As we wait for the ferry to depart I spot a beautiful Italian specimen standing on the dock with his shirt off. He has perfectly carved biceps, a sextant to die for and tattoos in all the right places to accentuate his body. I am taken in. I stand and stare for a good long time. As we board the boat he checks us out a bit. He is one of the boatmen that grace this area of the planet. As we are seated upstairs another man that Elida is familiar with asks her if she would like to go to his room. I meanwhile take pictures and since we are upstairs do not see the other man. I offer to take a family photo for some Italians and they are grateful. The trip to Capri is breathtaking. We sail along the Southern Italian coast and then out to the island where I am certain Sirens inhabit. Sorrento looks impressive from the boat with all its buildings perched on the edge of the sea, high above on the cliffs with staircases winding up.
As we disembark the two boatmen flirt with us unceasingly. We are getting on a smaller boat to sail around Capri and to the Blue Grotto but they don't stop. The boats are parked next to each other and they beckon us back and blow us kisses and yell compliments, telling us how beautiful we are. We are eating some of our fruit and they ask, why no olives and cheese? I return a few kisses and compliments as well. Who could not appreciate what he had done with that body? It was well deserved. Elida tries to snap a photo just as we are leaving but is too late. Darn! It is etched in my memory anyway.
On the smaller boat we begin to circle the island. It is breathtaking with stunning high white cliffs, sharp edges and azure blue water below. It reminds me of the Sirens calling Ulysses because the coves look so enticing but so dangerous at the same time. I take what seems like a million more pictures and then we arrive at the Blue Grotto. We have a bit of a wait until the rowboats will be ready to take us in.
When the first rowboat arrives Elida and I are standing in the back of the crowd but Mario, the oarsman, waves the two of us over. He is handsome and strong with lighter features; blonde hair and blue eyes. He loads Elida and I in the back of the boat which gives us plenty of space to spread out. He then loads a couple in the tiny front triangle. They are cramped and uncomfortable but Mario tells them it is romantic. It is soon clear why he has made these choices. As we row into the Blue Grotto he turns to me and says, "I will have to lay back on you a little." His strong arms have to pull us into the cave by a chain while he hovers slightly above me.
The grotto is an amazing crystal blue. It is a tropical blue, deep and reflective. Mario is singing to us, not the romantic couple in the front. His singing is beautiful, enchanting. Another boat rows up and he also sings to us, leaning over his boat towards Elida and I. Mario asks me, "Do you want to swim?" I don't think he is serious so I question him but he is not joking. I wholeheartedly say, "Yes!" I jump in in my red dress, underwear and bra. Before I enter he asks, "Do you need to change?" I say, "No" and jump. The water is soft and smooth on my body as I imagine an Italian man would be. It is a very short swim because we are headed back out of the grotto. Once again forgetting the, act helpless advice, I power myself back up into the boat in 2 seconds flat. But this time, it works for me because I can tell Mario is impressed. I love the way he looks at me in obvious appreciation. We row towards the cave entrance and again with grace Mario leans back on me. I imagine he is a good lover, tender and sweet.
As we climb back aboard the other boat a British couple shocked exclaims, "Did she go swimming?" I smile and say, "Yes." My dress dries in the breeze as we make our way around the island.
Elida and I have decided today not to say the word No. We were yes girls for the day in Capri. I've lived up to it so far.
We continue to sail around the island. There are tall cliffs reaching to the blue sky, many grottos and arches where our boat seems to barely squeeze through. Birds soar high in the sky near the cliffs. There is one grotto that has the shape of Mary in the cave. Another has an arch that you could barely swim through but we are not stopping to swim. Beneath one arch our guide says it is good luck to kiss so I give Elida a smooch on the check as we pass through. He, of course, says it has to be a French kiss for good luck to follow but the rest of our trip would prove him wrong.
We return to the port and ride the funicular to the top where the town sits high on its perch, a nest looking out for enemies. Once there we stroll through small streets where they use small carts, the kind you would only see in an airport back home, to move things around,. We first visit the cathedral which is small but no less beautiful with its domed, painted ceiling. We head towards the gardens and window shop in all the expensive shops. We order some gelato and walk more. The gardens sit high overlooking two coves of azure blue water a staggering distance down the rigid white cliffs. We sit on a bench and take in the impressive beauty of a place God allowed us to visit.
We continue on through the narrow streets and stumble upon an art gallery with a wonderful exhibit. We step in and gaze at the work while Elida examines it closely. She asks some questions of the two ladies and eventually is able to give them her card. The owner says she will look at Elida's site right away.
After walking for hours trying to take in the stunning beauty of this place we head back down to the port. We make the last ferry and as we are waiting in line we talk with a man from Argentina. He tells us about his trip to the Amalfi Coast and makes some suggestions since we are planning to go there tomorrow or the next day. As a ferry makes its way into the port I turn to Elida and say, "Thank goodness that one is going to Naples and not taking us." It had large dents and a rusted side. It had obviously been in a collision or two. The,n of course, it backed up to our dock.
At least if the view of the boat is ugly the view on the boat is good. Handsome Italian men sit all around us. They caress us and undress us with their eyes. I am holding my breath after one such encounter when suddenly Mario appears. He chats with us a bit and then leaves. Strange. When the boat is getting close to the port in Sorrento Mario reappears again and ushers us to the exit, telling us to hurry and follow him. We do just as he says. As we walk off the boat we talk. He offers me a ride up the hill on his Vespa, "but I don't have room for your friend." I tell him, "Take me anyway," and laugh. He is fast, like most Italian men, and quickly figures something out. He arranges a ride for Elida with a friend.
My first Vespa ride is thrilling. I am hanging onto Mario with my legs while in my red dress and my arms are wrapped around his strong middle, remember he rows for a living. He drops me at the top of the hill because there is no helmet for me and he would get in trouble if he took me further. We chat about our lives as we wait for Elida and her ride. He has two girls. I tell him about my boys. He looks at me with this look of wanting to ask me something but doesn't and then he drives off.
"Today was a ten!" we both shout.
On the walk back to the apartment we laugh at her scooter ride versus mine. I was on a sleek new Vespa, she was on a old junker one that barely made it up the hill. Her driver was just a boy and we laugh that she almost had to push the thing to start it. We imitate being on a kid's scooter without engine. We are laughing so hard.
At the beginning of our day we had asked for two gorgeous Italian men to take us to dinner tonight, voicing our idea to the universe. Instead we return to the hotel to find Jorge has made a reservation at Bufalito. So one incredibly handsome, charming Spanish man it is. We have to quickly change and shower because the reservation is at 9 and we have arrived home at 8. I scramble and put on my new sexy blue dress. Elida dresses to the nines again in yet another hot outfit and we set out walking to the restaurant with a fuzzy directions on how to get there in our minds.
We find it after passing the street only once. We look for Jorge but he has not arrived. And we were worried about being late! The hostess asks if we are waiting and we say there is a reservation. She shows us to our table which is set for three, two chairs on one side and one on the other. Not sure where we should sit, Elida tells me to sit on the double side.
By dinner time I have lost my voice from all the smoking that Europeans do. I can barely speak. This should be good. Jorge arrives at last. We shared plenty of good laughs. Elida tells the waiter he has to make the night special just for us.She tells him he will never forget her and then makes sure he doesn't. He laughs. He is cute and young in black rimmed glasses. It does seem we get special treatment except that the order is slow.
We all share red wine. Jorge has a beer. I order a delectable meal of pasta with roasted veggies. Jorge has the buffalo and it is good too. Jorge asks if there is anyway to, get my voice back. "A shot of Limoncello would probably do it," I answer. He orders all three of us a shot. After mine my voice begins to come back. He is so excited and his face lights up. He flags the waiter down and orders me another. This time he tells me I should sip it. I've already had plenty of wine and now a couple of shots and should be feeling it but something about the wine in Italy doesn't impact me. It is the same as the coffee. Somehow both are a little tamer; yet another surprise about Italy. We close down the restaurant and then of course go for a stroll. We walk down to an overlook to gaze at the sea.
Our perfect 10 day ends with a beautiful perfect 10 night. Off to bed we go for some much needed rest.
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| The port at Capri |
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| Another view of the port |
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| Myself and Elida on the boat around the island |
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| Inside the Blue Grotto |
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| Us in our roomy rowboat, just before my swim |
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| A unique lighthouse perched on a cliff |
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| White Grotto |
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| Arch we sailed through |
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| In the garden we rested and took in the view |
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| The view from above of the beach and road down |
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