The Amalfi Way
Okay, I know I’m cheating by skipping way, way ahead, but I think that I will be more likely to keep up with my blog each day if I don’t have a month’s worth of writing looming over my head. And writing frequently would be much better for you, right? I might add some stories of the Greek islands, but most of the stuff I would be writing would be of where I went, like “I went here and it was nice, then here and it was beautiful,” and I’m sure that will annoy you and I will get bored writing about it! And you don’t want to hear me whine about how many times I got cheated by the Greeks and got frustrated with their general disinterest.
SO! I left Patra, a very ugly, but I suppose necessary, Greek port city and went on a 14 hour ferry to Brindisi, Italy. It left at 5:30 pm and got in to Brindisi at 7:40 ish the next morning. I didn’t get much sleep since I had an economy ticket, which entitled me to all the comforts a stiff, partially-reclining chair can offer. But I was relieved to be in a new country. I passed through security, only having to say, “Americani,” and took the free shuttle bus into the city. I thought that would put me close to the train station but I had to walk about half an hour to get there. I had to split up the train trip because of the schedules, so I went from Brindisi to Taranto then Taranto to Salerno then caught a bus to Amalfi and walked to Atrani. Needless to say, it was a long day of traveling. And I accidentally got to see the heel of the boot of Italy (took a train to Lecce before I realized that it would return and pick me up in Brindisi if I had just waited). The scenery was beautiful–mountains in the distance and plenty of vineyards and olive trees. I sat near a nice, very old, Italian couple and we communicated as much as we could. I found that I can understand bits of Italian because of my years learning Spanish, but I can’t fool myself too much: they’re quite a bit different.
I arrived in Salerno and tried calling home, but forgot about the hour time change, so I caught Jordan instead of mom and dad, which is just fine haha. I boarded the bus to Amalfi and I took a seat on the left side because I knew that would provide the best views of the coastline. Man, what a hair-raising experience the trip would be! The road was TINY and the bus was HUGE. The driver would honk this ridiculous-sounding horn, which sounded like an ice cream truck or maybe a clown’s squeaky nose being pinched two or three times, everytime we came up on a curve. The bus had to come over practically all the way into the other lane so that the back of the bus wouldn’t scrape the cliffside. The cars that was were passing were literally 6 or less inches from the bus and, to make matters even more intense, there were people on scooters and motorcycles whipping in between the bus and the cars, passing the bus on curves, passing each other. It was insane. And it was that way for the whole hour-long trip. I got to Amalfi and started looking for my hostel using my trusty guidebook…NOT. I’m about ready to throw it in the Mediterranean because it has been so bad at giving directions. I called the hostel because I could not find it after about half an hour of lugging my bag around in the heat. Turns out my book left out the little detail that it is in the next town up from Amalfi. So I had to walk about 800 m to the town of Atrani. It was literally like a maze getting to the hostel. I had to follow the road around a curve, through a tunnel, down a huge flight of stairs that hugged a cliff, through a few archways then through a few back streets.
I arrived at last and received an extremely warm greeting from the hostel owner and was shown to my room by Filippo. I asked where I should eat dinner and he suggested a pizza place nearby. Nearby means different things to different people. That’s one of the most important things I’ve learned on this trip! haha. I enjoyed the quieter feel of Atrani and it was nice to be close enough to get to the more popular town of Amalfi. Later that night, I met my roomate who was from Taiwan. He had been studying Spanish in Spain for a few weeks. Through him I met an Australian girl, Leah, and we made plans to hike up to the town of Ravello early in the morning. Some locals, both named Luigi, told Leah that if you go early the mist creates a neat effect called the Dragon’s Valley. Apparently the mist curves along the winding valley and culminates at the end, looking like rising smoke. We didn’t see any of that, but the walk was still very pleasant. We reached Ravello after an hour of walking and it provided amazing vistas of the coastline and nearby villages. We saw the town church where there was a vat of blood from this guy who was beheaded by the Moors in the 1100s. They beheaded him because he helped women in childbirth and he saw things that were “inapproriate” for an unmarried man, in the Moor’s opinion. Some villagers collected the blood and it is on display in a specially constructed room of the church. On July 27th of every year, the priest of Amalfi takes out the vial (which is never actually touched) and holds it up to the light and the people gather around and watch as the top part of the blood becomes almost transluscent in the sunlight. We overheard an English woman giving a guide to a bunch of tourists and she said that she had been there several times to try to see the miracle and it does actually happen everytime. You can sort of see it any other day of the year although not to the fullest extent as you can on that day apparently. I lined up the light to the surface and the top portion of the blood looks like a lighter orange color, fading after about a half inch down into deep red. I would like to be there on the right day to try to see what actually happens. It fascinates me that Italy and other countries here in Europe keep such gross human artifacts, like the lungs of popes and the fingers of saints. Apparently, there is a church in Rome that has cherubs made from the bones of dead monks. I’m definitely going to try to see that when I’m there this week.
We started the hike back down to Atrani amid lemon groves and blooming jasmine. The scents were heavenly and the sunshine and view made the walk spectacular. We got lost a couple of times but we eventually made it. I caught a bus to Positano from Amalfi, reliving the wild bus ride one last time, and was in awe of the town that jumbled down a cliff to the sea. It was by far the prettiest town in Amalfitano. The bushes were all blooming and the sun was shining. I was with my friend from the hostel, Frost, and we walked down the biiiig hill into the town center and we got some Amalfitano limone slush. It was so delicious I had to have another two of them! There wasn’t much to actually see or do once we were IN Positano so I caught a bus after about an hour to Sorrento, where I would stay the night.
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