Traveling Solo: The Amalfi Coast

We have decided to go all the way to Ravello today by bus passing through Positano, stopping at Amalfi, continuing on to Ravello and then ending our day in Positano. One of Francesco's friends had told us there was going to be a great party in Positano on this night and we are up for anything.

Once again we do not get an early start. We get our usual cappuccino and roll at our favorite place as well as our tickets. After lingering for awhile we head to the bus. The ride will be thrilling and we sit on the right side so as to take in all the frightening, edge of the mountain driving along the way. The drive will take us through small villages on winding roads, through tunnels where we sometimes have to back up and sometimes barely squeeze by another vehicle, up hills and teetering on the edge of cliffs so high that one wrong turn of the wheel could send us plummeting to our deaths. This is Italy and these drivers are Italian. They dress perfectly, they drive in a way that gets your adrenaline pumping and speak in a way that makes your heart flutter. They have such skill. They navigate with precision squeezing past one another even when it seems there is no room. It is a thrilling ride, better than most roller coasters I've been on. And it is surprisingly smooth. Only in Italy could they put those things together and make it work.

We visit Amalfi first. It is a village tucked into the hillside on the water. The main road actually goes down to Amalfi unlike in Positano. It is small but pleasant. We wander up to the duomo first and decide against going inside, after all it won't top what we have so far seen. Next we pass by the shops and stop in a few thinking about buying souvenirs but eventually putting them all back. We walk Amalfi in a matter of minutes. When we are finished we head back to jump on the bus to Ravello. We have enough time to grab a gelatto before boarding thankfully because it is hot.

The bus ride to Ravello is extraordinary. We now are winding into the mountains that overlook the coast so you get terraced vineyards on one side and white cliffs leading to the sea on the other. It is stunning and once again I am drawn in by the land and the care for the land; vines growing over twisted trellises, tomatoes drooping on the vine and orchard trees hanging heavy with fruit. There is such beauty in how they garden and grow things. I can breathe it in and not ever get enough. It fills my soul almost as much as being in the water.

Ravello is tucked high in the mountains. The road is more narrow than before and the bus has to stop several times and back up. One one side Ravello overlooks the sea, on the other the terraced hillsides of small farms. The buildings in Ravello are mostly white a striking contrast against the blue sea and sky and the deep green vegetation. There is one small town square and two gardens that are the focus of tourist activities but Elida and I decide to wander the alleys exploring the nooks and crannies. We find an art gallery tucked away on one such lane. We sidestep a garden wedding to take a picture by the sea. Next we find a tile shop that has tiles for every profession. They are expensive but the owner is so persuasive I almost buy one. He is handsome and kind and practices his English while I practice my Italian. He is generous about correcting me. The characters on the tiles are old-fashioned, like my ideas about life sometimes. We continue on passing gardens that I fall in love with of course and courtyards, steps built of stone and arches leading to churches. We have a bite to eat and head back to the bus. We are headed to Positano to end our day. Ravello leaves us with kisses and flirting from some men at the restaurant overlooking the ocean, an enjoyable stint on the curve of eyes looking with appreciation and a tranquil feeling in our souls.

The bus ride is long because the roads are so twisted and traffic cannot always pass one another so we wait often. We want to swim and are hoping to make it to the party but we will need a ride back to Sorrento if we stay. We make it in time to swim with the sun going down but the beach is shaded now by the high surrounding cliffs. Positano's beach is warm with rounded dark rocks that had baked in the sun all day. The water was warm with currents of cold running through. Small boats shuttle people back out to their awaiting yachts. The boat boys are fit and give us plenty of visual attention. The attention they give you makes you feel like a real woman, feminine and appreciated. It is enjoyable to be watched by them on many levels. Mentally it does me some good helping me to see that relationships past have not ended because I lacked beauty but instead because I need to learn something from each one. We enjoy watching the boat boys while we are in the ocean rinsing our cares away. The party is supposed to begin at 8 but it is 8 already and there is nothing going on.

While we are drying Elida dares me to ask the boat boys to rinse me off with their hose. This is actually one dare I turn down. It is way too bold and brazen.

It is decision time. We have jokingly asked Jorge to come and pick us up by sailboat but he says it is too far. We are texting him when we decide to get up from the beach. We are still wet from our swim even though we spent a brief stint drying off in the rocks. We put on our skirts, fix our bathing suit tops to look presentable and then head up to find out either when the party begins or where we meet our bus back to Sorrento.

We are directed back to the bus several times by the same man from a restaurant but we are so tired our brains get lost and disillusioned trying to figure out what to do. We finally pull it together, make the proper turn, pass a market where we pick up much needed food and head back to the bus. We are taking a little bus to the top in order to catch the bus back to Sorrento. We make it to the top of the hill just as the last blue bus pulls up to head back. Fortunate, yes. There was no other way we could have gotten back.

The bus ride back rocks along the same road but at night seems even more dangerous with just the tiny lights of the villages below tucked in by the sea. We are tired once again. Arriving in Sorrento we walk back to our apartment and crash for a nap. We need to figure out where we are headed for the next few days as our plans to go to Bari have fallen through. The distance and travel time meant we would not have enough time to visit Elida's friend. We decide to stay in Sorrento one more day.

After our nap we decide to go out. We are disappointed to be on our own tonight since the friends we have made so far are such wonderful people. We would much rather be spending time with Jorge and Francesco but still it is Italy and we are going to experience it. I am not really in the mood to be out on the town but I go anyway knowing my positive attitude will kick back in as soon as I am out.

Elida looks as beautiful as can be, as usual, and she is stopped by a man who is promoting a club. He asks if we would like to go somewhere. We follow him to the Beer Ba where we are taken to upstairs garden area and introduced to the owner. The courtyard garden area is up a set of stairs and surrounded by other buildings. Vines cascade over trellises and there is seating below. It is a lovely place to hang out if not for the young boys smoking loads of cigarettes. The boys chat with us briefly until they realize we are Moms and then retreat thankfully. We are brought drinks and speak with some interesting men. They are both African.

I am talking with Marouan. He is young, only 22, and speaks 8 languages. He is so eager to perfect his English. Maoruan means brave and after a couple of days getting to know him I realize it suits him. He has sad eyes. When I tell him I am a teacher he asks me to teach him more English. I agree. Marouan still hasn't mastered English and he has said some things that I find inappropriate at the time. After reflection I realize he just didn't know the proper way to say things. It is too bad I misunderstood. He has a story that is interesting and I would love to tell it someday. His Dad who had three wives and died when he was 15 which is when Maoruan struck out on his own. Brave, as his name means. He told me about his girlfriend who he missed immensely, a conversation that would be continued the next night. If only I had taken the time to appreciate all he had I could have written his story completely but I was selfish.

As we walked down the street I spotted Raffaello walking with his friends. I made a point to say Ciao and then asked what he and his friends were doing. He is with not only his friends but two other American girls. They are headed dancing and I think that sounds like a great distraction. I am invited and accept. I really want to dance but Raffaello is not up for it. We talk and have a drink. His friend is devilishly handsome and the American girls are easily distracted by other men so I talk with his friend for awhile. The friend is a driver of the buses that head down the Amalfi Coast. I laugh and tell him I have just come back. He asks who our driver was and I describe him. He says, "I know exactly who that is." We flirt casually and talk of the danger of that road and the nature of the person behind the wheel. We laugh. Raffaello is jealous that I am talking with his friend but it is my nature to question and get to know the people around me. The bus driver has beautiful creases by his wonderful eyes that are soft and full of light. Those creases are one of my favorite features on men and perhaps a weakness. I trace his lines and other men's as well on this trip. Those lines tell a story to me and draw me in. I feel when I am tracing them that I am learning some of their story, the meaning of their life. Raffaello has those lines also but his are more from wandering aimlessly, it is obvious the difference. I am attracted to the friend but continue to speak with Raffaello thinking of him as an angel sent to rescue me from Maruan. Foolish.

The bartender is also interesting. He is tall with dark wavy hair. He has butterfly tattoos on his chiseled bicep and I am curious what it means. Back home I am used to men tattooing with meaning so I ask. He explains that it means new life. Gorgeous.

I have met so many interesting people so far and Raffaello is just one. He owns a villa on a hill overlooking the ocean with olive groves and orchards but refuses to live there alone, solo. He instead lives and takes care of his parents. In turn his Mom still cooks for him even though he is 47. In the US this would rarely happen and if it did that person would be completely rejected by society but with Raffaelo I feel it is acceptable. He seems to have accepted it but later I learn different. He is longing to share something meaningful with a woman. His Dad has just been diagnosed with Alzheimer's and I feel an extraordinary amount of compassion for him and his mother. He asks me advice about women explaining his last relationship. Another pattern of mine is to give relationship advice. I talk to him about compatibility. It is obvious from his first few descriptions of the girlfriend that they are not speaking the same love language. He wants a family and is realizing that time has perhaps passed. I am not sure how he spent his younger years but his sadness reminds me of how much sadness is in the world. I try to be a light to him like I do with all others. I want to leave a bit of my beauty and joy behind with each person I encounter.

In Raffaello I see my own sadness in life and all of my weaknesses. It will take another day to find my thankfulness for all that I do have. Maybe I left that with Raffaello.

Another late night leads us to go to bed excessively late. Tomorrow I will have to rest. Being a light to people sure takes its toll on both Elida and I. She has also been a light tonight in a world of darkness.

So far we have met men with different kinds of sadness in their lives which might explain why they have sought us out. Elida and I are joy and as a preacher recently said, "people want to rub up against those with joy even if only for a moment." Hopefully we have helped spread that joy and in that joy love, God's love for all people.