Got up at 7:30AM. The body is just getting used to waking up later than my normal 3:45AM just in time for the work season to kick into full gear when I get back.
The Mrs is still sleeping so I headed to the Pastacceria where I went last night to take photos but forgot the camera battery. Took some nice photos at the old school joint and a short video, had an espresso and headed back to our room at Maison Giulia. Packed up and hit the streets to head for Positano via Naples.
The plan is to use the tour bus passes that we bought yesterday and were good for 24 hours to get to Termini Station. From Termini Station we would take the train to Naples where we’d pick up a car for the rest of the trip. Come to find out the tour buses won’t allow full sized luggage so we hopped on a city bus which only cost one Euro and was a hop skip and a jump from the tour bus stop.
We get to Termini Station with 10 minutes to spare to grab the two hour train to Naples. There was three options for trains- one, two or three hour trains. We opted for the middle one which provided what we considered the best intersection of price/time spent on the train.
Once on the train there was this old Scottish dude and his heavily makeup’d wife in our seats.The Mrs was ready to throw down with the cagey old dude but instead of socking him she just heaped our bags right up against him until his wife decided that she would go find other seats. When 70 year old Scottish Snookie found seats in the next car over they decided to move. I helped the guy move his stuff because he had huge bags and can sympathize with anyone who gets in the way of The Mrs’ wrath.
So our car consisted of us and 4 other youngsters who were either late 20s/early 30s. They didn’t speak a lick of English but were really friendly. So far I’d say 80% of the people I’ve spoken with can manage some English.
So as I type this it is 1:08 PM and I’m not gonna lie-I’m a little scrt of driving from Naples to Positano. I haven’t driven a stick in ages and for whatever reason the idea of marked driving lanes is not the norm here in Italy. As I said in yesterday’s entry, it’s a free-for-all driving and being polite on the road is the exception not the rule. I drive like an old lady. It was something that my dad taught me a long time ago- “the difference between driving like an asshole at 85mph to get to the mall and driving a more reasonable 65mph is only a couple of minutes of your time”. You risk getting a ticket which ends up costing you thousands and you risk getting killed. So that was the driving style that I adopted. Slow and steady, not tailgating and without stress of trying to get past everyone all the time.
Something tells me though that my driving style is not gonna jive with the Formula One racing style I’ve seen exhibited on the streets of Rome.
So as our train ride nears it’s end, if this is my last entry when someone finds my iPad, know that I love you guys and it’s been great knowing you. If there’s a ceremony back home in the States for me I don’t want any of you crying. Hopefully there will be plenty of laughs, the way I’d want my memorial service. A bench on Main Street would be nice too.
Wish me luck though, hopefully I’ll navigate the Amalfi Coast just fine.
4:15PM
Observations from Naples.
I don’t suppose it would be fair to judge Naples based on the train ride in from Rome and the bus ride from the Naples Central Train Station to the Naples Airport just like it wouldn’t be fair to judge Boston based on the ride from Logan through Saugus. You would assume both are complete shitholes.
I will tell you this though. As soon as you pull away from Rome you see lots of green and beauty. As you near Naples you see row after row of run down tenement buildings. From my view that I did get to see it would seem that everything that Rome gets right, Naples gets wrong. The ride which was about 20 minutes from Central Naples Train Station to Naples Airport to pick up our car looked like what I picture war torn Iraq to look like. I’m not exaggerating in the least. As clean as Rome is, Naples is THAT filthy with trash EVERYWHERE! Broken signs, broken run down buildings, gypsies EVERYWHERE. We could not get our car and get out of there fast enough.
So we get the car an even though I haven’t driven a stick in ages I picked it right up. The highways outside of Rome apparently are marked off for lanes which is nice. Im not sure what the municipal thought process is in Rome as to consciously leaving out the marked driving lanes but my guess is that it goes something like this:
Roman traffic department head-
“Guys, I know and you know that our road system on a map looks like a bowl of pasta. We could spend a whole lot of time and energy trying to figure out how to mark these lanes for driving or we could just say screw it and get a pastry and coffee.
All those in favor of marking the lanes? *crickets*.
All those in favor of pastry and coffee? Here! Here!
It looks like pastry and coffee it is. Let’s table this discussion for the next century”
The drive along the Amalfi coast was exhilarating. I enjoyed shifting through the hairpin turns of the Amalfi Coast and the further we got from Naples, the more beautiful and scenic it became. The only thing that freaked me out was the rice rocket cyclists who would zip in between you and oncoming traffic with inches separating them from my side mirror. Once again The Mrs who doesn’t do well when she isn’t fully in control was screaming at them as if she would change their driving habits. Uhmmm, yeah, no.
The great news is that we made it alive and unscathed and Positano is truly one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. Right up there with Hanalee Bay. Rome is hands down the most beautiful urban city I’ve ever been. The place is just layer upon layer of texture.
Dinner on the beach in Positano was mussels far diavolo for me and steak for The Mrs. Finished off with cappuccino and a cannoli. Positano is obviously a playground for the wealthy. The boats are sleek. The people are chic, the restaurants abundant. Looking forward to relaxing a bit tomorrow.
Good Morning Gloucester 