Why Don’t Any Of The Toilets Have Toilet Seats?
ITALY | Friday, 15 May 2009 | Views [3717]
After the disappointment that Venice delivered me I am not particularly expecting much of southern Italy and the excitement I have for being here falters, which ultimately turns out to be a blessing because once I experience the toe and heel end of Italia’s boot, I am just blown away. All the expectations I held for the former are fulfilled by the latter. The locals are friendly, even going out of their way to help us...they don’t even wait to be asked, they offer! There is no sense of arrogance or snobbery about these people - we even come into contact with the local brand of bogan on the train - a few mums with their kids run riot, throwing rubbish, disposing of half eaten sandwiches out the window and “flicking boogers” as The Doctor so eloquently puts it. The region itself is bursting with a rainbow of colour - the deep reds of the plump strawberries; the bright yellows of the football sized lemons; the vibrant oranges, purples and greens of the fertile land are a feast for the eyes. The sky is a consistently clear expanse of blue. The sun constantly shines bathing us in its comfortably warm light of day.
Whilst the city of Napoli itself is not somewhere I wish to spend much time (although its claim of the world’s best pizza is a title I am happy to bestow based on the cheese and basil creation I devour at Sorbillo), the sights around the area are simply amazing. Being in Pompeii fills me with wonder as it is hard to fathom how old these structures really are, yet how similar they seem to a modern-day town. Even after studying Pompeii I am not prepared for how large it actually is. We spend seven hours here and still don’t see it all. The most interesting building is the town brothel and its graphic paintings depicting various positions on the walls! Their purpose apparently was to be a “menu” of sorts for clients. Hmm...no wonder it didn’t make it into the Archaeology syllabus. Herculaneum, though, is even more fascinating. Not having heard about this site before arriving here, we decide to pay a visit to fill our last day in Napoli before catching the train to Sicily. And what luck we do. The structures here are so well preserved, you can actually enter and walk around fully walled and roofed buildings with the second storey still in place. It means you get to appreciate the layout, style and size of the houses and imagine what it was like to reside in them. Unlike Pompeii, here there are entire mosaic tile floors still intact and even a set of wooden doors with handles. Unfortunately, the camera battery dies just in time to miss all the most impressive sights!
My absolute highlights though are Capri and Positano. Beautiful and picture-perfect can only begin to describe the views here. Romance oozes from every scene the eye beholds. I am in a slightly grumpy mood the day we head over to Capri. Our hostel room-mate is a 40 something year old who seems to be living here, and who insists on having the window open even when he is not present. One day he simply bursts into the room, heads straight to the window, makes a show of opening it all the way and walks out again! It is a battle of wills between Window Guy and myself as to the prevailing position - open or closed - of the window each night. His point of weakness however is that he has to wake up early to go to work thereby putting himself to bed at 9.30pm (and he is staying in a youth hostel dorm room...I can’t quite work that one out). All I need to do is beat him in the staying awake stakes and close it once he drifts off. The one night I fail to do this, I am constantly awakened by the near-by ringing of church bells, people talking animatedly in the typical Italian fashion, and dogs howling. However, once I get to absorb Capri’s atmosphere and get a taste of its charm, the dark cloud hanging over my head clears and I feel so at ease and peaceful that I even imagine Window Guy and I becoming life-long friends. The Doctor and I head away from the crowds and discover our own private look-out area high above the aqua sea and its boats. I peer over the edge and spot a lone sun-bather stretched out on a rock by the water, soaking up the sun, and I am instantly jealous. I want to ditch hostel living and its dodgy bathrooms and strange residents immediately and stay in a white-washed Caprian villa overlooking nature’s beauty for a couple of relaxing weeks.
To get to Positano we catch a bus from Sorrento that heads down the Amalfi Coast along a road that appears to jut out from the cliff edge, following the natural zig-zag of the mountain side, which is honestly slightly hair-raising as the driver doesn‘t seem to be as cautious behind the wheel as this kind of road would dictate. Having been a passenger on other insane coach driver’s vehicular weapons (see previous post), this journey is merely a Bus Ride of Anxiety rather than Death, but unnerving all the same. Serves me right for being greedy and grabbing the window seat to get the perfect view of this must-see scenic drive. I hesitate to look down at the sheer drop from the cliff-face into the deep blue ocean that shimmers below, and yet, like a horror movie I keep peeking downwards as though I enjoy terrifying myself. At this point my thoughts turn morbid as I recall several news stories of crashing and burning bus loads of tourists (why is it always buses?). As if reading my mind, The Doctor informs me that if we were to be involved in an accident, gravity would not be on our side as everyone is seated on the coastal side of the bus and this distribution of weight would most likely tip us over the edge.
After a perfect day of merely wandering around Positano and absorbing its breath-taking views over a cliff-side terrace lunch, my soul is full and content and we call it a day. The return bus to Sorrento is taking a different route to the way we arrived as the number of zigs and zags has increased ten-fold. The Doctor, whose daily diet has consisted of a margherita pizza, peach iced tea , caprese salad, strawberry and hazelnut gelato AND a lemon granita, chooses this moment to announce that he is feeling queasy along with the little secret that he used to succumb to car sickness. A similar concoction is swirling around my own stomach and towards the end of the journey, after the 100th hairpin turn, I too feel a bit nauseous and find myself releasing the belches of a soon-to-be vomitter. Thankfully, we arrive back in Sorrento triumphant, with both our digestive systems intact.
Hold on tight and don’t look up - sometimes in life, that is the only way to ride the bus.
