The 5 Second Rule

Driving the Amalfi Coast

If you are a parent, you undoubtedly have heard of the 5 second rule.  I have decided there is an adult version of the 5 second rule as well. If you walk into a fabulous hotel clinging on the hillside of a fabulous Italian town on the Amalfi Coast, it should not take more than 5 seconds to convince you that the rest of your travel plans must be cancelled so you can extend your stay.  Good bye Montalcino.  You have just been replaced with another night at the Hotel Poseidon in Positano.  The day spa, exquisite restaurant menu, seaside views and beautiful room will more than make up for a day of possibly mediocre wine tasting.  And besides, the hotel has a great wine list, so who needs to drive around in the hot, sweaty countryside battling mosquitos and too-narrow one way roads?  Once you've seen 10 medieval towns, you've seen enough.  I am ready to kick back and relax.  And shop.  And eat and drink.  If I'm not home in a month. please don't send the search party!  Arrivederci!

View from the balcony of our room

La Dolce Vita

We left Matera this morning, and it felt like we were saying goodbye to family.  Our hosts Vincenzo and Karla have created a beautiful and restful retreat in Matera, and we feel like they made us part of their family while we stayed. 

This morning we were served a wonderful treat - a French clafoutis, which is a dish of baked cherries covered in a flan-like batter.  It was delicious, especially when served with a cup of hot, strong espresso, and sweet, fragrant homemade strawberry jam spread on fresh bread made in the style of the region which, according to Karla, gets its unique and delicious flavor and moist texture from the locally grown wheat. Below is a picture of our breakfast today.

What?  You don't see anything?  Well, sorry, nothing left to see but cherry pits. You didn't really expect us to leave any for you, did you?  But you might be able to notice the fullness in Bob's stomach if you look hard enough! 

Views from the breakfast terrace

After leaving Matera, we headed west to Pompei, and had more fun and games on the Italian Autostrade.  Autostrade, when translated to English, means "auto straddle", which is a a quaint local way of describing how to drive on the freeway.  Remember, white lines are more for style than anything else - just like pinstripes on an Armani suit.  We enjoyed photographing the local wildlife driving down the roads.  I'd like to mention that none of these drivers were in the process of changing lanes at the time these photos were taken.

This roadsign is more of a dare than a hazard warning

On several occasions our two lane road became a de facto three lane road, as cars passed in plain sight of oncoming traffic, knowing the drivers in both lanes would simply move to their respective side of the road, leaving the white center line open as a third lane.  Sadly, we passed more than 10 floral roadside memorials in just one 50 kilometer stretch, and it made us wonder how many others there were without bouquets of flowers left behind?

Not So Bad Afterall!

Just before the Moment of Truth

Actually it was pretty terrific.  After we got there, that is.  I set the alarm on the phone for 7 AM.  I forgot that the battery had been out of the phone for a while and the phone's clock had reset.  So when I got up at 7AM, took a shower, washed my clothes and laid them out to dry, and packed our picnic for the day, it was really 5 AM.  Good thing Bob had turned on the laptop to check his email and noticed the discrepancy in the time. 

I worked on my blog and email while Bob slept, and then at the real 7 AM we got ready, had breakfast, and left for the 1 1/4 hour drive to Castelmezzano. Well, maybe Italians could make it in an hour and a quarter.  We got lost getting out of town, then got on the freeway in the wrong direction, then got lost again getting off the freeway.  We arrived in Pietrapertosa about 10 minutes before we were scheduled to take the zipline from Castelmezzano -- we were in the wrong town.  Va Bene!  No problem.  The operators quickly rescheduled us and instead of flying from Castelmezzano to Pietrapertosa first, we did the trip in reverse order. 

It was incredible and fun.  Getting into the sling was a little awkward, and no one around spoke English so we did a lot of charades, hoping they understood what we were saying and vice versa.  "Blah-blah-blah-issimo", we heard.  Did that mean, "If you start to fall out of your harness over the gorge say a quick prayer and enjoy the ride to the bottom?"  About this time I was wishing I had found the wooden rosary store on the ferry from Croatia.  Once they had me strapped in they attached the parachute, the purpose of which was to slow me down at the end.  It was about 1 foot square.  What???   Was this some sort of cost cutting measure?  Don't they realize how much I weigh? I start to complain.  "Tranquila, Tranquila!" the operator coos, just before she slyly unclips the safety line holding me to the platform, and off I go, too stunned to scream.  It was really great, though. 

Once I opened my eyes and caught my breath, that is.  This first leg, from Pietrapertosa to Castelmezzano, is the short leg, and not as steep as the return flight.  The only scary part is landing, when you get closer and closer to the side of the cliffs and it seems you will run into the huge steel supports at the end. But you don't, and just when I was beginning to relax it was over.  I was actually looking forward to the return trip.  

We had about two and one half hours to spend in Castelmezzano, whch was a really beautiful but tiny town. Unlike the other towns we'd visited so far, this town had sort of a Tyrolean feel.  It was up in the mountains and must get snow in the wintertime.  When I was flying into town, I soared over a marching band that was playing and marching up the road to town ("Where did they come from?" I wondered. The nearest town was Pietrapertosa, several miles away up a steep cliff), and by the time Bob and I had landed and got a shuttle to the piazza outside the church, the band had reached the town square and was continuing to play.  We realized Mass was just about to start in the church so we decided to join in the celebration, and it was pretty interesting.  It was the feast of the Assumption of Mary - that's why the band had come to town - and the church was packed.  There was a nice choir during the service. We noticed the guitar player's music was not written in notes or chords but rather "Do Fa La So Re" etc.  Very interesting.  Bob called Communion a free-for-all because just like everywhere else in Italy, people pushed and rushed into the aisle jostling for position - no orderly row-by-row procession like we have at home.  And there were nine altar servers - about 60% of whom were girls.  Bob referred to two of them as bodyguards becaused they seemed to go everywhere just ahead of the priest, as if they were ready to take a bullet for the team. 

Another thing we noticed -  people here are VERY small.  We felt like Amazons.  There were only two people in the church taller than me, and I think they were tourists.  I could see over everyone's heads from the back pew.  Most of the doors to the buildings in town had a regular sized door and a midget's entrance that was about 3 1/2 feet high. 

After services, there was a parade with probably every soul in town, the priest and altar servers, the band, and a statue of Mary raised up onto a platform carried by some of the children.  A loudspeaker coming from who knows where started playing Salve Regina loud enough to be heard across the valley.  After that finished, the conductor struck up the band and everyone started processing to the east side of town.  That took about two minutes. Then they returned to the west side of town - another two minutes. then up a side street - one minute - then back to the piazza.  Fireworks ensued.  They sounded like (and probably were) M80's along with some fountains which sprayed about 50 feet into the air.  The rain had started to drizzle at the start of the parade, and was now coming down fairly hard, so everyone retreated to one of two local bars.  A shop selling clothing was passing out its umbrellas to bystanders - presumably they would return them to the display window after the storm passed. 

We had to leave to get back to the pick up spot where we would be taken to the starting point for our second flight.  We wondered what it would be like to rush through the rain at 120 kilometers an hour but luckily, the cloudburst passed and although it was overcast, it was dry.  I started to get a little nervous but realized the developers of the zipline had thought of everything.  To take your mind off the upcoming journey, they made you climb about a mile up an incredibly steep hill, so you were so exhausted and had no blood left in your brain to think clearly about what was to come.  Unfortunately, the hill leveled off about two-thirds of the way there, so I stalled by taking pictures of every kind of wildflower I could find along the trail to the launch pad.  I am sure some devious civil servant had planted them as another distraction to keep right-minded people from turning around.

One of several hundred wildflower pictures I took while stalling on the hike to the launching pad

Once at the top, I could no longer avoid the inevitable so I took a couple of swigs of Patron, strapped into my harness, and took off.  This ride was even better than the last one.  Although it was longer, steeper, and farther off the ground, the tequila did its job and I was able to look around and  enjoy the incredible views.  Sadly, it ended too soon but I can honestly say it was one of the coolest things I've ever done and I wish that everyone could try it.

Bad Judgement

What was I thinking?  What the H-LL was I thinking when I booked this zipline excursion?  We are getting ready to drive over to the "Flight of the Angel" which should really be called the Curse of Satan!  80 miles per hour, over 1500 feet off the ground.  Twice!  There and back.  OMG. What was I thinking and where are the good drugs when you need them?  Thank God there is still some Patron left in my water bottle from when Bruce came to visit.  I wonder if I have time to attend Mass before we depart?

If I should not return from this adventure, I wonder if people will say "Well, at least she died pursuing her passion!"  As if getting hit in the head at 80 miles an hour by a seagull is anyone's passion. What was I thinking???

Alberobello and Matera

Today our travels took us from Bari (which had some surprisingly fashionable and stylish furniture, kitchen, and clothing shops) to Alberobello, home of the Trulli houses, and then on to Matera, where a good portion of the town is carved into the side of sandstone hills and was the setting for the filming of Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ.    

I found two awesome little stores in Alberobello  which I’ll tell you about.  The first was a shop that sold linens hand-loomed by women in the village.  There is a corp of about 30 women who work out of their Trulli homes making table cloths, placemats, aprons, etc.  We chatted for a while with the shop owner, a younger woman who had grown up in the home behind her shop and whose mother was one of the loomers.  There were three motifs that she sold from her store – grapes, which symbolized prosperity; peacocks which symbolized fruitfulness, and flowers which symbolized fidelity.  In the end, I purchased a beautiful linen tablecloth with a burgundy colored grape motif woven into it, and some dishtowels which will make nice gifts. 

The other store we stumbled upon was a food store, selling only items made in the town.  There was an assortment of salamis and cheeses which we tasted but did not purchase (too tempting for Bob), opting instead to buy a whole collection of absolutely delicious items such as a truffle spread (incredible), an artichoke spread, a spicy red tomato and pepperonata spread, and an assortment of jarred eggplant, zucchini, and artichokes in various flavored olive oils.  This is going to be the core of our picnic lunch with some fresh bread and wine over the next couple of days. 

Wine and hors d'oeuvres to sample

Best place for a picnic!

Alberobello is a UNESCO World Heritage site, but I haven't done my research to learn exactly why. It is home to the ancient Trulli houses, which are conical shaped homes with stacked rock roofs.  Many of the roofs have magic symbols painted on them.  They are all whitewashed and are very picturesque to look at.  It is amazing to think the people here have had families living in these homes for centuries.

Our cave room - my camera does not do it justice

After leaving Alberobello, we drove through the countryside where large fields of hay had been cleared and rolled, and little trulli farmhouses dotted the fields.  Then we would come across fields covered in arrays of solar panels - the mix of modern and medieval was very interesting.  The drive to Matera took less than an hour, so we checked in early to our B&B, aptly named La Dolce Vita.  Our room is a cave carved into the hillside, with a little skylight window, tastefully decorated with new  tile floors, antique decorations, and a charming fireplace.  Inside, it is cool and refreshing, a nice contrast to the warm humid air outside.  The owners are a friendly and attentive young couple with a new baby (so cute!) and I would like to ask them how it is they came to settle in this unusual town.

Courtyard outside our bedroom

After checking in, we took a walking tour of the city and saw some interesting sights.  A good part of the town was built around the 10^th -12th century, and refurbished many times over the years.

The little city has over 22 churches, including a large Duomo at the top of the hill and several smaller churches devoted to the Benedictine nuns and monks who lived here in the middle ages.  With so many churches, the bells ring incessantly, but at least they don't start until 7 AM and it seemed that 9 PM was the last chiming for the evening.

Note the coffin shaped graves haphazardly dug into the rock

The cemetery was very unusual – since there is no dirt, the graves were scraped into the rock, the bodies placed inside the carved holes, then the holes were filled with mortar and rocks.  No gravestones or markings except for haphazardly placed coffin-shaped patterns on the ground.  (We learned just before bedtime that our room is directly below one of the cemetaries.  Yikes!)  When walking down the hill from the Duomo, we stumbled upon a music conservatory where the orchestra was rehearsing.  Although the doors were closed to visitors, we could sit outside and hear some beautiful classical music - violins, horns, woodwinds - wafting through the piazza.  A few doors down, a gifted pianist was practicing finger exercises.    We are hopeful there will be a concert while we’re here, but if not we may just go down to the square for a drink or dinner to listen to the students.

He seems to be sayiing "Get this thing off my head!"

As the sun set behind the city, we noticed maybe a hundred people gathered on the cliffs across the river gorge from the city.  The area has some ancient caves carved into the hills, but it is generally uninhabited and looks like a park or nature preserve. I think the view of the city with the sun setting behind it must be beautiful and maybe tomorrow we will join the throngs with our camera.  We finished our day with another walk around the perimeter of the town, then a casual dinner and off to bed.

Handy Tips for Driving in Italy

We have been in Italy for about 24 hours now, and have already assimilated the language of the road. For those newbies out there who may wish to take a driving tour in this fine country,  I will share some important knowledge we have learned.

a.     When driving on a small road having one lane going in either direction and a white line painted down the center,  do not assume the line is in any way marking the boundaries of each lane.  Drive freely on any side of the line you prefer, or simply straddle the line and honk vigorously if anyone gets in your way. 

b.      Be sure to always drive as fast as you possibly can;  circular road signs with numbers inside them such as 30, 50, or 80 are not speed limits, but rather the number of sedatives you should ingest prior to entering the roadways.   

c.       Never pass another car on a straightaway.  Wait for a blind curve instead.  Also, whenever passing, do not worry looking in front of you for oncoming traffic.  Look behind you instead so you can dart out suddenly in front of other drivers who are already in process of passing you.

d.      Don’t worry if the road you are driving on seems to end in a set of stairs.  Simply drive up or down the stairs, and honk at any lazy pedestrians who get in your way.

some stairs have convenient concrete ramps build right in

e.      Paid parking lots are for German tourists.  Real Italians use the sidewalks. Pedestrians, on the other hand, use the streets.

Parking is more of an art than a science

f.        Stop signs are just suggestions.  If you actually do stop at one, prepare to be rear ended.

g.       Don’t be fooled into thinking that old people will drive conservatively.  They can chat and text on their cell phones with the best of the Italians.

h.      Signs displaying pictures of cows and wild boars indicate the proximity of the nearest salumeria and should be regarded similarly to stop signs.

i.         Look out for sexual predators carrying away children on the street.  You will know which areas are prone to this type of attack when you see the following sign:

Poor little Susie.  She never had a chance.

Remember – life is not about the final destination, it’s about the journey.  And the best journeys do not always travel directly from point A to point B, which is good, because in Italy it not actually possible to travel directly from point A to point B (unless you take the Autostrade, but that is the subject of a whole other blog).

Girls Only

We have an 8 hour ferry ride from Dubrovnik to Bari and I am enjoying the people-watching immensely. Not just any people.  Italian people.  Male Italian people.  Bob got all his ogling in on the topless beaches of Croatia and now it’s my turn.  A lady siting next to me on the deck begins smoking and I use this excuse to get up and move closer to Fabio. I am sure his name is Fabio.  Or maybe Antonio.  He is tall, dark and incredibly handsome, tastefully dressed and sitting with a not-too-attractive woman who is wearing a wooden rosary around her neck. 

In fact,there seem to be many women wearing wooden rosaries around their necks.  The men, on the other hand, clutch theirs, fingering the beads and praying.   Maybe there is something I don‘t know about this ferry.  Most likely the women are praying their men will grow to look like Fabio, and the men are praying for the same.  I noted that this ferry has two bars, two restaurants, and a chapel on board.  Several people are inside it, although I can’t tell if they are praying or just enjoying the fact that there are padded airplane chairs inside it, rather than the selection of hard benches outside.  There are also two shops, but I have somehow missed the wooden rosary store.  I will have to look further, in case an emergency arises.  The ship appears to have enough lifeboats but one can never be too sure about such things.  I have made a mental note of all the “muster” stations, where in the event of an emergency we are to gather to receive our allotted life jacket.  Uh Oh.  Stop typing.  Fabio-Antonio is taking off his shirt.  The whole deck is quiet.  He puts on his sweater.  Talk resumes.   Ahhhh.  The ferry’s engines are slowing and unfortunately I have to leave the inspiring Italian vistas and go below deck to my cabin to retrieve my luggage and prepare to disembark.  Italy, here we come!