Venice from the Water © 2012 Peter Tooker
After twelve days in Venice, we bid this beautiful city a fond "arividerci" early this morning, taking a water taxi to the stazione for our train to Rome. Mario, the night desk clerk at our locanda, kindly helped us get our luggage down the three flights of stairs (that we will not miss) and around the corner to the Bridge of Sighs where the taxi was waiting for us. How appropriate, as I in fact did sigh as I watched the now familiar city diminish into the distance.
We were pleasantly surprised when we saw the train that would carry us to Rome over the next three and a half to four hours. It was modern, sleek, and very clean, the complete opposite of the train that had brought us to Venice. Our luggage relay was a little rusty after not having been used for almost two weeks, but we persevered. Peter went on ahead with the "big, black monster", a.k.a. his suitcase, and was able to tuck it under a compact luggage rack at the center of the train. He returned to the platform for my suitcase, and I continued to watch over our precious camera cases. Finally the "hand luggage" and I were loaded, and Peter and I found our seats - two facing each other, with a table in between, on the sunny side of the train. We dozed early on and then took in the amazing Tuscan countryside. What I saw outside our window looked just like all of those travel posters and postcards, so they must have been real.
Our transfer in Rome to a train heading for Naples was fairly uneventful. By now, we know that there's very little space for large bags, so time is of the essence when the doors open for boarding. In Rome, our train was late arriving and had passengers who had to disembark before we could get on. Poor Peter was blocked from starting our relay by an American couple who were getting off the train with as much luggage as we have. Finally, once they had cleared the doorway, Peter scrambled on board with bag "in hand" and seemed to disappear for an awfully long time. When he leaped off the other end of the coach, I learned that he'd had to "run a gauntlet" with the "big, black monster", the entire length of the train car to find the luggage racks at the other end chockablock full with small carry-on cases. The owners of these cases looked at their cases and then at Peter's monster, took pity on him, and quickly removed their bags to the overhead bins. We hoisted everything else on board, placed most of it in the racks above our heads, and dropped into our window seats panting, thanking the dear Lord, that we only have to do this one more time.
Now for the driving part of our story ….
In Naples, we rented a car to get us to Positano. Peter fondly remembers driving across Europe and in Italy back in the 70s in a late-60s BMW - loving the speed and hairpin turns. Well the manual Fiat Punto Evo we rented is no BMW! The gear box is soft, the brakes are tight, and the steering is a little sloppy, all things Peter will have to come to terms with over the next several days. As many of you know, the Italians are not long on discipline when it comes to going from Point A to Point B whether in a car, on a scooter, or on foot. Lines on the roads are meaningless, cross walks were created to be ignored, and traffic lights need to be obeyed only if the polizia are watching … or so it seemed to us. The roundabout just outside the train station nearly did us in, but we eventually found our way to the A3 South. Aahhhhh …. a highway. We thought this would be a welcome change to the congested city traffic. Well it quickly became apparent that those on the highway love speed about as much as they cherish their independence. Peter found a comfortable "stride" for this leg of the trip, which quickly made him feel like he was standing still - a feeling most men, mine in particular, would rather not feel. As we were exceeding the speed limits by 10kph, other cars were speeding up to our rear end bumper, abruptly changing lanes, honking, and rapidly roaring off into the distance leaving us with the distinct impression that we had been in their way. Surely, we thought we'd be able to relax when the city and highway were behind us.
The highway heading toward Sorrento undulates along the coastal mountains, rising above some villages and sloping down to seaside towns. The view across the Gulf of Naples, back toward the city, was breathtaking. The bright blue waters sparkled in the foreground and the mountains stood out distinctly in the distance. We had heard stories of the winding roads along the Amalfi Coast, with traffic jam ups with tourist buses, but we were sailing along with one in front of us, one behind, and a number of them passing us easily going in the other direction. We were feeling more comfortable with the car and the roads were well marked, directing us toward Sorrento and then on to Positano. This is the last leg of this day's travels and we were looking forward to arriving in this place I'd dreamt of seeing for so many years.
If the roads to Sorrento are winding, the roads to Positano are just plain treacherous. The lanes became narrower, the climbs became steeper, and the Italians became more dangerous. Upcoming hairpin turns were announced in degrees - 1 degree, to my mind, was really 359 degrees because we ended up practically where we began but on another level. We took the road turn-for-turn and were glad to finally see Positano in the distance.
Parked cars and scooters line the narrow streets of Positano, and pedestrians amble in the streets because there are very few sidewalks. As we were beginning to think we'd made it, we saw the nose of a very large tour bus pull around a corner. As it advanced toward us, Peter pulled close to the building on our right but found our nose about to hit a metal sign post. The bus had stopped because he couldn't advance without hitting us and the driver began signing us to backup. There were only inches left between us and the bus, and it was wedged in between the corner of a building and our car. Peter tried and tried to get the car into reverse, as the bus driver looked down on us with a grin. Scooters were weaving between the bus and us, honking their annoyance as they passed. Pedestrians stood dangerously close to the back of our car, as if they couldn't possibly be hit by this obvious tourist. Finally, the good-natured bus driver climbed down from his perch, leaned into our car and lifted the stick shift, showing us how to get it in to reverse. Greatly relieved yet grossly embarrassed, Peter got the car into reverse, backed up several yards and pulled tight against the flat side of a building. Another kind swarthy Italian now directed traffic, signaling to Peter which way to turn his wheels, waving one scooter passed after another, advising pedestrians to get out of the way, and then bidding the tour bus goodbye. The bottleneck broken, everyone continued on their way - another disaster averted.
Eden Roc is on the east side of Positano and I can honestly say I have never been greeted anywhere as warmly as we were here. This hotel is half way up the edge of the mountain, overlooking the Mediterranean, and has a single car pull-in just next to the front door. Happily we exited the car, dreading having to find a parking place for it for the night, but right after his "Bona sera", the manager advised us that they would see the car to a garage and all of our bags to our room - what welcome words those were. Within minutes of arriving at the front desk, we were on our flower lined balcony, gazing out at my picture-postcard view of Positano and the Mediterranean, sipping a complementary glass of champagne. We'd made it and just as the day was ending.
Having only eaten peanuts and cookies all day, an early dinner in the hotel restaurant was in order. Carlo couldn't have been kinder, recommending local wine to accompany our prosciutto & melon, homemade minestrone soup, grilled prawns, and fritto misto. He even brought the last of the wine, Peter's grappa and handmade chocolates to our room, so we could enjoy the end of the day on our balcony, which we did.
Positano, Italy
Barbara and Ally, so glad you're following along and enjoying the trip too. More later?!
Posted by: Claudia | Friday, May 18, 2012 at 12:53 PM
There just aren't any words that can express my joy reading your wordsmithing. The photos are not to be believed, but postcards themselves... I love being on this journey with you, driving situations and all.
Posted by: Barbara | Friday, May 18, 2012 at 12:13 PM
It exhausted me just reading that- you so vividly described the scene, I felt I was right there.
But what a treat to be rewarded with such a view and evening.
and it makes for great armchair traveler reading - thank you.
Posted by: ally | Friday, May 18, 2012 at 12:13 PM
Having some hair raising bus rides
My self over in Italy - I sure can emphathsize!! What a great read !
I could just see (and hear) Peter's frustration wishing he was driving an
Alfa- Romeo. The balcony & cuisine amply made up for it.
Cheers from Williams, Ariz !
Posted by: Robert Beyer | Thursday, May 17, 2012 at 08:00 PM
Oh my, oh my, you could have told us and it wouldn't have done any good ... too much equipment.
Posted by: Claudia | Thursday, May 17, 2012 at 02:42 PM
I have waited for this post............made my day knowing my friend is enjoying life as I once did.......what a shot of Positano........enjoy The Amalfi Coast, Ravello is fascinating ,loved my shopping there...........why grappa and no lemoncello ......can you believe the sixe of the lemons and oranges on the trees.......I need to go back NOW
Posted by: carl | Thursday, May 17, 2012 at 07:52 AM
You two will be hurtin for a while when you get home!Pics well done. Worth the pain!
Posted by: Victoria Magliaro | Thursday, May 17, 2012 at 07:46 AM
I meant to warn you about large suit cases and trains!Had similar situation!
Posted by: Victoria Magliaro | Thursday, May 17, 2012 at 07:45 AM