30-Apr-07
A travel day: we wanted to get across to the west coast quickly to an area just south of Naples, where lay a number of interesting areas. So we hot-footed it first to Benevento and on to Salerno, from where we headed out to a small town Nocera Inferiore where another last minute saviour from Hospitality Club picked us up. A lovely guy, Daniele, we had a lot in common: he is a geek too and particularly interested in Linux and all things open-source. This was a good sign: he programs therefore must have extensive knowledge of pizza. Sure enough he took us to a fabulous small unsigned joint that we never would've noticed otherwise, and where I had the best damn pizza ever. What a great start to the Italian adventure; the country is everything I had hoped for: crazy, vibrant, beautiful and more stylish than is strictly necessary - made for people like me who have always prefered style over substance. Oh I'm just going to love it...
1-May-07
Up Pompeii! Really madam, titter ye not. It turns out we were within spitting distance of dear Frankie's spiritual home and so a 5 minute train journey, a perfect coffee (why can only Italians make coffee?) a slice of torte caprese, another coffee and a bit of a stroll later we were among the ruins marvelling at what Vesuvius had left for us. The site was amazing for its sheer size, its time-capsule preservation and probably the best audio guide I've ever listened to, but I've seen a lot of old ruins this past year and so my overriding observation from Pompeii, with particular reference to what frescoes remain in situ, is: my word the Romans were a saucy bunch. There couldn't have been a goat or young maiden safe in the entire province. We think today that we have the monopoly on sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll but we are mere amateurs: decadence belongs to the Romans and we are puritanical prudes in comparison.
The visit was a significant highlight to the holiday, a really amazing place to see. Just in time we made it onto the train back to Salerno, this time to a B'n'B for solitude and another simple yet perfect meal in the old town. All in all a most fitting way to celebrate Beltane (we gave the goat a miss though).
2-May-07
We took a terrific bus journey west along the coast to Amalfi, a twisty slow journey through valleys and mountains that crashed dramatically into the Mediterranean, through endless orange and lemon groves and past small whitewashed villages tumbling down the hillsides, not a flat surface or right-angle in the place I'm sure. We got off at a tiny village called Atrani and walked the rest of the way through what was essentially Cornwall by Armani. We reeled from the sea front with its tourist trappings and followed a river up out of town into the hills behind, past ancient abandoned paper mills and iron foundries that are crumbling amidst what is now a nature reserve and wildlife haven for some unique species of flora. Needless to say I couldn't spot which ones were unique and which ones common but they were all gorgeous, and we were lucky to be here in May when the valley floor was a carpet of wild flowers to get lost in. Heavenly. Interestingly Amalfi is also home to the infamous Yellow Booze that has destroyed many a party at our place (thanks Bob). Homage was paid.
We made our way back to Salerno at dusk and on to the tiny village of Pellezzano where we were met by our next host Ramona. A wild, unruly, eccentric gernerous and warm-hearted lady overflowing with life she took us to her very old traditional country home that she has decorated with, it seems to me, the expressed intention of fending off borgeoise orderly tastefulness. She certainly suceeded with aplomb as we ate her delicious cooking amongst a riot of colour, madness and orchestrated chaos that works in a wonderfully warm, inviting, bohemian way. Just my kind of place.
3-May-07
Woke late, breakfasted on rocket-fuel coffee and zoomed up the local mountain. Well, zoomed may be a bit strong but we sauntered at the very least; it was wonderful to be both off the tourist trail and out of the city for a while as we walked from village to village and got lost amongst gently clanking goats. Somehow the Italians even manage to do unkempt mountainsides with finesse as well as providing the wherewithall to round off a jaunt with more unctuous coffee and hot chocolate you can stand the spoon up in. Oh George, how right you were: Bugger Bognor indeed!