05/18/2015
Getting the change was no big deal, and we were soon on our way. About a millisecond after making a super difficult left turn across traffic, I realized I wasn't wearing a helmet. I left it on the seat of the scooter next to ours when I was looking for a trash can for my tissue. Josh was ahead of us and taking off like a rocket. (Italian driving didn't take long to rub off on him.) tony pulled over and I jumped off telling him to catch Josh and come back for me, I'd walk to the helmet. He came back a bit later, but he hadn't found Josh. As soon as we got back through that left turn, Josh came down the street, he'd noticed we had disappeared. We pulled over to wait for him to make yet another pain in the butt left turn, except he didn't see us and thought we'd kept going; and zoomed right passed us again.
We tried to catch up, but we lost him. And with him, our directions. We didn't know where the store was exactly, so we just kept going around and around. I could have pulled out my phone and looked up directions (I knew exactly where we needed to go), but my phone was securely locked in my bag under the seat, and Tony didn't stop. After much meandering, we finally saw a familiar looking statue and landed where we needed to be. Just in time to see Josh pop out of a cafe with some gelato. I'm serious... love affair with the gelato!
We fixed the shirt, got a snack, and headed off for "home". We managed to return he scooter with five minutes to spare.
(We passed these statues in our walk home in a "parking lot"; read: a patio where they park a car or two. I thought they were real for a half second!). The detail is incredible, and anatomically correct, so the other pics aren't going to show up here.)
Canadian Tony had said that I should look in the electronics store for the espresso pot I wanted. It was nearby, although going away from town on a narrow two lane road with no shoulder. So, of course, we walked! Alas, the electronics store only sells electronics. She says there is "a shop" if we walk back the way we came and take a left. I thought I knew which left she meant, we didn't. The left we took was the route to our apartment, and there was nary a "shop" to be found. after that, I promised Tony there would be no more excursions for the coffee pot, as we were leaving for home at four the next morning and still had to pack. Home we went, a little lunch, and some packing, before we went down to the beach to be lazy with Josh and Alana. Up the 93 stairs, and down the 300; followed by 300 steep, deep, craggy stairs back up and another 93 down to get home. I must admit, I was a little glad this would be our last trip there and back.
We went for last last meal at Armandino's, and said goodbye to Armandino's. I should have gotten a picture with him, but I didn't. We layer out some blankets and took a nap on the beach. Do y know how relaxing it is to fall asleep to the sounds and smell of the ocean? It's heaven! But then I woke up thinking about something I could no longer remember, and couldn't fall back asleep again. In y boredom I was digging through the pebbles and discovered that there was pieces of tile that had been worn smooth in the ocean. Like sea glass, but sea tiles. Naturally, I collected some and brought it home. I might put them in one of my fish tanks or something.
On the chairs next to mine are a bunch of English speakers with a baby. I tried not to make faces at him. I tried not to hear their conversation. But when they started discussing their plans for the night, and the response was "what's nearby?"; I simply could not help myself any longer. I asked if they wanted some of the knowledge I had been collecting over the last few days, and they did. Not in that "get the creepy woman to stop talking to us" way, either. I told them about ouf favorite restaurants for dinner, the hotel that serves breakfast, the boat tour to Capri, scooters, Positano and Sorrento, Tutto per Tutti, and anything else important I could think of. They were from Canada, and very nice. After a few rounds I peek-a-boo with Baby Liam, "mum" let me hold him and we played. He was so squishy, and I missed my boys something awful! I gave him back before things got weird and let them get on with their vacation.
After a relaxing afternoon, we headed back up... for the very last time! We stopped at Tutto per Tutti (the market) for dinner things and some wine to bring home. The Italian's turned Tony into a wine drinker; how could we not bring some home? While we checked out, I asked Pascuale about the "shop" we had been unable to find earlier. He said it was only 10-15 minutes away on foot. Not only did he give us direction, but he drew a post it note map. I was debating on whether to ask Tony if he was u to the trip, when an American couple followed us out and asked where they too could find the amazing espresso pot I sought. Off we went!
We followed the map that started at the Piazza Moressa, the small square just above the market the we pass through any time we left or returned to the apartment. Take the road leaving the Piazza, up for a bit, go through the arch, walk through the square in front of San Luca's Church, and the hardware store is the "shop" with all the stuff piled out front. You can't miss it! You already know we missed it, right? Because you should.
We took the road and walked for a ways, until it became obvious that this was a residential "road" and that it had been unused for some time. The return trip took us back to the top of the steps to the apartment, where Tony went to put away all our groceries and I decided to continue on the quest for the coffee pot. Back at the Paizza Moressa, we found another "road" that we had never noticed before in all our comings and goings. A "via" is more like a nondescript pathway between buildings.
Up the pathway, the via continued to be a stairway to heaven by way of hell. And then the Boston couple (who hate their accents and cover them up) realized they only had a half hour to return their scooter and head back down. Not without some lamenting about leaving me alone without Tony. Because Italian strangers are so much worse than Bostonian strangers? I send Tony a text, "If you get this before I get back, I'm fine, just walking a million stairs?" He got it the next day.
There's a fork in the road, both paths end in the same place, and both have stairs, so I take the fork to the right. I'm heading up, huffing and puffing, and stop to take a break. I've been going uphill for two hours since leaving the beach. A German couple I passed a few minutes ago passes me again from in front of me. How did this happen? As I'm sitting there, she asks if I'm all right. English! I asked them if I was in the vicinity of the hardware store. They look at me like I'm a little crazy, explain that I'm close, but had I taken the other fork it would have been faster and with significantly less stairs. All I can think is that I can now drink my wine with negative guilt when I get back. If I even find my way back. Google Maps might be amazing, even in Italy, but this darn international plan is unreliable. Next time, I'll just buy a local SIM card at a newsstand in the airport when we land. It's actually cheaper that way!
I follow these directions, and I'm at San Luca's in 3 minutes!
(It turns out San Luca's in an evangelical church, which j find a little ironic in Italy.)
(The piazza in front of San Luca has an amazing view.)
I am so busy admiring the scene, I actually walked past the store, and had to come back a bit. I walk in, and there are three guys talking at the register, it looks like two are haggling. I meander about.... and finally find my espresso pot! Hooray! I go back to the counter, and proceed to try and catch my breath while the men glance at me like I'm losing it. I was too tired to listen and attempt to translate. Now it's my turn and I open my wallet to find a single, solitary, five euro note and some coins. Do they take a card? Of course not! Tony had all the cash, which wasn't a problem until right now. I've come this close, only to fail now? Much talking amongst them men in rapid Italian, quick perusal trough a small book filled with handwritten notations in pencil. A phone call. Another phone call and a quick conversation. The proprietor says "Kasai?" I say "ristorante?" He says, "Si!" and smiles. He says I can go to Kasai and pay there. Wonderful, but I don't know how to get there from here. He gives me directions and I hope in my head that I can get Google to work. Then I thought, I have to come back up that darn mountain? I debate how much I want the coffee pot. The man hands me the coffee pot! "Pay, Kasai." You've got to be kidding me! Nothing like that would happen here! I might be moving to Italy. If I go missing, search Praiano for the super pale woman with the the Irish last name. That's where I'll be. Also, I'm almost thirty and it's odd to refer to myself as a woman, which in itself is on. On with the story...
I'm heading out the door, probably looking dazed and confused, when one of the men's says to come with him. A guide? Sure! Then he gets in his car. Um, no, thank you. I probably totally offended the nice man. He says "is okay!", and I respond "I walk!" And, then, by some miracle, I run into the Canadians from the beach, who were just leaving their apartment! I'm saved! I hurriedly "Grazie! Buona sera!" to the probably offended Italian and dashed off. Then I begged the "mum" to use their restroom. Seriously, espresso, stairs, and long hikes don't mix. Their apartment was at the top of another four flights of stairs. I've kinda given up caring.
Google is now working and says I need to go to the end of the street, and actually street that could fit a whole super compact car in it, and go left. At the corner i see it. The mistake I made this morning after the electronics shop and this road that I'd walked passed more times that I care to admit to or even were aware of. It was right here the whole time! I'm saddened for myself and my lack of direction. At least it was tempered by the only sunset photo I took, which happens to be amazing. The woman with the curly hair is Michelle from Canada, Baby Liam's aunt.
Down the road we land at Kasai, from which they'd ordered take out pizzas and hadn't known the name of the place. They say goodbye, and I continue in. It's 7:45, but still a little early for dinner, so the place is pretty empty. I find a waiter and explain that I'm the one with the the coffee pot, in case carrying around the pot wasn't clear enough. He ask if I'd like some cold water? What? Like I'm breathing hard, red faced, and sweating profusely? I don't mind if I do! And he didn't even charge me for it. Moving to Italy? More likely at this point. I down the water, and the refill, pay for my adventure, and am on my way another ten minutes back to the apartment.
When I finally arrive, I hear the guys' voices in the balcony:
Not only are they drinking without me, but they had no idea what time it was or how long is been gone, alone, all over the mountainside. If I go missing, please, somebody look for me. I mean it! Tony trusts me too much that I'll find my way back, apparently.
To illustrate, look at the above photo. Do you see the title White House that sticks out about one third of the way up the mountain from the left side of the frame? That's the Canadian's place. To the right (and above the cluster) is a two story white/beige building. That's the hardware store. To the right of the is a yellow building with a terra cotta roof. That's San Luca's. Do you see the tree and white building that pop up from the horizon? Directly below that is a big pink building, the Hotel Margherita where we would go for espresso. The keep moving right to the end he of the mountain, white building is where Kasai is.
Does that give you an idea of my adventure? I hope so. I'm actually surprised I can still pick out these place from the photo, two weeks later! I'm shocked at how much I've forgotten already.
Josh and Alana took off to Kasia for dinner, Tony and I cooked some pasta and asparagus and whatever food was leftover, since we were leaving at four am for the airport. We finished packing, dishes, collected dirty towels, and cleaned the apartment. There was another group arriving tomorrow afternoon, and Canadian Tony and Eddie had to do the cleaning as they couldn't get a service here soon enough. We tried to make it guest ready, short of laundry.
It really was a great day. It was late (10:30), we were exhausted, and the 2:50 alarm came way too soon! I would do it again in a heartbeat.
Fine! (The End!)
(Vacation adventure to be continued in about two years when we likely go to Paris.)
No comments:
Post a Comment