The Sun Set

JAKE: It's about time to hit the dusty trail. As Chad and Jeremy sing, "they say that all good things must end someday. . ." Blah, blah, blah. I call it the vacation frustration or the trip dip or the vacation degradation. I'm willing to take any suggestions you might have. It happened to me at dinner tonight. The feeling that this is pretty much over and you have to go back to the real world. It can be a downer, but oh well.

Tuesday, we decided to do nothing, that's right, absolutely nothing. Sure, we could have pulled out our Rick Steve's guidebook and seen what we had missed so far, but he's the one that says the Italians in this area have the saying of "the sweetness of doing nothing." It it so sweet, it tastes like gelato. We slept in, took our time getting ready, soaking in some sun on our balcony and headed to Amalfi. We at a lunch facing the piazza, guessed some nationalities (which should definitely be a game show), and moved to another outside spot to sip a cappuccino. We decided to head for the beach, which was quite the people-watching spectacle. One might say that if the piazza was the indie film that might have won some Sundance awards, the beach was the summer blockbuster. Take every quirky nationality and put them at a spot that reduces the amount of acceptable clothing (and I use the word "acceptable" and "clothing" loosely). You know how we post rules in the US everywhere about shirt, shoes, and service? I can't find those signs in Europe. I have decided to discuss these issues in our last remaining sidebars.

SIDEBAR #1: I have heard that women suffer from a self-image problem, and I'm sorry, I struggle to see it at times. If you can honestly look yourself in the mirror and say that you should be wearing a bikini, you don't struggle with your self-image. There were a lot of people at the beach (Americans included) who stretched every last inch of elastic to tie those bikini straps together.

SIDEBAR #2: Speaking of bikinis, everyone's favorite, the male European swimsuit. Bikini bottoms. First off, many of the men who wear these need bikini tops, because of their "moobs." Second, one guy opted for just using his underwear as his swimsuit. Really, just that? We later noticed he actually had a normal-looking swimsuit as well but thought everyone needed to see him walk around in his underwear. If I did that in the States, I would have to go door-to-door in my neighborhood to let them know I moved in. Thirdly, do you want your kid hanging around a beach with creepy guys in next to nothing scoping out the scene. Which brings me to. . .

SIDEBAR #3: Why aren't your kids wearing clothes???!!! What about sand and water says it's okay for your kids to be completely naked? I'm not referring to kids under 2 or even under 3 or 4, but between 5-13. A little girl should be wearing a shirt. I feel uncomfortable sitting nearing a young girl just playing in her underwear (not a swimsuit, underwear), especially when a 10 year-old boy is getting completely naked 5 feet away. Can you not change before you get there? When creepy thong guy is standing nearby, do you want your little boy/girl taking all of their clothes off in plain view? Also, what's the point of using their undershirt to wipe them off when they get out of the water? When they put it back on, aren't they getting sand and water back on them? Euros are very odd at the beach. Luckily, no one used the beach as a public toilet (that I could tell), which brings me to . . .

SIDEBAR #4: There was a restroom near the beach that I needed to use. I had to pay 1 Euro (over a $1) to pee. More than a $1???? If I must have to pay, and I have had to several times on this trip, there better be a piano player in the bathroom, a man in a tux turning on the water and providing fresh linens for my hands, and the cleanest urinals I have ever seen. Are you surprised to learn this isn't the case? No, while there might have been some elevator music playing, they're rarely clean, and a creepy guy, who choses to spend his days inhaling poop fumes, handed me one small paper towel. One tiny paper towel and where have his hands been? I don't trust the guy hanging out in the toilet area has the cleanest hands. Maybe that's my issue. Plus, to top it off, the lights went off when Julie was using the restroom. Guess what, no refund. If you have to pay to use restroom, the lights should stay on.

There are so many minor annoyances in traveling to a different country, and I only give Europe a hard time because I know it's a well-developed area, yet they choose to act like they don't have or want modern conveniences. These annoyances are nothing and don't come close to ruining our trip. Italy is really amazing, the food and scenery are very unique. All of the Italians we have encountered have been really nice as well, save for the few annoyed ones; however, Americans are generally the most irritating international travelers, rarely attempting another language. Italians aren't ugly in physical appearance, it's just their manner of dress. I say that because they say is the fashion hub, but please they're wearing what appear to be starter jackets without a logo everywhere. Plus, since France and Europe kick our butt in food, culture, and wine, I like to have something on them. I hope to be back soon and hope to hear from Italians telling me what's wrong with USA, which I'm sure is very entertaining. Until then. . .

Capri (pronounced Crap-pee)

Sorry, we just have to vent. After quite a debate as to whether we should wake up early and spend the money to take a boat to Capri, we finally decided yes. Neither one of us was super excited for it, but Julie made the argument as to whether we feel worse for going or not going. Unfortunately, it was the former. Capri sounds like some wonderfully exotic island for the super wealthy, kind of like the Monaco in island form. Be warned, it is not. There were parts of the boat ride, surrounding the island, that were nice to look at, but the island itself is nothing special. We didn't think it was prettier than anything we had seen, and chances are, if you're going to Capri, you're also taking in the rest of the Amalfi Coast. It's overcrowded, overpriced, and overrated. The buses there were, surprise, packed!!!!! Let's just say the guy in front of me could tell how many pieces of gum were in my front pocket. There were only about 10 seats on the bus, seemingly reserved for locals who cut in front of the line. This was the good thing about Capri, it had very organized lines for the buses, but every local went straight to the front. We ate lunch there, and I had a pizza that I think would have made the Domino's commercial as a failure that the CEO would promise to fix. I ordered a Caprese pizza, which came with arugula instead of basil. Here is the definition of Caprese Salad. Go ahead, click on it. I realize I sound like a food snob, but if you have ever read this, you understand. Basil and arugula are not similar. So, I scraped every piece of arugula off of the pizza and put half on the plate and half on the table. When the waiter picked it up, he spent a while trying to get all of the arugula on the plate. What a joke! You can't get a pizza named after your "Crapi" island right? Congrats!

We then opted to take a chairlift to the top of the island to get a great view. Apparently, in the island of excess and overcharging for things, they didn't opt for the quad-seat chairlift. We took a circa-WWII, wooden, one-seated chairlift to the top that must have escorted the French army to the top like lemmings. The view was quite awesome until the memory card in my camera stopped working and opted not to show any of the photos from our trip. Luckily, I had downloaded all of the photos up until that morning, but nothing on the boat ride and so on had been captured. Hopefully I can fix this when we get home. All it did was anger me more at the island. Julie tried to coax me down the chairlift with the promise of gelato at the bottom. It worked until we were next in line and about a thousand Italian students stormed the gelato case like the fat kid seeing the chocolate river in Willy Wonka for the first time. Have you ever heard of lines????????? Fortunately, the lady knew we were next and ignored their pleas for cioccolato. They were swarming us, and I had to use my backpack and a few shoulder shrugs to fight them off. Luckily, they saw a famous Naples soccer player and went nuts like American kids with Justin Bieber (equally unimportant). JJ, hopefully know who this soccer player is. Apparently, he is very handsome according to the Italian lady Julie asked (JJ, maybe ask Travis, he knows handsome men).

We took the peaceful boat ride back and relaxed in Amalfi. We ended up back at a familiar restaurant and had a very good meal. Next up, our last peaceful day.

you know he's hanging by a thread

Ravello (Rhymes with Jell-O)

Why is it important how you say Ravello? Well, I guess it isn't, but Julie and I have this ongoing debate about pronouncing things. It's not really even a debate. The truth is, Julie is awful about pronouncing anything foreign. She knows it, but I give her a hard time because it's soooo bad. Ravello seems like an easy one, but it got called Ravioli, Rovello, Roviolo, Ravolli, and so on. I finally told her it rhymes with Jell-O, and she said that would help a lot (it didn't). Quite honestly, I think this makes her very charming to Italians because she will try but they don't know what she's saying and they start speaking English.

Anyways, Ravello is a town set above Amalfi and Atrani. It's about a 3 mile, very curvy, drive from Atrani. We took a very jam-packed bus to get there.

SIDEBAR: Why can't we stand in an orderly line for the bus? I don't understand why this is impossible. Once the bus shows up everyone forms a mob circle and starts pushing towards the door. I would like to say that the Brits and the Americans don't have any part of this, but it's everybody.

Ravello was an awesome little town. It was bigger than Atrani and smaller than Amalfi. It wasn't too busy and offered amazing views of the vineyards, lemon groves, and ocean below. We toured a gorgeous garden that wasn't even in full bloom and ate sandwiches (the size of a baby's head) on the step of the church facing the piazza. People-watching in Europe is lots of fun. Especially, our game (previously mentioned) of trying to guess one's nationality. We've added a new one specific for Italians: Are they mad at each other or just being Italian? I attempted to buy two bottles of wine from a lady but due to miscommunication, I only bought one. Plus, she tried to make me feel like an idiot for asking about a wine that I know they make in their town, saying she had never heard of it. I know I wasn't pronouncing it wrong because it wasn't an Italian name (Klingsor). Odd that it has been on every restaurant menu, and that I later found it in Amalfi. We took a very steep walk back down, foregoing the crowded bus. The views on the way down were amazing. We seemed to be walking through lemon trees and almost through people's yards. It was a walk comparable with CinqueTerre.

We rested our tired legs and then made our way into Amalfi to mosey. We ran into our Aussie buddies, which was kind of nice since everyone in town is always stopping to talk to someone, so it made us feel like locals. We struggled to find a restaurant to eat at because we wanted something new but didn't want to get burned. There was a nice place way up the road somewhat secluded from the tourists. It wasn't bad. We both decided that the "fresh" mozzarella we ordered was the worst we had in Italy. The gnocchi was okay, but the simple fish was great. The owner showed us the fresh fish before he cooked it and ran out to show us it fresh from the oven. It was really simple and delicious. Now the debate is do we do Capri tomorrow, Monday?

it was a long way down. . .

a very good and very fresh sandwich

Pompeii & Mt. Vesuvius

JAKE (I've made this blog. . . interactive!!!) : So we decided to see some old stuff, some well-preserved old stuff. We boarded a fairly full bus to Pompeii right in our town of Atrani. Our first annoyance (because annoyances are funnier) was that the bus wasn't full, but there were not two seats together. Julie and I had to split up. We later learned after our Pompeii stop that some spouses weren't sitting together, which is why we couldn't.

SIDEBAR #1: You don't need your own seat on a crowded bus, especially if you're traveling with someone. Julie said we saved some couples marriage by forcing them to sit together once we got back on and chose to sit next to each other. Not only did we save their marriage, we saved them from looking like a bunch of jerks for forcing people to split up.

Anyways, we had a random tour guide who spoke as we were driving there which I don't like because it keeps me awake. Once at Pompeii, we were both surprised at the size of it. It's like a sprawling metropolis, albeit a destroyed one, but quite large. Our tour comprised of us having these little wireless receivers so we could hear our tour guide as we walked around. It was really cool to see, but two hours was a little excessive. One of the highlights was one of the couples on our tour got separated. We could not find this guy's wife, and he kept calling her on the phone trying to figure out where she was. ("Where are you??" "I'm by some crumbling wall with some rocks on the ground." "Which wall?" "The one that's falling down." "Where?"). That's how I imagined their conversation going. It was funnier because they were German and he had those creepy glasses, you know, kind of like this? They were finally reunited and we couldn't tell if they were arguing or just being German (like this). Next, we had lunch at some awful looking cafeteria, where our tour guide kept telling us what a great deal it was to have a pizza, a drink, and a horrible cake for 13 Euros (about $19). I would have rather have scored this deal, though our's did not come with complimentary diarrhea. The upside of our lunch is that we met some delightful Aussies. We educated each other about our respective countries. Their 7th grade daughter wanted to know if it was true that you could get burgers anywhere. Very funny perspective from Aussies (since they're from the Isle of Criminals, I made sure they didn't take anything. . . they didn't).

Next stop, Vesuvius. An active volcano that hasn't erupted since 1944. Julie was a bit nervous about the hike up to the top, since she didn't want to be a part of a future Italian museum. My bigger concern was the wind, which was amazingly strong. I would gust (pun intended) it was blowing around 40-50mph. However, if my biggest weather condition complaint on a volcano is the wind, I guess I should shut up. It was a rather steep hike, but not too long. We were able to see smoke and an amazing view of the sea and cities below. Unsurprisingly, we crossed some Europeans smoking at the top. Pretty sure these people would be lighting their cigarettes with the lava flow as others run past them.

SIDEBAR #2: Port-a-Potties are the second-lowest form of using the restroom, just above peeing outside. However, there should be a decent gap between the two. We both needed to use the restroom and there were Port-a-Potties at the base of the mountain. Of course, it being Europe, these needed to be a bit off. Instead of a hole, like most toilets, they wanted you to pee on a sort of conveyor belt and hand crank it past a brush or a some type of spray thing. Perhaps this was a great idea 95 years ago, but the hole is sufficient. It is not an improvement to see someone else's refuse pass by smashed into a conveyor belt. Just a tip in case anyone reading makes these, though I hope they're still not in production.

We then got forced to go to some crappy factory/showroom where they make jewelry, which I can only assume was to pad our tour guide's pockets. Very classy. Remember the German guy? He almost got on the wrong bus.

SIDEBAR #3: Why did we pay for a tour only to have to pay for our own lunch, our hike up Vesuvius, and our tour guide and bus driver want tips? Really? You're going to have to impress me a lot more than that before you get a tip. I did have one tip for our tour guide. She had a cold sore the size of Mt. Vesuvius that a doctor should probably look at.

We ended up at dinner in Atrani at a highly recommended place. Unfortunately, it was not as good as we hoped. It was still a good meal, but not like the last couple of nights. The service was very poor, but we did have some good seafood and good desserts.

Positano

JULIE:

All of the small towns, along the Amalfi Coast, are incredibility steep with LOTS of steps. This is no exaggeration; in fact, depending on the direction you go, there are between 168 – 246 steps to reach our apartment! We started off our day by walking to the town of Amalfi and getting a pastry and a cappuccino. If you recall, yesterday, I mentioned that Southern Italians are extremely picky about how individuals pay for things? Well, the pastry shop decided that they don’t accept credit cards and asked for specific money (i.e. if the bill is 16 Euros and you give a 20 rather than getting 4 Euros in return we were asked for another Euro so they could give us 5 Euros back). We then caught the bus to Positano. Positano was absolutely charming (even with the rain!)! Rome was great however I didn’t realize how busy and hectic it was until we arrived in Atrani and again was reminded of the peacefulness and slowness of life while in Positano. After emerging ourselves in the “Positanoain” culture we took the sea ferry back to Atrani.

JAKE:

After relaxing back in Atrani in the rainy weather (which involved me drinking a delicious Danish beer in the rain on our balcony), we had dinner reservations in Amalfi at 7:30 pm (think 5:30 pm in the states). We walked along the side of the road, with Julie hugging the railing and not liking that I took us through the tunnel instead of the long stairway around the tunnel. It felt really odd walking into an empty restaurant and announcing I had reservations. This was definitely one of the nicest meals we have had. Since no one else was there, they surrounded us taking care of everything. The bathroom had a very fancy faucet I could not figure out how to turn on for about 5 minutes. We received an amuse bouche that looked like sushi, but it was rice and had some fish and citrus fruit on top. We then had a salad with pecorino cheese and lemon and orange slices and it was drizzled with honey. The lemon slice was tart but not inedible. Next we split pasta with mussels and tomatoes, which was also excellent. For our main entrees, Julie ordered halibut that was mozzarella encrusted (we think), and I had pezzagogna, a local fish, served with chickpeas. Of course this was good as well. Our desserts were simply stunning. Julie ordered a cappuccino that was kind of the consistency of crème brulee. I had a chocolate cylinder filled with lemon ice cream and surrounded by fresh fruit. If you watch How I Met Your Mother and our familiar with the Best Burger in NY episode, our conversations about these desserts were similar.

SIDEBAR: We are very easily impressed with nice bathrooms here because it’s amazing how far behind us the Europeans are in bathroom technology. I use the word technology loosely because it shouldn’t be hard to manage a decent bathroom. More to come tomorrow on their awful settings.

Sorrento

JULIE:

Our first official day on the Amalfi Coast and we choose to sleep in(!) then take the bus to Sorrento. Before we walked to the town of Amalfi to catch the bus (the major bus stop is in Amalfi therefore buses frequent Amalfi) we stayed in Atrani for lunch. We decided on a restaurant via Chowhound.com, as we started to enter I stopped as I noticed there were not any patrons in the seaside restaurant and the staff was eating lunch. However, the owner graciously welcomed us and encouraged us to find a table. So in all my awkwardness I chose a table next to the staff. Lunch was pretty basic – I got spaghetti with tomatoes and mozzarella and Jake got pasta with shrimp and zucchini.

Catching the correct bus was nothing short of an experience – we read that pharmacies or tobacco stations sell bus tickets however this is not really the case – bus tickets in Amalfi are sold inside of a “Bar” (not a traditional American bar – more like a coffee bar) a very grumpy and wrinkly lady asked where we were going and sold us two 24 hour bus passes. We then crossed the street where there are about 20 different busses stationed. As buses arrive everyone at the bus station flocks to the bus (the people barley have room to get off) and the people waiting are pushing their way on. Now Americans are very line oriented and Europeans are not so this organized chaos was a bit stressful for Jake and I. The other stressful thing is the buses don’t list where they are going so I started running from bus to bus asking the driver if they were going to Sorrento (the buses pack people in like sardines and we decided we wanted seats so we had to know which bus to push our way on to). The bus ride was about two hours and for some reason buses make both Jake and I very sleepy. So we fought off the sleep in order to take in the sights of the coast. That being said the scenery was beautiful however I prayed the entire way as the roads are extremely curvy and narrow (think – one lane Trail Ridge Road with hairpin curves).

The guy sitting directly behind us kept saying that he doesn’t do well on buses and was feeling really sick, however that didn’t stop him from loudly announceing everything he was doing and that his wife shouldn’t be taking pictures from the bus because they wouldn’t come out, etc. It is at times like this I understand people’s distain for Americans. We casually strolled through Sorrento of course stopping for a cappuccino and took in the quaintness of the town.

SIDEBAR – When paying for something Southern Italians want the exact change and often only accept cash.

We, or Jake I should say, found the bus stop to get back to Amalfi and ended up waiting for about an hour – the bus we finally got on was either really late or really early – we aren’t sure which. Several people at the bus station started hailing taxis, as they were tired of waiting. We had a fantastic dinner last night in Amalfi (thanks again to chowhound.com!), for starters we had smoked mozzarella wrapped in lemon leaves, ricotta with prosciutto and a pizzette. For my entrée I had au gratin beef with artichokes and new potatoes and Jake had Veal Cheek with potatoes (the waiter recommended something for him so we aren’t exactly sure what it was). I finished with an assortment of sorbet (pineapple, lemon and strawberry) and Jake concluded with an all lemon dish (lemon sorbet, lemon crepe, lemon log and a lemon puffy thing). I would recommend this restaurant to anyone - it was absolutely delicious!!!!

The Amalfi Coast!

JAKE: We spent our last morning in Rome going back to our new bakery stop. I guess they specialize in Sicilian pastries, though you could tell me that and I would never know the difference. We are already recognized after three days, but we still have no idea how to order other than pointing. This was made more difficult by us choosing to sit down and highlighted when Julie tried to order small pastries and received cookies. Perhaps the Italian Cookie Monster says 'P' is for cookie? We then camped out in our lobby after checkout before heading to the train station.

The train stations in Europe always seem creepy. There are too many people hanging out seemingly not going anywhere, and I always imagine that's how terrorists travel (too many movies/books about terrorists). We caught our train and actually had a very pleasant ride all the way into Salerno. Salerno was bigger than I expected and the train station equally as creepy as everywhere else. We were supposed to meet a taxi driver here to escort us to our place in Atrani. Of course, I had no way to tell who he was, so when I went inside to the ATM, Julie scouted him out by spying a folded piece of paper with "LANIER" written on it. When I came out, she was trying to explain who we were and where I was. His English was not good, so I finally showed him my passport and he was relieved. We then began a crazy drive with super windy roads. Sergio was a very safe and calm driver, despite people passing him with no room to pass. I believe he was driving slow for us, especially with Julie's quiet cries of terror. It was a quiet drive, only interrupted by Sergio's ringtone: "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga. . . odd. Who hurt you, Sergio?

We arrived in a very secretive garage with an old lady and a high-school aged lady. Mariana, the young lady, was translating for Madame Sylviana, who owned the place. We had tons of instructions on how to use the apartment and ascended as many as stairs as we did in CinqueTerre. They were extremely accommodating, and this apartment is wonderful, complete with free WiFi, a small washer, a fridge stocked with beer, milk, water, and fresh lemons, and an amazing view of the town and the sea.

For dinner during our first night, we ended up at a casual pizzeria which apparently doubles as a karaoke bar. While eating my fish sampler, some old dude was setting up a synthesizer and electronic drums (whatever you call them). Also, a monitor and some mics were set up for karaoke. He then began to sing along to Italian songs while drumming. One of the waiters would walk around with the mics to get the patrons to sing. We were the only foreigners there and had to sing a little bit of "Tu Vuo Fa L'Americano" and of course, all of The Police's "Every Breath You Take." When the waiter said this song is for you, was he saying that because it was in English or were they trying to tell us they'd be watching us our whole time here? It's tough to say. The highlight of dinner was Italian Mel Gibson (circa 1980's) was singing along. He pretended not to care at first and then clearly cared as he never gave the mic up after that. Did I mention his hair was glorious?

The downside has been the temperature. It's kind of cold and windy. Thursday morning, as I write this, looks beautiful out, but is a little on the cold side. Oh well.