Day 7
Let me first say that this little two-room B&B that we are staying at is bar-none amazing, and completely worth the stair climb to get here. The view is gorgeous right from our door. There is a little terrace with two tables that looks out over the Mediterranean Sea.
The Palazzo Cocò (palazzococo.it) is run by Antonio, who is just as charming as the place. The room has a working air conditioner and an awesome shower. It's got 2 beds, one twin-sized and one queen.
As I previously wrote, last night we had a tasty red wine on the terrace compliments of the house, and this morning we had a delicious breakfast served with immaculate presentation on the terrace with tablecloths and our choice of beverages. I opted for coffee. "Strong or weak?" Antonio asked. "Strong," I replied.
He brought a small thermos and two espresso-sized cups up. I wondered where the Barbie-doll tea party was, but after one taste, I understood that the small cups were actually a safety precaution.
Coffee strong enough to make your teeth wiggle, but not bitter. No sugar necessary!
Along with this, we each had a supersized croissant, roll, and stunning scenery. The church below us has a bell tower that rings every 15 minutes, and somewhere someone is playing the piano.
It's actually rehearsal for a big dance festival going on here starting tonight.
Today has been a wonderful, dreary day. We had nothing planned, and have done a whole lot of nothing. We sat on a dock overlooking the Mediterranean, and were blinded by a large, older man in a green Speedo. Not quite as bad as Borat, but close.
We walked around a bit more out on a pier and by lots of boats, including a beautiful wooden sailboat. We saw some guys setting up what appeared to be fireworks, so maybe we will see some more tonight.
We found a beautiful little garden filled with foutains and flowers. The fountains connect through arched passages underground.
Everything moves a little bit slower here, and most shops close up for an hour or two at lunch and might reipen for an hour or two afterward before closing up for the day. Walking around in this dreamy little town has a sopoforic effect.
I'm reading Steven D. Levitt's "Freakanomics" on my Kindle (I know it is supposed to be underlined or italicized, but I am limited on formatting tools). It's wonderful to read on the veranda, with a slight breeze and a gorgeous view of the Mediterranean.
Walking up the 318 stairs to get up to our room means it's time for a nap. I realized I forgot my pen on the street downstairs hours ago, but didn't think it would still be there. I trekked back down, and sure enough, it was right where I left it.
We are planning on going out to dinner tonight, and simply relaxing. I'm going to call Continental tonight and see if there is an earlier flight available so we can do away with our 12-hour Newark layover.
That's it for today. It's been great.
Life Lessons:
1) Employees in bowties=expensive restaurants.
2) Eat early, otherwise it all gets stored in your butt.
3) Still true, and proven beyond all dispute: fat old guys should NEVER be comfortable enough with their bodies to wear Speedos, because no one else is comfortable to see them.
The Horn on the Bus Goes Honk, Honk, Honk!
The more I got to thinking about it, and after my hands stopped shaking enough to type, the more I wanted to share about driving in Italy, or more appropriately riding in Italy.
The moral of the story? Everything is out of your control. Close your eyes and hope.
Going up to Vesuvius was interesting, but more interesting was coming down. We were the first Vesuvius Espress up, so we didn't have much traffic. The road was winding and narrow. When we got to the top, our drive backed into a parking spot (that he made) and stopped when he felt the minibus (van) hit something. There were already three big tourbuses at the top. I wondered how possibly they made it up. That became painfully apparent on the way down.
We were stopped for about five minutes on the way down while two big buses that had met in a hairpin turn honked it out for supremacy. It ended with everyone--the whole line of vehicles that had backed up-- having to put it in reverse to clear the jam, all the while mopeds would zoom through the narrow gap.
I thought to myself it surely was nice to be on a smaller vehicle. This is ironic foreshadowing, by the way.
Turns out, the final bus that we had to take to Maiori on the Amalfi coast was driven by a man that worshipped the movie "Speed."
Do I really need to say any more? You all have probably either heard of or seen that movie with Sandra Bullock where there is a bomb on the bus that detonates if they drop below 50-whatever miles per hour.
Imagine this, but on mountain roads with blind turns and a huge tourbus. In addition, the driver apparently had a few important cell phone calls that he had to take.
A girl got on the bus, and must have found the driver cute, because she decided to go flirt with him while he was on his phone, honking the horn, swerving around turns... and shifting, because it was a standard.
Apply all of the 10 Italian Rules of the Road. Mopeds are exempt from all regulation, lane usage, common sense, etc. The lanes were actually marked for part of the trip up, but in typical Italian tradition, the lines were promptly ignored. Around some turns, cars had to stop and back up to avoid being smashed to smithereens by this barreling bulk of a bus. One car backing up hit the guard rail. Nobody cared. The bus rolled on.
Talking to Lauren and Chelsea who were on the other side of the bus and a seat up, I said, "I don't think three euros is nearly enough for this thrill ride."
They immediately started laughing. Apparently more people on the bus spoke English than I thought, because I got a few curious stares.
"Disney World costs more than three euro, and we only had to stand in line for 45 minutes, not three hours," I continued.
The more I thought about it, the better of a parallel it was, only Disney actually has to pass safety inspections and you end up right back where you started. And the view from a roller coaster isn't nearly as good.
Kevin: Worse than Crotchety and Rookie. No pull-offs. Everybody just passes on the turns.
Day 6 Addendum
I usually try to write as the day progresses to avoid this kind of omission, but yesterday we were so busy that I was unable to do so.
After Vesuvius, we visited Herculaeum scavi, which translates to the archaeological site of the Herculean ruins. The city of Herculaneum was obliterated (covered) by superheated mud and volcanic ash when Vesuvius blew its top in 79 A.D.
The site is still active, and preservation is an ongoing task. One can walk through this ancient city and wander through buildings, some of which still have intact roofs.
My shirts still weren't dry, so I clipped them with a carabiner on the back of my pack while walking around Herculaneum. It actually helped a good bit.
The city is truly fascinating. You can see original tilework and marble floors in some of the buildings. Some graffiti in Latin is still visible etched on the walls.
The columns are actually made out of brick, but are covered in a material that is sculpted to be columnesque.
The paintings and artwork in some of the buildings are still intact and are intricately detailed.
All in all, it is really a frozen moment in time when the volcanic matter rained down, instantly freezing the entire city in its tracks... Including the people.