Day 12: Poggio Alloro

Carmignano: Our bedroom, complete with mozzie net

Carmignano: The common/dining area

Carmignano: Our balcony

We woke at Isabella's to a great view of the Tuscan countryside and a nice breakfast with our new Belgian friends and neighbours, Kim and Zef.


We decided that we really wanted a day of eating (drinking) in the countryside and set out to the not so gruelling task of finding a winery where we could legitimately spend the next seven hours. After a bit of googling and a bumbling Italian phone call to make a reservation, we set out for the family vineyard Poggio Alloro, in the Chianti region (which must be good right?) outside San Gimignano.


At one point during the drive, we came across what must have been the only traffic light within 50 miles. There was no pedestrian crossing, no intersecting roads, no ascertainable reason for the impediment, yet there it was. And then what made us burst out laughing, there was a windscreen-washing guy there! And it seems like the rulebook is universal - ignore all pleads to NOT wash our window. He starts anyway... Yeesh! You couldn't make this stuff up. We surmised he must have collaborated with some town authority to install the traffic light himself so he could wash windows. Incredible!

Traffic light guy!

After a few detours to take pictures with cows, sample sour grapes, etc, we arrived at a beautiful family run vineyard, where they also made their own cheeses, cold cured meats, olive oil, jams, honey, pasta and bread. There was no menu-- you just got what they had fresh that day.

San Gimignano in the distance

Some grapes we may or may not have sampled!

Yep, definitely should have brought the togs...

After initially being seated at a table that was quickly inundated with a French tour group, we extricated ourselves and found a quiet corner table with views over the hills. We were served a bottle of red, then a bottle of white, baskets of homemade bread, home grown and pressed olive oil, parmesan, fresh pasta with meat sauce, and a platter of cured meats and cheeses with honeys and fig jams. After eating/ drinking/ lazing for about four hours (and decanting our remaining wine into a plastic water bottle for later consumption-- college habits die hard) we headed back to Isabella's.

Matt assures me the finger was posed!

Homemade everything. So delicious.

We made it home for dusk, and watched the sun set while we researched Florence for tomorrow.

Day 11: Vesuvius to Carmignano

'The Hermitage'

We woke early to the smell of crackling sausage and the constant screams of an overindulged two year old. After a quick peek out of our balcony to the mass of Vesuvius, we packed our bags and navigated our way carefully down the narrow winding spiral staircase from our attic room. 'Mama' (she still wouldn't reveal her actual name) had laid out tea, coffee, milk, and a few plastic wrapped croissants. We admired the rest of their collection of unusual art while we ate as quickly as we could. 'Mama' kept coming in to check if we had finished, or if we needed directions to where we were going, and when were we going? Now? Soon? Geez. OK. So after smiling and nodding after she rattled off a string of more of her dubious directions, we were off.

Luckily our trusty navigatrix was more on top of the local geography than Mama was, though the Italians love to post signs for lookout points that haven't existed for approximately 50 years. Or are locked with chains in the middle of the day. One such fruitless venture led us to a road (more of an overgrown path really) that bypassed some ancient, rusty, and beautiful gates, one of which had long since fallen off its hinges. There was no sign, so I immediately jumped out of the car to explore, leaving Matt protesting loudly about broken glass (it was everywhere), proper footwear (I was in beach flip flops) and bums living there (quite likely). All good points, but I was off.


Matt followed and we found our way into the fascinating ruin of what seemed to be an extremely grand hotel from the late 1800s, overlooking the towns below from halfway up Vesuvius. It was all beautifully painted, and the architecture was gorgeous and intricately detailed. There were also piles of broken bottles in very corner, mounds of ancient (possibly original) bedding nd a few holes in the floor that went down to the floor below. Windows were smashed and shutters banging in the wind. We spent about 20 minutes inside and wisely decided against ascending the grand staircase. Later we googled and found it was the old hotel Hermitage, built by Thomas Cook two years before Vesuvius erupted in 1908 (good one, Tom).


Resolving to just go straight to the top and not follow any more signs, we found our way to a large gravel lot that seemed more promising, with little booths selling trinkets (mainly and inexplicably phallic symbols carved from volcanic rock). An aggressive guy in a sweat stained grey shirt authoritatively told us to park in that spot and to pay him two euros fifty when we came back. Yeah right. So we smiled good naturedly and parked in a different spot before we realized that we didn't have enough cash for the tickets to go up. Hmmm. Quickly solved by smiling sweetly and asking for due biglietti estudianti (the old man can still pass for a student apparently).

The climb was pretty tough, even in tennis shoes, though we saw one crazy woman attempting in heels and a skirt-- excellent volcano climbing wear. We were primarily motivated by the constant stream of older and fatter people coming down the hill.

We got to the top, where I was amused to see they were selling volcanic rocks by the hundreds. Hilarious since they looked exactly the same as the millions of rocks we had just scrambled up. I pocketed a few from the ground, and climbed to the side of the crater, where it really hits you that this is a LIVE volcano. There is still a part of the crater that constantly emits a hazy column of twisty grey smoke. Seeing how huge the crater was really put the original eruption into perspective – over half the mountain actually blew off and the resulting ash, lava, and rock was what had taken thousands of years to be cleaned out of the ill fated Pompeii and Herculaneum, where we were headed next.



We carefully climbed back down and found our car and our sweaty grey shirted amico. It was fairly obvious he didn't work there and was just an opportunist, so when he demanded his 2.50, Matt instead suggested he pay us 2.50 instead. He seemed less keen on this proposition, and we sped off as fast as our little Oopi would go.

We then went to Herculaneum to see the rest of the ruins. After finding parking behind a pizzeria, we headed in. It was really similar to Pompeii, though much smaller, and it had been buried in lava, not ash. A lot of the actual relics have been sent all over the world and annoyingly, many seem to be in London at the British Museum. Hmm. It was still amazing to walk around this unbelievably well preserved city and see their grand frescoes, water fountains and baths from thousands of years ago.

Ercolano!

A rather well-maintained chapel inside a house?

Roman shop sign

Tiled floor inside the women's baths

We took a final visit to the crypts below, where there were piles of skeletons (presumably pre-eruption). By this time it was about 3pm, and we were really hungry.


You wouldn't expect it to be tough to find a cafe in a touristy town in Italy. We didn't either. After finding a parking spot in the city center and working out the ticketing (no easy feat), we then wandered to cafe after cafe to find that they were ALL closed. We were about to give up and just et back on the autostrada to Tuscany when I saw a tiny little cafe that seemed open, though it was deserted. I found a little man inside (I mean really little, like up to Matt's waist) who told me in Italian that we could have some panini di melanzane. I was fairly certain this meant eggplant sandwich, and even more certain I would have eaten anything anyway. We agreed and he proceeded to move more slowly than I have ever seen a human move while making a sandwich. After about half an hour, we had finished our drinks and were still waiting for our sandwiches, which he kept toasting and re toasting. I thought Matt was going to lose it.


We finally got our sandwiches and sped back to the car, which mercifully was still there. We then drove the four or five hours north, past Rome, as cars disregarded all traffic laws and attempted to kill us repeatedly at very high speeds.

The rest of the trip passed mainly without incident, and we arrived at Isabella's b&b at dusk. She came to meet us and show us around, explaining that it is actually an ex monastery from the 1500s (why not). Our room was beautiful and we settled in for the night. 

Day 10: Massa Lubrense to Vesuvius

Our final day on the Sorrentina Penisola. I'm not 14 anymore so I won't laugh at that. Hahahaha.

It really isn't very far from Massa Lubrense to Pompeii, and even shorter from there to Ercolano (Herculaneum) and then Vesuvius. We had figured we could probably do them all in the one day without too much effort. As it turned out we both needed a sleep-in, and those narrow, curvy, steep and unmarked roads aren't the easiest in the world to navigate. Co-pilot Schueren is becoming quite adept at overseeing and overruling the navagatrix's directions...

Navagatrix: 'In 300 yards, at the roundabout take the first exit'

Judge Schueren: 'Nope, stupid thing, just go straight!'

theatre at Pompeii

We made it to Pompeii right around 12, having just paid 2 euros for an unnecessary 30 seconds on the autostrada, and were immediately coerced into some valet parking. Also got sucked into buying a guide book, but the guy gave a special price just for me, 5 euros. What a champ. I definitely got a deal there. We walked straight over to a surprisingly short queue and bought our entry tickets. We decided on the multi-site ticket, as we wanted to see Hercalaneum too, and it would be cheaper that way.

Anyway, we spent roughly the next 5 hours at Pompeii seeing a lot of old stuff which looks pretty

walls of houses and shops

much like it looked almost 2000 years ago. For those who don't know, the eruption of Mt Vesuvius in 79AD covered the city of Pompeii in an ash cloud which basically suffocated any living thing which wouldn't or couldn't escape. It also claimed more victims when pillagers came back to steal treasure and were poisoned by the toxic elements still remaining in the environment.

It was surreal to be walking around such a well-preserved example of a city from the time of the Romans. Every so often it just kept hitting me that these streets/houses/shops/baths were exactly where people were living and walking 2000 years ago. Incredible. We were too tight to pay for our own tour guide, but latched onto several others during the course of the day, and managed to catch a few details about various buildings and artifacts. Most of the brick and stone structures were intact, even the wooden frames in places, although most of that has since been restored or reconstructed.

wall fresco

The level of detail in these houses, particularly the upper class and politicians, but still true of every place we saw, was just remarkable. Every wall was covered with fresco decorations, the floor inlaid with mosaic tilework or sections of colored marble. Even the subterranean sections which likely would never have even been seen, were still finished to an equally impressive standard.

food market

In one house, you can even see the original beware of dog sign -- 'cave canum' inlaid in mosaic with the picture of a snarling beast. Unbelievable. Also a brothel with the original paintings outside each room depicting (graphically) the girls' specialties, and the stone beds.

Cave Canem

One of the less graphic brothel advertisements

House nameplate for CORNELIUM, a politician living in Pompeii 2000 years ago

As per usual, we took many pictures of lots of things (few more posted at the end), and ultimately ran out of time to visit the other sites. Our new host to be - Valentina - was living a short drive from Vesuvius anyway so we decided to check that out the next morning instead before our long drive up to Florence. If we had time we would see Ercolano too. We retrieved our car from the parking bay just before they locked the gates, and plugged in the gps coordinates of Valentina's place.

A short while later we arrived, somewhat hungry, at what the navigatrix proudly announced to be 'our destination'. Auds put through a quick call in Italian to let them know we thought we were outside. At least we think she said that. Apparently Valentina was unavailable, but it was answered by her mum. She confirmed she could see us outside, so we unloaded the bags and stuff from the car and she buzzed us through the gate. Stepping inside, she introduced herself as 'mama di Valentina', we each gave our names, and then Valentina popped out with small child in tow. The introductions repeated once more before we squeezed up four flights of stairs to the attic room. Complete with ensuite bathroom and small balcony with a direct view of Vesuvius, it looked like heaven to us. Ventilation seemed like a bit of an issue so we left the balcony door open and wedged open the bathroom window before setting out in search of food. 

We quickly worked out that Valentina and her mum might not really have any conversational English, as her mum gave us some garbled italian directions to a local pizza shop. No criticism of her or her mum, we were in their country, so any English spoken is seen as a bonus for us. In any case, Valentina's mother, or 'mum' as we've started calling her gave us directions to a local pizza shop which was recommended. Things were off to a good start when she pointed right but told us to go left. Then she thought better of it and told us a completely different way, starting in the other direction. Don't worry, it's only 300m away she assured us, can't miss it.

We nodded intently through the rest of mum's instructions and set off with stomachs rumbling. Needless to say, the instructions didn't go so well. Here's the highlights of our expedition:
- After 25 minutes we finally find the place, and it's not even serving food for another 45 minutes.
- We see some likely establishments just a little further down the road, but get there to find out they all are only serving drinks too.
- Asking around we hear of another good place ten minutes walk away.
-We run into Val and mum, who point us a third way and tell us to be home in a hour. (what?)

- We get lost again (ie, bad directions obviously) but find that place 25 minutes later

- We asked a total of seven people for directions during the course of our 90 minute trek.

- The pizza we eventually had was AMAZING. And they gave us a discount and free drinks for no known reason except possibly that we were out-of-towners. Pizzeria da Vito. Go there. It's the best reason to go to San Sebastiano.

By the time we got home again only half of each pizza was left but we plonked ourselves at the dining table to eat the remainders like civilized folk. Then we saw the artwork overlooking our meal. We think it was our host, her mum, and the child, but who knows. We hope not. But it was done by a family friend..... Usually the only breasts I expect to see at my meal belong to a chicken. Like the rock on luigi's couch we figured it was better to just not ask.

Good night all, we are off to the outskirts of Florence tomorrow. Long drive ahead. More pics below.

2000 year old preserved and plastered body of man as he was when the ash covered Pompeii

Table base belonging to wealthy family

Bodies found near the city gates

Vesuvius (now 1/3 as tall as it was pre eruption) overlooking Pompeii main square

Original carved fountain water basins have been modernised for tourists like this girl to fill bottles

Day 9: Capri

We woke excited for our day trip. We could see through our roof that the weather was perfect, so dressed in our bathing suits, shorts, SPF, and packed the day pack with fruit, camera, towels and books. Luigi was nowhere to be seen, so we slipped out and down the road to the abandoned medieval convent on the hill that was our pick up location. Or driver Gaitano was right on time, and we jumped in his car to the harbour, picking up a friendly Belgian couple along the way called Meesh and Bande. We stared longingly at their hotel, as they loaded in their bags. They politely asked where we were staying, and Matt replied 'in an old man's spare room.' Priceless.

We got to the sun drenched harbor and into an eight seater boat where we met our captain, Nando. Ferdinando. His dad owned the boat company and this was his summer job, taking tourists for day tours of Capri. Um, yes please.


We got out on the choppy sea and went along the cliffs and under a small waterfall that emptied into the clear blue water. We then settled in for the half hour trip across the bay. Once there, Nando pointed out the site atop Capri where Roman emperor Tiberius had his palaces, and I have to hand it to the man, he had a good eye for real estate. The grey cliffs started in jagged points that plunged straight down into turquoise water with coral clinging to the edges near the surface.

Our little boat went all the way around the island, dipping into the famous Green and White grottos, essentially small caves in the cliff sides. We stopped for a swim and a snack - courtesy of Nando's mum, some homemade fingerfood, meats, cheese, olives and fresh fruit, and a delicious limoncello.

The water was crystal clear and the perfect temperature. Matt strapped on some of the supplied scuba goggles and dove down to peer at the local wildlife. I splashed around for a few minutes too, and then took the opportunity to soak in some of the ample vitamin D. Eventually it was time to move on, and we quickly dried off as Nando brought us around to Marina Piccola. We clambered off the boat -- I think Matt was grateful for some solid land-- and spent three hours on the beautiful island of Capri. I gladly would have spent weeks. It was an odd combination of high-end retail boutiques, low-end souvenir stores, ancient buildings and tacky fast food stalls.

The bus ride from the marina up to the town of Capri was an adventure in itself. Buses literally scraped each other as they ascended the numerous hairpin turns and narrow cliff side-passes. We could hear and feel the jolts and scrapes as we passed, and noticed the years worth of battle scars along the side when we got off at the top. We decided we would somehow walk the journey back.

We picked our way through the crowds, photographing various sights that we figured must be famous and would google when we got home. We found a pasticceria (the restaurants are eye-wateringly expensive) and bought a quiche, salad and cannolo for dessert. After a roughly standard number of wrong turns we found our way to the Giardini Di Agosto - beautifully designed gardens at the top of the cliff that overlooked the sea, and the giant rocks rising out of it. Next to one of the fountains was a beautiful marble bench seat where we unpacked and enjoyed our little picnic, until the smokers came. Time to move on.

Several snaps and selfies later we had worked our way through the gardens to the via Krupp, a winding path which works its way down from the gardens almost to the waters edge. We each claimed for ourselves several of the properties embedded in the hill side, incredible views from the rooftop decks. We continued wandering until we reached the marina piccola. Nando was to pick us up in about 20 minutes, so we had a quick paddle about in the bay and then Matt bought a postcard to send his mum for her birthday (Happy Birthday, Loretta!). --quick picture break--

The Augusto Gardens

View from the clifftop inside the Augusto Gardens

Looking down upon the winding Via Krupp

We chated to our boat friends in the marina while we we waited for Nando to pull up so we could climb aboard once more. We took a few more snaps as we putted away, and then Matt and I both fished out our books and settled in on the front of the boat. The boats and superyachts anchored around this place were incredible. There was one which had unfurled an inflatable VIP-style pool deck and enclosure into the water behind it. Private ocean section ??

We were expertly guided around the island to the outside of the blue grotto and then we made course for Massa Lubrense.

Tired after our busy day of lazing on the boat, we elected for a dinner close to home and ventured to the nearby restaurant 'One Fire'. The eponymous restaurant was started by the patriarch (don't ask where the nickname came from), and his wife, daughters and son-in-law all share kitchen and serving duties. We had stopped by earlier to check the menu, and the place was empty. After getting cleaned up and changed, we returned only to be asked if we had a reservation. Um no, but we didn't really see why they cared. Anyway, we found a table on the deck and perused the menu.

I ordered a white wine, and Matt stuck with water. Along with some delicious appetizers (on the house) they promptly brought me a bottle of the house white. My rudimentary Italian was good enough to request 'una bicchiera' instead of the bottle. They returned  with the biggest glass of wine I've ever seen, we were sure they'd just poured in the whole bottle! Very generous, Signor One Fire.

In due course our plates arrived, which were quite good, if a little on the small side. We hadn't noticed people arriving but by the end of our meal every table was occupied. I guess reservations may have been warranted. Matt helped me finish off the last of the wine and we settled up before heading home. We snuck in while Luigi was still out watching a soccer game, and managed to exploit an open wifi network to catch up on a few emails before killing the lights and more than a few persistent 'skeeters.

Going back in time tomorrow as we check out the ruins of Pompeii, Herculaneum and also trek up Mt Vesuvius.

Day 8: Salerno to Massa Lubrense

We woke at 7am to a ridiculous Skype fight, helpfully in English, between our Italian neighbor and his long-distance American girlfriend. Now, in my experience, Skype NEVER works properly, always cutting in and out, dropping signal, grey whirly circle of death, etc. Not so in this case.

It was way too loud to even pretend to ignore, so we naturally took sides and followed the story. American Amanda was coming through loud and clear from NYC, and I have to say I agree that Gianluca was being a bit needy and unreasonable to be upset that she was having a drink with her friends. Anyway. After about ten minutes we got bored and popped out for breakfast and showers.

Matt went out first with a cheerful 'Buon natale!' and sat down for breakfast. Mimma and Nunzio, semi- distant before, looked at him like he was crazy and left the room. Now this may be because Buon Natale actually means Merry Christmas and not good morning. Hard to say.

veering to avoid semi, as I helpfully snap pics

After a small breakfast and quick chat with the other guests (a couple from Milan), we quickly left to find our car and begin the drive along the Amalfi Coast. Harrowing doesn't begin to describe it, as drivers race at 60 or 70 in both directions along what is essentially only half of one lane that hairpins its way along mile high cliffs. In some places, parts of the road were cordoned off because of landslides.


Despite this, the jaw dropping views were some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. It was like driving through a postcard, and I was torn between 'helping' Matt drive (mainly by gasping loudly and yelling un-useful things like 'watch out!') and twisting in my seat to try to see everything and take blurry photos. The water was a clear aqua blue, and the towns are all pale pastels and nestled into the valleys along ridiculously steep and high cliffs. I lost count of how many times we nearly went over the rails (not Matt's fault-- he was arguably the best driver on the road) and decided to enjoy what could be our last hours.

We stopped in Amalfi, which was insanely busy, and wandered through the cathedral and up the stairs into the labyrinth of elevated residential passageways. We came upon a private art show in a garden, and wandered through before grabbing a panino, avoiding buying some of the stunningly expensive ceramics, and heading back to the car.


Positano, an absurdly steep and gorgeous town, was our next stop along the Amalfi Coast, and we found a small restaurant with a balcony that overlooked the entire village and the sea. Prosecco (for me) and creamy pasta are the best cures for stress, and we were feeling great by the time we got to our destination Massa Lubrense.


(I so wish I had taken pictures of what happened next, but you'll have to be content with more amalfi pics at the bottom of the post instead...)


We messaged our host Luigi and bought prosciutto crudo, mozzarella, arugula and tomatoes from the market for dinner while we waited for him. And waited....some more. And called. Three hours. No reply. Meanwhile our parking time kept running out every half hour, so we kept having to move the car to different lots and feed different machines. 

We found the tourist office and the helpful girl inside, Daniela, was all confidence until we told her that the name of our B&B (not actually a B&B, more some guy's house) was called 'The Paradise of Sun and Relax'. Which it is. AirBNB can be great but also a bit sketch.

We finally found another number for Mysterious Luigi and Daniela called, only to be put on hold for five minutes while he talked to someone else. Possibly his dog.

Daniela lost patience and put me on with him.I politely said that we must have missed each other and he yelled something about how we should get a good phone. Mmm. OK. I pointed out that it really didn't matter now, but we would love to just forget about it and move on please, and after some more pointers on Italian phones, he finally agreed to come get us on his motorbike.

While we waited, we booked our boat tickets for Capri the next day, something I've always wanted to do.The ferry was already booked out (Matt and I don't plan ahead very well), but there was the option to pay a bit more and take a small 8-seater speed boat for the day, which we thought sounded pretty good.


Matt went to get the car and I stood on the street hopefully with my backpack, scanning the small road for a crazy person on a motorcycle. I saw plenty, but none seemed to be him.

Finally an older grey bearded man with an empty fruit crate improbably strapped to the back of his motorcycle turned up, said 'IT IS ME' and motioned for me to follow... presumably on foot?... as he zoomed away. I shouted that Matt was getting the car and he seemed to understand, because he idled in the middle of the road for a while. Thankfully Matt pulled up soon after, I jumped in, and we were off through the hills, following a complete madman on a bike with a fruit crate. Standard.


We came to a scenic lookout and Luigi (it was him) stopped and pointed out the house where the King of Naples (Napoleon's brother-in-law!) planned the siege against the English in the fight to recapture Capri. Good enough reason to snap a picture or two. More importantly we could see across the water to Capri, Ischia, and even Naples and Mount Vesuvius.

We then were pointed up some steep stone steps and advised to climb up and knock on a big 1700s looking wooden door at the top, as Luigi zoomed away. We had little choice, so followed directions and he magically appeared on the other side of the door a few minutes later with a giant brown mutt called Yoghi.The fruit crate mystery was 'solved' when he explained that it was Yoghi's motorcycle seat. Though I seriously doubt that dog could have fit even half itself in there. But I'm a believer in choosing battles, and happily let that one pass.


I tried a few times to talk to him, and he opened up a bit, but had the habit of breaking off mid-sentence to instead chat to Yoghi in rapid fire Italian. And hold his paws and dance with him. And sing. Meanwhile Matt and I are standing awkwardly beside him with our giant backpacks on, laughing nervously and miming to see if the other wanted to just run for it while he was distracted.


He then led the way up to a small dark house and curiosity won us over. Stale cigar smoke visibly poured out as he opened the arched door with a huge iron key that looked like it was straight out a scene from King Arthur. Inside were two sofas, one with a throw decorated with a panther motif, the other with a big grey rock nestled in the middle of it. Yes, a rock. Our room was huge if very sparse and somewhat moldy, and we shared a small musty bathroom with Luigi, who we decided was most likely harmless. Though we locked the bedroom door to be on the safe side.


He was going out to meet a friend, so we made our salads, ate outside, and settled in on beds that felt like they were bare springs. A rhythmic and constant dripping from somewhere in the corner lulled us to sleep.

Roof garden art show