My throat and chest are still itching where that bug stung me last Monday.
Today was “Walk of the Gods” day. Since the walk is only 8.8km, and mostly downhill from Bomerano to Positano, it couldn’t take more than 3 hours. I had plenty of time, as long as I wasn’t walking too late in the afternoon against the sun. That didn’t look like a problem today, the Gods had conspired to make it rain. So I decided to have breakfast at the hotel.
Yesterday, breakfast was being set up at 07:30, but I had to leave for the ferry to Capri. Today, no breakfast at 8am. Hotel guests were milling around in confusion. I texted the hotel manager at 08:40 that breakfast hadn’t arrived, and walked down to Centro, found that the ferry ticket place sold bus tickets, and that the next bus to Bomerano would be the Agerola bus at 10:15. So I had an hour, and found a nice little cafe/bakery place in a hidden corner of the village. Some of these places are so remote, in the far recesses of the labyrinthine lanes of Amalfi, I don’t know how their customers find them. I guess I did. On the bus, I gently reminded a couple in front of me that they needed to validate their bus tickets in the machine up front, to avoid being busted. We talked a bit; Janice and Andy, from Glasgow.
A lot has been written about the Walk of the Gods, much less about the Bus Ride of the Gods. From Amalfi to Bomerano, the bus continuously climbed the escarpment, weaving around parked cars, missing oncoming traffic, including buses, by centimetres. It was a tour de force of driving skill. Once again, the road was amazing, but this time continuously increasing in altitude. The driver tooted his horn continuously to warn oncoming traffic who couldn’t yet see the bus, that they had to give him the whole road in the corners. We drove into the cloud, and it started raining.
At Bomerano, the walkers alighted, a somewhat forlorn looking group. I donned my Goretex jacket and unfurled the umbrella. It seemed that there was a good chance I could walk down out of this. While I was figuring out which direction to walk in to get to the trail to Positano, Janice and Andy reappeared, equipped with newly purchased ponchos and umbrellas. They had done the walk 5 years ago and knew which way to go, so off we went.
And so it turned out, the rain eased off and scenery appeared as we descended. There were a couple more showers, but we had scenery, amazing scenery. At one point, completely remote, far from any road, was a modern house. How did they get the ingredients for a house here? How did they get the piano here?
After a while I moved ahead of Janice and Andy and eventually caught up with a group including a couple from Manitoba, Canada, and chatted with them for a while as we descended towards Nocelle. Upon reaching Nocelle, everybody unpacked lunch, except me.
For me, lunch was in Positano. At Nocelle, you can bus up or down from Positano, and a lot of people do, to avoid the thousands and thousands of steps down to Positano. They were endless.
It took more than 30 minutes, hardly stopping, to reach the road, then another 2km or so walk to the town. The main road actually skirts the town, high above, and it was hard to find a way down to Centro. I eventually found a stairway that twisted and turned, but kept descending, and before long I was in Centro.
Lunch. Picking a nice looking cafe, I approached the waiter. Uno person. Always a problem for them, fully occupied tables are more profitable, but there were many unoccupied tables here. It didn’t matter, but he wanted me to wait a couple of minutes, so I did, perusing the menu meanwhile. It was expensive, and not in any way special, so I walked out.
On the beachfront proper, a large restaurant was crowded, completely full, with people obviously having a great time. This was the place, I’d make this my main meal for the day, hang the expense. The waiter pointed me to the only vacant table I could see anywhere. The tables were packed tight, and I was adjacent to a couple from the American Midwest. We didn’t talk though, you mostly maintain your own private space in restaurants. I ordered gnocchi and a tomato salad. When you go a tier up from pizza, and order a couple of courses, everything improves. You get bread, the acqua frizzante is Pellegrino, in a glass bottle, cold. The gnocchi arrived quickly, very efficient, the parmesan sprinkled on immediately. Several minutes later the salad arrived, then the vinegar and oil, all seemingly by different, well coordinated waiters.
What to do, eat the gnocchi now while it was hot, or the salad? I started on the salad, and a waiter quickly appeared, saying he would keep the gnocchi hot. Wow! This was service.
Then it all fell apart. I finished the salad, which was excellent, but the gnocchi never reappeared. I ate all the bread. The American couple had finished their pizzas. When a waiter came to take the bread basket away I reminded him about the gnocchi, he seemed to understand. It still didn’t reappear.
I turned around and caught the eye of another waiter, who did understand. After a few more minutes a new dish of gnocchi appeared (no parmesan). When I remarked on this the waiter said we like you to enjoy your meal. Then I asked for a cappuccino (they are still better in Melbourne), finally il conto (the bill). As usual, only one waiter handles payment and I had to wait. He asked if I was satisfied. Actually, I was. The food was great, the service efficient (mostly) and polite. I was happy to pay the €3 coperto and leave a tip as well. Sorry about the excessive detail, it was only 5 hours ago.
If I owned a restaurant, it would be run like this one.
After lunch, I took a quick look around, and decided I liked Amalfi better, I may as well go back. The bus stop took quite a bit of finding. It was high above the town, on the road I had walked in on, from the east, earlier. At the bus stop, a lot of people were queued up to catch buses in both directions. In my direction, towards Amalfi, it looked likely that the queue would not fit in the next bus. Just then, Janice and Andy appeared. A taxi driver had offered to take them to Amalfi for €10 per person if they could form a group of 7 people. They had 4 so far. I signed on immediately, and they found another couple quickly, so off we went, the driver texting continuously on his phone as he negotiated the bends, and the lady in the front passenger seat practising her Italian with him. In Amalfi, I asked the driver to stop at my hotel. What do you say, when leaving people you will never see again? Have a nice life!
At the hotel, I decided to dry my shoes with the hair dryer in my room. Of course, it doesn’t work. Neither does the TV remote, even with new batteries borrowed from my torch. It will all go into my review.
It’s 7:30pm, time to walk down for a beer and a gelato. No, a coffee, I’m tired of falling asleep in the evenings.
Back. It’s a tourist trap, and horrifically expensive, but I love the Amalfi Coast. There’s no other place quite like it, as far as I know. Amalfi, in particular, has the Piazza del Duomo below the Amalfi Cathedral, the port, and the bus terminal adjacent to the port and Centro. It’s easy to get here, and away. And it has this wonderful artisanal gelati shop in the piazza, with more choice than you can cope with. As I write, in the hotel, a cruise liner, all lit up, is sailing across my view, away from Salerno.