’s load of tourists and we boarded our half hour cruise to Salerno.   The views were absolutely gobsmacking.   It was a beautiful warm day, the seas were choppy and we sat right at the very front of the boat in the sunshine, hanging on tight, loving every second.   To see Amalfi from the sea is unforgettable, the beauty, the starkness of the cliffs and the utterly amazing engineering that it takes to carve a city out of a mountainside.  

                                                    Switchbacks, hairpins, hair-raising turns on the bus

                                     Views of Amalfi

There we sat, on our own private “yacht” cruising the Amalfi coast, watching the buses that were packed like sardines snake their way along the road as we merrily bounced our way across the Mediterranean to Salerno.   Only a half an hour.   For 8 euros.  Worth a fortune.  I could spend an entire day just riding back and forth on the ferries.  Positano, Amalfi, Salerno, Capris.   Would be so much fun.

I got an an instant good vibe from Salerno, and I can’t wait to explore this beautiful city.  There was a welcoming dude helping tie up the boat, who was a gent in his 70s (I believe a “town character”) and wearing a postage stamp-sized Speedo bathing suit that had seen better days.  Everyone was happy and calm.   Without too many back/forths, we found our little boutique hotel, less than 1/2 km to walk this time.   It is lovely, new, the rooms are small but everything is pristinely clean and best of all it is located on a beautiful pedestrian street, packed full of charming restaurants, intriguing stores and aromatic perfumeries.   Tomorrow will be a wondrous day, unless you’re my Visa card.

For now, a little siesta after an eventful day, and then we’ll grab dinner out and go exploring.  No cooking on this leg of the trip, and we are feeling quite spoiled (because we certainly are).