Traveling Solo: A fortuitous airplane ride with two gorgeous men

We arise early to leave Spain with sadness headed for our adventures in Italy. Our first flight is to Barcelona and it is short. As we are boarding my bag is confiscated by a flight attendant claiming it is too big! Elida has just walked on board with three bags and her wheeling one is far larger than mine. She tells me they won't charge me for it but it has to be checked. I envision last year in Italy when I had no clothes the entire trip. I couldn't do anything about it and so I let it go. I said to Elida, "When I get off the plane in Naples, my bag will be there and at the baggage claim I will stumble upon a handsome Italian man who helps me." We take our seats. We are tired but say to ourselves, "We will sleep on the plane to Naples."

When we arrive in Barcelona we wander and find coffee and breakfast, a pastry for Elida and fruit for me. We look at the screens but our terminal is not posted yet. We wander through stores looking at shoes, bags, clothes and men. We see all there is to offer and it is a sight for sore eyes. We go for another cup of coffee and head to our terminal. Chanting Elida's mantra, "Only good things happen to me," I board the plane to Naples and graciously was seated next to a beautiful Spanish creation with ice green eyes, black wavy hair that stuck up in a tousled mess and black rimmed glasses which perfectly framed his tan skin that was silky soft. He had to change places with the third person in our row in order to sit next to me and he was funny because he immediately spotted Elida and I and thought we both were sitting next to him. "The two American girls, huh?" he asked. "Just one, she is behind us," I replied. I immediately introduced myself and quickly we began chatting, which lasted most of the plane ride. Elida was seated next to a handsome Italian with chisled features, sparse goatee, light hair and a sweet smile. She instantly made friends as well and we were both off, talking, talking and talking some more. After going to bed at 1:00 am and rising before 5:00 am, we should have both been exhausted but sleep was not meant to be. I think we gained energy from the boys around us.

Jorge has 3 kids and is recently divorced. He asks how long it has been for me and when I say 7 years he is surprised. He is the captain of a sailboat and lives on an island off the Spanish coast called Minorca. He studied economics first to go into the family business and after working it in unhappily decided to change the course of his life. He began to pursue a career in sailing. He currently works for a British family whom he met when he was an Au Pair for them. He tells me about the boat and how he obtained his license to sail. He chats a bit about his family but not much. I remember that time in my life and I didn't want to share either. The wound was too new and fresh. I didn't ask what happened figuring it didn't matter and he would have shared if he desired. We have a few pauses in our conversation and each time Elida is still talking. Jorge whispers, "Is she always like that?" I reply, "Yes," and chuckle. The man sitting next to us is a plastic surgeon and is looking at crazy pictures the whole flight on his computer so we joke and stare and get grossed out. When Elida gets up to go to the bathroom we tell Francesco he can feign sleep if he wants her to stop. He laughs but he is uninterested in sleep. He is very interested in Elida. As we are landing we exchange information with the two men.

Francesco is off but Jorge lingers. Elida asks, "What are you going to do?" I boldly reply for him, "He's coming to lunch with us of course." He agrees and we head to get my bag. It is the first one on the turntable and I didn't have to trip over a gorgeous Italian man to get it.

Elida and I freshen up as Jorge waits. When I return he is on the phone and is speaking quietly. He thinks I cannot hear or understand but I hear him say he is going with two beautiful American girls to lunch. The person on the other end is in obvious disbelief and he has to reassure. I quietly smile to myself.

We head out to the taxi stand and share a taxi into Naples to L'Antica Pizzeria Da Michele, famed from Eat, Pray, Love. Marcello is our driver and Elida sits in front with him. He is funny and like most Italian drivers, absolutely crazy. We almost killed two people along the way and could have easily died ourselves several times. Driving in Naples is scary business, think mafia on steroids with a hint of espresso. Men with overwhelming testosterone flex their driving muscles fast and furiously through these streets. If they drive like this, how must they make love?

Marcello says, "Aren't you going to ask me how I can speak such good English?" We laugh and say of course. He tells us he has spent time with an uncle in Australia which is how he learned his "perfect" English. He drops us at the pizzeria where the line is on the street. We unload our luggage, Jorge has none and prophesies we will hate him for making us tote them around Naples today. He is wrong. How could we hate such a beautiful gift?

We wait for our number to be called, observe and chat some more. People are smoking all around us, there are scooters jammed into every free space, cars are parked so close I'm not sure how they will get out. Finally our number is called and we go into the pizzeria and order; Elida and I order double cheese and a beer and Jorge cheese, not doubled and a beer. The pizza is delicious and simple. The little burnt edges on the crust are the best with that taste of fire. Double cheese is too much and Elida and I cannot finish. I give mine to Jorge who does his best to eat the rest. Jorge buys the pizza and then we are off for some coffee. We drag our luggage and mine is cooperative but Elida's is not. Jorge and I keep having to stop and wait for her as we walk and talk. We cross a busy intersection after spotting a cafe. It is almost as dangerous as the taxi ride. Naples has that edge to it and I like it. We order our coffee and the man at the bar congratulates Jorge on having two women. We laugh more. Elida and I pay for the coffee and then we are off to the train station dragging our luggage behind us. Elida has so much trouble with her luggage that Jorge ends up carrying it for her. I had better start looking more helpless. Jorge comments on the trash piled up on the street and the smell of the people who he thinks don't shower often. I am not as easily bothered by it. Naples reminds me of home. It is gritty like sandpaper but it rubs on you and gets deep into your skin and makes you shine. It is its own kind of beautiful.

We all have to head South, us to Sorrento and Jorge to the "concrete" as he calls it. It is the place where the sailboat is docked and its in a more industrial location.

The train is noisy and dirty with small plastic seats. We board before it has even been started up. It is hot and we are sweating. We do a few pull-ups on the bar above our seats and wait. When the train starts up it sounds dreadful like it may not make it out of the station but it does. It carries us along the water and through Naples and the outskirts. Apartment-like buildings line the railroad tracks, graffiti filled walls and gardens tucked between. It is the epitome of Italy to me, the contrast that I love.

At last it is Jorge's stop. We tell him of our plans the next day and promise to keep in touch. We continue on to Sorrento. Once there we drag our luggage again down cobblestone streets, eventually through the Via Fuoro, a narrow street lined with shops for tourists. Visually there is so much to take in; fruit stands with all the colors of the region, limoncello bottles bright yellow beckoning, clothing, shoes, jewelry, scarves and souvenirs. Cobblestone alleys jut out at each block and we peak down them gazing at restaurants and bars. These will be our haunts for the next few days. At the end of the Via Fuoro is a little grocery where we pick up a few items for dinner that night. Then it is just another block to our place, La Neffola. The green iron gate greets us at the entrance with fruit trees hanging over the walls. We ring and are let in and meet our host, someone Elida knows well from all the times she has stayed. Our upstairs suite is not available because the guests decided to extend their stay but we have another apartment down below. The hallway wreaks of wet animal but the interior is gorgeous. The apartment overlooks the street below that winds through the canyon down to the pier and across the way are more apartments with laundry hanging on the roof. Two windows open to view the city above. We have a large king-sized bed and a roll-away couch. There is a wrought iron table with two chairs, an amoire, a chest with dishes and cooktop with fridge beneath. Everything is here that we will need. We are hot and sweaty and decide to take a swim. We have to walk through the camping area and past the bungalows to reach the shore. It is a climb down rock stairs and when we arrive there is no one is swimming in the swimming area. We decide to go off the dock instead and a kind Italian woman shows us the way so as not to get cut on the coral. I manage to miss it but Elida does not. We stay in the warm waves until sunset, watching the bright orange sun as it slowly drops into the salty sea. Fishermen are out on their small boats and they watch us as we swim. When we get out Elida has two cuts that are bleeding but it doesn't deter her or I. We take some more of our silly photos and head back to the apartment, up the hill and then up the staircase that is hidden beneath vines and trees.

We sit down and dine on meat, cheese, wine, crackers and fruit. Elida lays down for a power-nap and once again I try my best but lay there restless ready to see Sorrento and thinking. We get up and go out. Elida dresses to the nines but I miss that message perhaps because of my lack of sleep. Its too late now to change and off we go. I thought we were out for a brief stroll since we have been up since before 5 am Spain time and it is now 11 pm. We had slept only four hours the night before.

Elida in her hot pink bottie pants attracts plenty of attention. Of course someone stops to chat and they ask us for a drink. They take us to the Piano Bar which is tucked away below some apartments. It is formed like a cave with white-washed walls and curving doorways. We wander upstairs and overlook the piano and singer. Their names are Raphaello and Luigi. We chat with them and Elida teaches Luigi how to Salsa after requesting a song. He moves his hips too much which doesn't allow Elida to move with her usual grace and speed. Instead of looking like a sensual movement it looks broken and painful.

Meanwhile, I talk with Raphaello. Elida pens the phrase later, "You had me at olive groves." teasing me about how much I liked talking to him. He talked of his orchards and the ground and his love for it. He explained that he could afford to pay someone to pick the olives but instead it was a labor of love to harvest them as a family. He was dark with wavy black hair and azure blue eyes framed by deep crows-feet. He has the typical button-down shirt unbuttoned to show his extremely hairy chest. He shares in his best English about his family; he is one of three boys, he sells shoes of the practical kind for older ladies in his village, his Mom still cooks for him because he doesn't want to eat alone and he has never been married. He talks about his traditions and how he inherited his land from a neighbor. I tell him he could will it to me when he dies and he laughs and says, "change the will to Heather." He promises to do so.

At the end of the evening they drop us at our place and we exchange numbers. I think about seeing his place because it has been a dream of mine to own something like he described. We are dropped at the wrong entrance and without a flashlight have to make our way through the camping area, orchards and other trees to find our way back. We are being as quiet as possible. It is 3 am when we get back to our room and though we are tired we stay up talking about all the wonderful people we have met that day. We talk about Jorge's sex appeal and Luigi's cute dance moves and of course Raphaello's olive groves. We wonder who we will hear from first.